Gabriel’s POV

The newspaper was strewn out on the table before me as I sipped my morning coffee. My glasses sat at the base of my nose. Nothing very exciting. Seemed to be a dry season within stories. Perhaps that was a good thing to some people, but in the world of investigative journaling, it meant missing out on a good paycheck.

My phone was always on the table next to me, face up, just in case one of my contacts sent me a tip. My wife, Lucy, and ...