Free Breaker's Reef by Terri Blackstock

stolen around campus with a bitter, distant look on his face. He’d been described as a man “tormented by his own misunderstood genius.”
    Then one day he decided to do what his colleagues disdained, and “sold out” by writing a crime novel. But notjust any crime novel. This was from the point of view of the killer, a dark, macabre look at the inner workings of a murderer. He sold it to a new publisher, who heavily promoted it with a major ad campaign months before its release and booked him for a twenty-city tour. The novel debuted at number one on the
New York Times
list. He subsequently signed a multibook contract for millions and quit his job, ignoring the turned-up noses of his fellow academicians, who accused him of writing drivel for the masses.
    Since that time, he’d been a virtual loner, by all accounts. He’d never married, and reports said that he did meticulous research on every book, even to the point of living as a homeless person on the streets of Atlanta’s inner city for months at a time.
    Cade found a death certificate for Gibson’s father, who had died two months after Gibson’s birth. His mother, who’d also worked as an English professor, raised him alone. He had very little contact with her now.
    “Excuse me, Chief?”
    Cade looked up to see Scott Crown leaning in his doorway. “Yeah, Crown. What is it?”
    He came in. “Here’s the paperwork you asked for. I’m knocking off now. I switched shifts with Bruce.”
    “Okay, see you tomorrow night.”
    Scott glanced down at the books all over Cade’s desk. “You a Gibson fan?”
    Cade shook his head. “No, not really. You?”
    “Yeah, I’ve read almost everything he’s written.”
    Cade turned from his computer and looked up at the young man. “Did you notice that the victim in
Crescent Hill
was killed and disposed of exactly the same way that Emily Lawrence was?”
    Crown picked up that book and paged through it. “Now that you mention it …”
    Maybe this was a chance for the kid to redeem himself. “I want you to do me a favor, Crown. Can you spare another hour or so?”
    “Sure. I have a date tonight, but I have some time left.”
    Cade didn’t tell him he knew who his date was with. “Since you’ve read all these, could you give me a rundown on the plots,paying careful attention to the way the murders are committed, who is killed, the motive, that sort of thing?”
    “Sure. I’ll just need to refresh my memory on some of them, but it shouldn’t be too hard. Is this part of the homicide investigation?”
    “Could be.”
    Crown’s eyes widened. “Then you think Marcus Gibson may be our killer?”
    Cade didn’t want to go that far. “I didn’t say that. Maybe it’s a copycat. Just in case, though, we’re putting him under surveillance. He has some odd habits. The night of the murder we know he spent the night in the woods.”
    “Can’t they bring him in, before he kills anybody else?”
    “Nope.” Cade rubbed his eyes. “Until we gather enough evidence for probable cause, we’ll just be watching him to make sure he stays out of trouble.”
    Scott stacked all the books from Cade’s desk. “I’ll get right to work on this, Chief. I’ll have it to you before I leave.”
    Before Scott left his office, Alex Johnson leaned in. “Cade, you got a minute?”
    “Sure, whatcha got?”
    “The state just faxed this over. It’s the initial ballistics report on Emily Lawrence.”
    Cade took the report and read about the bullet lodged in Emily’s chest. It was from a .40 caliber Glock—the same weapon he carried.
    Crown stood there, holding the books and watching Cade read. Ignoring him, Cade turned to his computer, pulled up his database on registered weaponry, and typed in Gibson’s name. One entry came up.
    He sat back hard in his chair. “Marcus Gibson owns a .40 caliber Glock.”
    Crown balanced the books under his arm. “That the probable cause you need?”
    “Not yet. But if I could get that gun, then