Whisper in the Night: An absolutely heart-stopping serial killer thriller

by D. K. Hood

  Jenna straightened and looked at him with interest. “How so?”

  “It’s usual in an IED to use a tripwire or a cellphone to initiate a small explosion and this in turn triggers a second more devastating explosion.” He met her gaze. “There were two massive explosions and from the extent of the damage, it was overkill.”

  Jenna shuddered at the memory of the explosion hurling her into the air before crashing to the ground. “What are the options?”

  “C4, dynamite, or the easy-to-obtain fertilizer type, aka the Oklahoma Bomber.” Kane shrugged. “All of the above cause a ton load of devastation.” He cleared his throat. “C4 and dynamite could be stolen from a mine. ANFO – it’s an industrial explosive and is likely available locally as well.”

  Jenna finished her coffee and placed the cup on the bedside table. “Didn’t Packer work for the mines at one time?”

  “Nope, that was Anderson.” Kane pushed to his feet. “Packer was in the army, and we know he has knowledge of explosives, but he denied it, if you remember?”

  “Yeah, I recall.” Jenna eased to the edge of the bed. “Both these men could’ve tried to kill us but I’m not sure about their connection to either of the girls. They completed their jobs and left, unlike Kittredge, who acts like a sleaze, and Lancaster, who admits to Rowley he had them ‘hanging around him like butterflies’.” She snorted. “Did you catch the stink coming from him? He sure ain’t no flower.” She dragged her hands through her hair. “They should be our prime suspects but the other two sure need a second look and I’m not discounting Miller either.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late.”

  “Okay. I’ll go start breakfast.” Kane looked down at her. “Got everything you need?”

  Jenna smiled at him. “Yes, you keep my favorite toiletries in the bathroom. I’ll be good to go in ten.”

  * * *

  As Jenna placed her plates in the dishwasher, the message signal sounded on her cellphone and she slid it out her pocket. Her stomach cramped at the caller ID. Private number. Oh no, not another video from the Shadow Man. She turned to Kane. “It’s a message from a private number.” She opened the message and found no text, just a video file.

  “Let’s hope he wants to deal this time.” Kane moved to her side and peered at the screen. “Open it.”

  With trembling fingers, Jenna opened the file and stared in horror at the image of Amanda captured by an infrared camera. She was frantically trying to escape from a room and screaming in terror. From the way she clawed at the walls, tripped and fell countless times, it was obvious the girl was in complete darkness. Her tear-stained cheeks and frantic pleas churned Jenna’s stomach. Then came the disjointed whispers from a voice so evil, her hand shook so hard Kane had to take the cellphone from her. She wanted to cover her ears and look away but bit down hard on her lip and listened in horror as the Shadow Man taunted Amanda. He told her the chilling history of the house to terrify her and by the time he’d finished, Amanda was hugging her knees in the corner and rocking back and forth.

  When the clip ended, she stared at the screen, her mind in denial and heart racing. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to see Kane’s face, which was ashen. “She’s already dead, isn’t she?”

  Kane didn’t reply but walked away, then replayed the attachment over and over again. She went to him and touched his arm. “What is it?”

  “I remember Rowley telling me the same story.” He looked at her. His face had turned to expressionless stone. “So do you. I know where she is. It’s the Old Mitcham Ranch.”

  “Then let’s go.” Jenna headed for the family room and grabbed her vest and jacket from a peg by the door.

  “Wait! The clues are way too obvious.” Kane followed her. “I figure he’s luring us into a trap.”

  “We don’t have any choice, Dave. There’s a chance Amanda might be alive.” Jenna grabbed her cellphone from his hand. “I’ll call it in, you drive.”

  “I’ll leave Duke.” Kane pulled extra ammo clips from a locked drawer in a cabinet and slid them toward her. “He’s safer here.”

  Jenna called Maggie, then contacted Wolfe and brought him up to date. She pulled on her Kevlar vest and shrugged into her coat. As they ran for Kane’s truck, she turned to him. “Wolfe is on the way with Webber and they’ll be loaded for bear.”

  “Wolfe is hands-on with explosives as well. He’ll watch our backs.” Kane backed out the garage and accelerated toward the gate.

  The large metal gates they’d installed for extra security after the melt slid open as they approached. The beast’s back tires dug into the road as Kane turned left and, engine roaring like a mad bull, headed to the Old Mitcham Ranch.

  Jenna dug her fingers into the leather seat as the green landscape flashed by in a blur. The SUV accelerated to frightening speeds, bumping over or swerving to miss the potholes on the uneven road, pitted by last winter’s snowfall, but Kane drove the vehicle with confidence. It was as if the beast was an extension of himself. He reacted to obstacles in his path with the kind of instinct and split-second timing she could only dream about having. “Where do you figure he has her?”

  “It looked like one of the rooms in the house to me.” Kane negotiated a hairpin bend then slammed his foot back on the gas, throwing Jenna back in her seat. “I sure as hell don’t want to go back into the root cellar – the image of the last time is tattooed on my brain.”

  The memory of the butchered young woman they’d found in that same cellar some time ago crashed into her head like a bad dream. She’d never forgotten the expression in the young woman’s eyes, even after being prepared for the horror waiting inside. It had been her first experience of the Old Mitcham Ranch’s curse. Earlier, Kane had ventured down the steps alone, deep into the pitch-black cellar, to discover a horrific scene. The impact of finding a mutilated murder victim who resembled his sister must have been hard on him. He’d said nothing at the time but the expression on his face now spoke volumes. Jenna squeezed his arm. “Me either, but we might not have a choice.”

  As they flew up the narrow road, Jenna considered the best way to approach the situation. She preferred to lead an investigation, but she had a tactical expert sitting beside her and right now, she needed his expertise. “How do you figure we should play this?”

  “We’ll drive past the gate and park up a ways, and then enter from round back. He’ll be expecting us to drive right in.” Kane flicked her a glance. “Tell Wolfe to come in quiet and do the same. I don’t want them advertising we’re on scene. We’ll use our com packs to communicate; we’ll need to use stealth, and no running into danger. We’re no help to Amanda if we’re dead.”

  Jenna nodded. “Roger that.” She called Wolfe again and relayed the message.

  “Another thing.” Kane had slowed the vehicle to a normal speed and cruised past the Old Mitcham Ranch, hardly making a sound. “This killer has set a tripwire before, so if he is playing a game, he’ll change it up a bit this time. IEDs can be anywhere. In war zones, they often place them in drink cans, so if a soldier kicks it out of the way it blows up. Then there are pipe bombs – remember explosive devices can be concealed in just about anything, so look for something that doesn’t fit in.” Kane pulled to a stop in a clump of trees about a hundred yards from the house. “And look out for tripwires and booby traps. Look all around up and down – this guy could be capable of anything.”

  Thirty-Six

  As Kane slid from his truck and pulled out the sniper rifle from the back seat, he stared through the trees, surveying the area. The Old Mitcham Ranch loomed in the distance. Opposite a craggy hill that nature had pushed from the earth in a prehistoric earthquake, and flanked by decaying outbuildings, it resembled the set of a horror movie. The dilapidated house leaned to one side with grass growing in the gutters and peeling paint. It was anything but charming. Its tales of murder and suicide had once made it a creepy hangout for teenagers on Halloween, but not a soul had set one foot inside since the murder of a young w
oman a couple of years ago.

  The string of gruesome murders had been his first case after arriving in town and it wasn’t one he’d forget in a hurry. Settling into a new profession in a sleepy backwoods town had seemed ideal, but he’d soon realized Black Rock Falls held secrets deeper than the Grand Canyon. He had to admit that becoming a deputy after being first a sniper in the marines and then a special agent assigned to serve and protect POTUS had been more than a simple life adjustment. The moment he’d laid eyes on Jenna, he’d been compelled to make a complete turnaround.

  She’d proved to be a sheriff with guts. Confronted with a fit, beautiful woman who he’d assumed was about twenty-five had brought out the protective side of him – and was the last thing Jenna wanted. She disliked him being overprotective, as if being prepared to take a bullet for her was a bad thing. Just as well he’d realized from the get-go that he could protect her just fine as long as she didn’t catch him doing it.

  Now he found himself in a dilemma. A crazy was on the loose and, not content to kidnap and strangle teenage girls, he also wanted to play a cat and mouse game with Jenna. His gut told him the Shadow Man had Jenna in his sights and whether she liked it or not, it was his job to protect her. He sighed. I’ll deal with the consequences later.

  He scanned the immediate area, looking for a suitable way to the back of the house, and motioned her forward. “See the animal trail weaving through the trees? We’ll need to keep well away from it. He’d expect us to come in that way if we approached from the back, so we should use the perimeter trees instead. The shadows will be cover for us.” He pulled off her buff-colored Stetson and chucked it into his truck. “He’ll see you coming a mile away in a light-colored hat like that.”

  “Sure, I get it, keep to the shadows, look for traps… now check your earpiece.” Jenna pressed the button on her mic. “Can you hear me?”

  Kane nodded. “Loud and clear.” He slipped his weapon from the holster. “Take it slow.”

  “Roger that. This place gives me the creeps, so stay close.” Jenna moved off ahead of him.

  Underfoot, last fall’s leaves crunched and twigs cracked with each step. The aroma of leaf mold hung heavy in the air as Kane’s boots sank into the muddy soil. He surveyed the area, searching ahead, above and below for any signs of a trap. The edge of the small wooded area was still damp from the winter melt and a bitter wind rustled through the pines. Ahead Jenna moved like a cat, weaving through the trees, stopping to check ahead then slinking forward again, hardly more than a shadow. When they reached the edge of the woods and the back wall of the old ranch house came into view, she stopped and glanced back at him. He held up a hand for her to wait and hustled to her side. “It hasn’t changed since we came by last time.”

  “If we find any footprints in the dust, it’s likely they’re Rowley’s and Webber’s.” Jenna turned to him. “This place was on Rowley’s list when we searched for Lindy. He found nothing inside the house and he cleared the root cellar in the barn as well. We should be good to go.”

  “Wait.” Kane touched her arm. “The killer’s been here since Rowley’s visit; I recognized the room from the video clip and the story he told Amanda. He wanted us to come here. It’s all part of his plan.”

  “Then we change the play.” Jenna slipped her weapon back into the holster. “I can’t make out any disturbance in the long grass or bushes on this side of the house, which makes me think he hasn’t set a trap on this side.” She held up a hand to silence him before he had the chance to speak. “Yeah, I’m aware he could shoot me through one of the windows but then he’d be trapped in the house with you to deal with, wouldn’t he? Any local would think twice before trying to take you on alone.”

  Kane shrugged. “If he’s a local, maybe, but I figure he’s been killing for some time. He’s reached the limit of his thrill factor and needs more, so he’s playing a game with us. It ups the ante.”

  “I say we belly-crawl over to the house and take a closer look.” Jenna glanced up at him. “Unless you have a better idea?”

  Kane shook his head. “Giving him the high ground if he’s inside the house isn’t a tactic I’d use.”

  “I figure you’re overthinking this, Kane.” Jenna’s eyes flashed. “Amanda could be inside and we’re playing tactics. I say we do the unexpected and walk straight up to the front of the house and take a look.”

  “No way.” He shook his head. “If I wanted to kill someone, I’d set a pressure plate near the entrance or set up a shotgun to blow a hole in anyone who opens the door.”

  “Yeah, but he’s not you, and he doesn’t have your training.” Jenna lifted her chin. “One thing’s for sure, we can’t just stand here all damn day.”

  “We don’t know what he’s capable of doing.” Kane took a firm hold of her arm. “Jenna, listen to me. After advertising where he’s keeping Amanda, I doubt he’s hanging around for us to arrest him. I figure he’s already moved her someplace – but he could be close by, watching.” He holstered his weapon, then took a pair of binoculars from a pocket and leaned against a tree. “As I recall, the kitchen is at the back and there’s a hallway leading to a family room with bedrooms off the side. I’d say one of the bedrooms has had its windows painted out to create a holding place for Amanda.” He peered through the lenses and did a slow recon of the entire area. “It’s dark inside. In fact, I can’t see a darn thing.” He pushed the binoculars back into his pocket. “There should be some light from the windows. I didn’t see any tripwires or anything suspicious, unless he’s set a pressure plate somewhere.”

  “You saying we could be blown up walking in the house, or do you figure he’s rigged the entire house as a bomb?” Jenna’s face paled.

  Kane moved in front of her. “If there’s an IED planted anywhere on the property, we have to assume it was laid in the last twenty-four hours, so the signs should be fresh. We know Rowley checked out the place and he didn’t trip anything. I’ll go first. Follow in my footsteps and don’t step anywhere else, okay?”

  “Yeah, got it.” Jenna holstered her weapon. “You look for booby traps and I’ll watch the windows for any movement.”

  Kane had mapped out a path. Going through the long undisturbed grass would be the safest; it wasn’t likely anyone would risk throwing an explosive device from any of the windows. He moved swiftly, checking ahead before continuing to the side of the house. He could hear Jenna breathing close behind as she slipped into the space behind him against the gray wooden wall. He glanced over one shoulder at her. “Okay, so far so good.”

  He took latex gloves from his pocket and pulled them on, then edged his way to the back steps that he knew led to a mudroom with a pantry. He crouched to examine the steps, bending low to look under them and all around. Only dusty cobwebs waved in the breeze, and a few dead moths. “Keep right away from the door. He could have rigged a shotgun to fire when we touch the doorknob.”

  “Roger that.” Jenna moved some distance away, keeping her back to the house and looking in all directions.

  With memories of similar disastrous situations during his tour of Afghanistan lingering like a warning in the recesses of his mind, Kane pressed his back to the wall then, heart pounding, took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob. The old wooden door stuck tight, the frame warped from years of neglect. Dammit. He turned the rusty knob again and pulled hard. With a creak of wood and rusty metal, the door inched open. A rush of stale air leaked out and he heard a rustling from inside. He turkey-peeked around the door, relieved to find that no gun sat cocked and ready to blow him away. It was pitch black inside and the rustling came again, making his gut clench. He used his boot to push the door open, then turned to Jenna and whispered into his mic. “I hear something inside, it could be rats. It’s too dark to make out. Can you see the window from your position?”

  “It looks like it’s been painted over.” Jenna retraced her steps back to his side. “Why would anyone do that?”

  Kane shrugged and kept his vo
ice just above a whisper too. “So no one would know someone was living here or holding a girl against her will.” He indicated toward the mudroom. “Let’s take a look inside.” He pulled out his weapon and then taking a flashlight from his belt held it against his Glock. He aimed the beam inside then climbed the old wooden steps. The light picked out details of the kitchen. The floor was, surprisingly, free of the thick coating of dust that he’d encountered there a couple of years earlier. An overturned garbage bin had spilled its contents over the floor. Red eyes peered back at him and a large rat scampered away into the darkness. “Someone’s been staying here. The kitchen is clear apart from the rats.” He moved the light around the room then eased down the hallway.

  “Two bedrooms and the family room is at the end of the hall.” Jenna slipped in behind him. “We’ll be sitting ducks if he’s in there.”

  Kane touched his ear. “The floorboards creak. If he moves, we’ll hear him – but the rats are moving around, so it’s unlikely that he’s in here. They took off as soon as they saw me.”

  The first door hung open at a strange angle. One of the top hinges had rusted through. Kane shone his flashlight inside but only dust greeted him. “Clear.” He moved to the next door. A new padlock hung open on an improvised lock. He glanced at Jenna. “Stay here. That’s the room he used, so if he’s planted a device it will likely be in there.”

  He could only just make out Jenna’s nod of consent in the dim light. Under his boots, the floorboards groaned with each step as he moved past the closed door to check the family room. An old sofa sat before the fireplace and someone had used the grate recently. “Clear.”