Stacy's Destiny (The Town of Pearl 2)

* * * *

Wyatt and Max met Deputy Kenny Jones at the Sheriff’s department. They followed the deputy into the Sheriff’s office where they saw the display of various items spread on a meeting table.

“What’s this?” Sheriff Wyatt asked.

“Well, sir, it was left outside the back entrance to the department. It was addressed to the staff, so Sally opened it. Just take a look,” the deputy stated as he motioned with his hands to the contents in the box.

Wyatt and Max both looked inside.

“The envelope on top was addressed to you, Max. Sally opened it then quickly put the pictures back. As far as the other contents, they weren’t touched by anyone. Not sure if we can get any prints off of them.

Max looked at the envelope and then the contents inside the box. At first he just glanced at the thong panties and the other items until he noticed the initials on the compact mirror. It said S.P. His heart began to pound in his chest.

Wyatt picked up the envelope. “Oh fuck!” he exclaimed then ran a hand over his jaw.

“What? What’s in there?” Max asked, raising his voice. He knew this had to do with Stacy, and he feared for her life immediately.

“Did Sally see these?” he asked Kenny, and Kenny nodded. Then Wyatt swore.

He passed the envelope to Max then thanked Kenny before asking him to leave the room.

Max picked up the envelope and took out the contents. He was shocked at what he saw. There were numerous pictures of Stacy. Some from New York, some at parties, and some here in Texas on Marie’s farm. There were also pictures of her in just a towel and what appeared to be her living room.

“This fucker knows where she is. He’s been spying on her. He got into her house, Wyatt, and has pictures like this?” Max exclaimed then went through the other pictures until he saw the handwritten note.

She’s all mine. Keep your hands off her, Deputy Cantrell, or you and your brother die!

I can get to her at any time. I can touch her, fuck her, and even kill her if I choose. Stay away!

Max banged his fist on the desk.

“I want this fucking asshole. I want to fucking ring his scrawny neck and watch him take his last dying breath,” Max exclaimed, and Wyatt crossed his arms in front of his chest and just exhaled.

“I understand your upset and anger here, Max. This can’t be easy to handle. We won’t be able to get any fingerprints off of this box or the letter, but we’ll try anyway. He’s too smart to screw up, but at least now he threatened you and Eric. That’s a federal offense in itself.”

“If we can prove it was him. Shit, Wyatt, when Stacy finds out about this, she’s going to panic. How the hell are we going to keep her away from the cottage and under protection at all times? I don’t like the fact that this guy has an advantage of watching us and knowing what we’re up to. Where is he hiding? How come no one has seen him?”

“We haven’t posted his picture or anything. Maybe that might be a good idea. We can have Sally make copies of his photo and give it to all the store owners and residents. We don’t want to post it and let him know what we’re up to, but it may help us catch him.”

“We should also call the investigators from New York. He needs to be aware of this, too.”

They were silent a moment as he looked over the other contents in the box. He didn’t touch the panties, but the thought that this creep did made Max sick to his stomach. This guy wanted Stacy badly. He was a sick individual.

“Why don’t you head back home. I think being with Stacy and knowing that she’s safe will ease some of that anger building inside of you,” Wyatt suggested.

“I don’t know if I can go home feeling like this. I feel like hitting something or tearing something up,” he exclaimed then ran a hand through his hair.

“Go home and be with her. Having Stacy lying in bed protected between you and Eric, holding her in your arms will ease that anger,” Wyatt stated then walked over to his desk and picked up the phone.

“Thanks, Wyatt. I’ll see ya in the morning.”

“You betcha.”

* * * *

Eric looked at Stacy. His woman stood before him looking like a goddess. Her auburn-colored locks glistened with red highlights as the soft glow of the light surrounded her. She wore just a set of matching black panties and bra. The silky material was soft against his hands as he cupped a breast, squeezed, then trailed his finger along her curves. Stacy’s skin was perfect. Slightly tan and smooth with no blemishes, just a dusting of tiny freckles here and there. He squatted down then leaned forward to take a small taste of one particular set of tiny freckles along her abdomen.

“I love these. I want to lick and touch every single one on your body,” he whispered, and he saw the goose bumps cover her flesh. His warm breath must have caused them. He whispered again after licking and nibbling until he got to her tattoo.