by Jon Mills
“No. I see you with a bullet in your head.”
“Ah now that’s the Ben I knew.”
“Why are you calling?”
“Curiosity. Boredom, maybe I just like hearing the sound of your voice.”
“Night, asshole.”
“Hold on, Ben, let’s not be hasty. I’m sure you want to see Chloe again?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh I think you know.”
Ben grit his teeth. “I’m done with you.”
“Did you know, Ben, that I could have taken Chloe that night but I didn’t? I spared her. Do you know why?”
Ben remained silent. His mind in turmoil.
“Because I knew if I took her, it would destroy you and I can’t have that. No, you still have answers for me. You and I are a team, we’re alike.”
“I’m nothing like you.”
He chuckled on the other end of the phone.
“To catch me, you had to think like me.”
“But I didn’t catch you.”
“Not in the sense that I’m locked away. But you did find out who I was.”
“Is Henri Bruns even your name?”
“You tell me, Ben.”
Ben noticed his hand was shaking. He pulled at the bedside drawer and removed a mickey bottle full of whiskey. He glanced at his badge and gun beside him.
“Enough with your games,” Ben said.
“But we’re only getting started.”
The line went dead.
Chapter 22
“The nerve of the animal,” Nate said as they walked into the Eden Falls Police Station the next morning. Both of them were holding coffees. “He’s toying with you.”
“No, he thinks he will learn how I stumbled onto his crimes through his dialogue with me.”
“You’re not going to listen to him, are you? I say we put a trace on your phone.”
“Nate, right now my daughter is out there, perhaps dead for all I know. All I care about is finding this sicko and ending this.”
The room was full of police as well as the medical examiner and the mayor of Eden Falls. Chief Danvers and Dakota were at the front along with two people from the Maine Warden Service who had come in to offer assistance and insights into previous search-and-rescues.
Bangor FBI had already obtained the photos of the victims. They were attached to a wall at the front of the room. Several photos were enlarged to highlight wounds on the Taylor girl’s body. The chief provided a rundown of what the coroner had put in his report then turned it over to Nate. Nate went up front and tried to get the attention of a dozen officers who were joking around.
“Do you find this funny?” he said to one of them who was making light of the death. He went a shade of red before Nate continued. He invited Ben up.
“This is Dr. Benjamin Forrester, he will be working on this case. If he needs anything you are to get it, do I make myself clear?”
There was no animosity between the police and the bureau as some might imagine, in many ways the FBI agents were making their life easy by showing up and working the case.
“Do you have anything to add?” Nate asked Ben.
He nodded. “We need to start with the park rangers and camp employees, there is a good chance our perp is someone who works in the National Park Service.”
“How do you figure that?” one officer asked.
“Are there witness reports of anyone forcing our victims out of the forest? Did anyone hear screams? No. Seven vanished, but they aren’t the only ones. We have a reports going back another four years. There is a strong possibility that he was just warming up. One a year for four years then that changed to two. If we don’t catch him that will increase to three or more next year.”
“Those other women weren’t found,” a man from the Maine Warden Service said. The Maine Warden Service was the law enforcement agency that was usually pulled in when any search-and-rescue operations occurred. They had specialty teams that dealt in aviation, special investigation, and forensic mapping.
“And you are?”
“Ted Bishop.”
“Well, Ted, that doesn’t mean they aren’t alive. It just means our perp has a very specific taste.” Ben turned and tapped each of the photos of the women that had been found.
“Every single one of them had a mark on them. Tattoo, birthmark, or body implant. All of them were found with traces of formaldehyde and glycerin in their system as well as secobarbital sodium which means he is drugging them and possibly has some ties to taxidermy. I want you to get out there and find out who might be involved in that, check the pharmacies to see if anyone has bought a large amount of formaldehyde and glycerin.”
Ben went on to provide a profile of the suspect while Dakota and Nate handed out sheets to officers. “It’s our belief that we are dealing with someone who is from the area, hasn’t had any run-ins with the law, and may even be known by some of you in this room.”
Chief Danvers came up front. He didn’t seem impressed by the fact that the FBI were involved.
“I’m not sure if anyone has told you this yet but we have already done interviews with neighbors in the area.”
“And?” Ben shot back.
“A few of them mentioned that someone had attempted to break the locks on their windows. Now we are pretty certain this is the same individual. The team will be checking for prints today.”
“So you think it was random?” Nate asked.
“That’s my thoughts,” Danvers replied.
“What about the dog?” someone asked.
“He was drugged.”
“Why not just kill it?”
Ben paused before replying, it was long enough for one of the officers to continue.
“Maybe he’s an animal lover.”
“No. He’s just careful,” Ben added.
An officer replied, “Breaking into a house doesn’t seem too careful to me.”
“Have you found him yet? Found any prints? Don’t underestimate this man.”
The fact was they had very little on him. A footprint had been found near the area of Janice’s house but it had no tread to it. They could work out the size of the shoe to be around size thirteen but that didn’t mean anything. Ben believed that he was wearing something custom. Something that couldn’t be traced to any shoes he owned. It was very possible that he had stuffed the inside of the shoe to make it appear that he was a size thirteen when he may have been smaller. He had given a lot of thought to what could or couldn’t be tracked back to him.
As they were about to leave Chief Danvers asked if he could have a word. Nate said he would meet up later for lunch. Ben and Dakota entered Danvers’s office. It was a cramped space with a small wooden table that had a picture of his family on it. Every single thing in that office was in order. Papers pulled together, a filing system for folders, a pen holder, and a small office-sized putting green.
“Do you play golf, Ben?” Danvers asked.
“Not really.”
He raised his eyebrows before taking a shot using a miniature club.
“It lets me think. I can’t be out on the green, so this is the next best thing.”
Dakota looked at Ben and rolled her eyes.
“Listen, I don’t think we got off on the right foot. I’m sorry about what happened to your daughter and we will do our best to find her.”
“How long have you been chief?” Ben asked.
“Ten years. This is a first for us.”
“Even after all those disappearances?” Ben asked.
“Disappearances happen, Ben. We do our best to find them but some people don’t want to be found. We had a man three years ago who parked his vehicle near Acadia and disappeared. He was later found to be living in Las Vegas. Like I said, some people just want to get away and there’s no better place to fake your death than in a national park. Others? Well, it’s treacherous terrain out there. I mean compared to other national parks I think ours fares pretty well.”
&nb
sp; There was a knock at the door.
“Excuse me, chief, looks like we have a second body.”
Ben spun around in his chair, his pulse began to race.
Chapter 23
Fear could paralyze you or push you forward. Right now Ben was using it to get out the door. The thought of Chloe’s body flashed through his mind. Was it her? Please don’t let it be her.
Ben, Dakota, and Nate followed the chief and other officers. The ride out to Duck Brook Bridge in the north end of the island was nerve-wracking. No details had been shared about who the woman was. All that could be heard was the sound of sirens blaring. Cars veered to one side to let them through.
Dakota looked at Ben. No one wanted to say it but everyone was thinking it. Could it be Chloe? The only description given was long dark hair. As they got closer Dakota gave everyone a rundown of the place. The bridge had three archways and four turret-style viewing platforms at the top. The bridge itself was part of the Duck Brook carriage road trailhead. The only way you could reach it was on foot. They drove down a road with the same name and turned off to an area that was blocked by a steel gate.
Police and EMS were on site when they arrived. Red and blue lights flashed as they stopped. Bangor FBI were parked slightly up from the trail. They had already cordoned off the area and police were doing their best to hold back several hikers.
The first question that came out of Ben’s mouth once out of the car was who found her. An officer pointed to a park ranger. He was a skinny kid dressed in a gray uniform with a shiny gold badge. He was wearing the typical park ranger outfit, which included a Stetson hat, black pants, and boots. He stood off to one side speaking with an officer. He glanced momentarily at Ben as he walked by.
“I want to speak to him before we leave.”
It was hard to imagine that these murders were going on right underneath their noses — or that someone had been classing them as accidents but that’s what made this so easy for the madman. Ben didn’t want to look and yet at the same time he needed to know. Following Dakota to the edge he glanced over. All he could see was a dark mass at the bottom. They had partly covered her with a white sheet. For someone looking on, it just looked as though she’d fallen.
“Around this way,” Dakota walked over to the rocky embankment that led down to the brook. The sound of rushing water got louder as they carefully descended the steep slope. Stones broke away and Ben had to brace himself on a tree branch. The chances of a hiker coming down here were slim unless they had a death wish.
All the memories of finding the body buried beneath the earth came flooding back in. A mixture of fear and horror bombarded his senses.
Please don’t be her.
All around them were tall pines. At the bottom Ted Bishop was there, along with Danvers and two other officers. Danvers was looking under the sheet when they approached. Nate and Ben waded out into the water and Danvers pulled it back.
Ben closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked.
“Is it her?” Danvers asked.
He breathed a sigh of relief then shook his head. “No.”
An hour later the body was identified. An officer filled them in. “Patricia Welling, a local. Twenty-two, went to Boston University, lived with her single mother on the west side of the island. Was reported missing three years ago.”
Ben shook his head then rubbed his eyes. Unless the reports were wrong, that would make her the first local woman. He crouched down beside her and looked at her neck. There were no ligature marks except on her hands and feet. Her body was bloated and skin was absent of color. The odor that came off was pungent and foul.
“Was she strangled?” Dakota asked.
“Doesn’t look like it.”
She was fully dressed in what any hiker would wear. She even had a bag on her back. Ben snapped on a latex glove and pressed her skin and moved her arm. The body still had rigor mortis, which meant she’d died within the past thirty-six hours as that was how long it took for it to leave the body. There was no damage to the skin, no animals had feasted on it which led Ben to believe she couldn’t have been here longer than twenty-four hours.
“What can you tell me about this guy who found her?”
“Douglas Adams. Local guy, early twenties, no record of being in trouble with the law except for selling marijuana when he was a kid,” Dakota said.
“Get her over to the medical examiner find out if our guy has had sex with her and if they can find any hairs, semen, or DNA at all,” Nate said.
“Highly doubt it. The last one was clean,” Ben said.
“But he’s having sex with them.”
“Maybe he wears something, shaves, or uses an object to tear them. For all we know he might not even be having sex with them. It’s possible they are getting those tears from whatever he is doing to them.”
Nate furrowed his brow. “You think he’s into bondage?”
“It’s possible. Hooks or some other kind of implement could cause those tears.”
Ben rose to his feet and stared down at her. She was beautiful. A woman that could have easily been in a magazine or made a career out of modeling. The question was why did he kill her three years later? She had been one of the women that had gone missing but had never been found until now.
Dakota made a few notes on a pad.
“He’s keeping them somewhere but where?” Nate asked.
“Has to be local. Possibly in this forest. Are there any homes in the forest itself?”
“Yeah, of course. Cottages and cabins all over the place.”
“We need to start checking those. Going door-to-door.”
An officer stepped in, shaking his head. “That’s going to take some time.”
“Well, you better get started then,” Ben snapped before turning and walking away.
Chapter 24
Light stabbed her eyes.
Chloe Forrester’s eyelids fluttered as she began to stir. It was like awakening from a heavy hangover. She wanted to be sick. Her stomach felt as if she had swallowed one too many headache pills. She blinked hard trying to clear the mind fog.
Her wrists and ankles ached, burned even. As the room came into view, it looked as if she was inside a cave. The ceiling above her couldn’t have been more than seven foot. It wasn’t anything that had been made by human hands. It was rough, jagged, and damp. She could hear the sound of water dripping as she tried to move.
A flood of memories came in. The figure. The masked face approaching her in the darkness. The sheer horror and then a light turning on and Janice’s voice.
She glanced at her body. She was covered but not entirely. She was naked beneath the covers and sore. If he had stripped her, what else could he have done? Suddenly, she had this sick feeling that whoever had taken her had raped her. Where was she? She had no recollection of arriving.
Her mouth was dry. She tried to croak out a cry for help but nothing came out. Again she tried, this time it came out and echoed off the walls. There was no reply. “Please, is anyone there?”
This couldn’t be happening, not to her. She wanted to call for her dad, but no one could hear her here, wherever here was. Dread crept over her like a slow-moving mist. I’ve got to get out of here. She turned her head to the side and saw that her wrists were bound by plastic zip ties. There was no chance of getting out of these. The more you tugged the tighter they became. Small plastic notches kept them from being undone. The only way you could get these off was to cut them. It might have been different if they had tied her hands together. There were ways to break out of ties that her father had shown her but this was impossible.
Every muscle in her body ached. Her head ached. How long had she been here? What day was it? She remembered small snippets of information as if awakening from a dream only to find herself thrust back in. An old man leaning over her, a hood, trees, and… it was just a blur, blending together.
The room she was in, if it could even be called that, had a heavy metal door at th
e far end of the bed and a side table with water. Why was there water if she couldn’t even reach it?
She heard heavy footsteps approaching, then a voice… a female crying out. What the hell was going on? A latch flipped down on the door, and then wild eyes came into view. They were terrifying. Bolts on the door shifted three times
The figure walked in wearing a mask, and a black silk robe. He was completely naked beneath it.
“Finally awake.”
“Please. Why are you doing this?”
“Chloe.”
“How do you know my name?”
He scoffed. “Oh I know a lot about you.” He peeled back the covers to reveal her naked body, then covered her back up. She glimpsed at a small black tattoo of a ram, almost like the sign of Aries on his left wrist.
“Let me go, please. I won’t tell anyone.”
He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Let’s not talk like that.” He stroked the side of her face, she wanted to bite his fingers.
“I’m thirsty.”
He reached for the glass of water. “Sit up.”
She struggled but managed to pull herself up partially. He leaned the glass against her dry lips and she drank. “Slow now. You’ll choke.”
Once she was done, he placed the glass down again. After, he took a hold of her chin and turned her face from side to side observing her before coming in close and gazing into her eyes the way an eye doctor would. She could feel his hot breath on her. It was stale and smelled like cigarette smoke.
“My wrists, they hurt.”
His eyes flared as he looked at them, then without saying another word he got up and left. Anxiety crept up in her chest when he returned a few minutes later holding a serrated edged knife.
Chapter 25
By early afternoon they were still at the crime scene.
Dark clouds had moved in threatening to empty. A cold wind blew the leaves and smaller twigs along the ground. It gave Ben an eerie feeling to think that only hours earlier the killer had been here dropping a lifeless body into the brook.
