Bring Me Flowers_A gripping serial-killer thriller with a shocking twist

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Bring Me Flowers_A gripping serial-killer thriller with a shocking twist Page 8

by D. K. Hood


  Fifteen

  Kane did the usual sweep of his house, checking for any intruders or bugs. Confident his home was secure, he emptied his pockets, removed his holster, and stripped off his uniform. He dropped the garments into the washing machine then headed for the bathroom. He had a lot to think about and the shower was his refuge of choice. The arrival of Shane Wolfe had surprised him but he would be an asset to the team. Wolfe had spent his time wisely by continuing his studies to become top in his field in forensic and computer science. Once his wife died, the government ordered Wolfe back to active service. Why put the three of us together? It makes no sense.

  He stepped from the shower and dressed. His gaze settled on his notepad and his immediate priorities slammed into place. He had a young woman lying on a slab in the mortuary, and he owed it to her and her family to find her killer.

  After dragging on a T-shirt and jeans, he padded barefoot to the bedroom he’d converted into an office. Set up much like Jenna’s, he had a full CCTV network of cameras around Jenna’s property linked to flat screens. Luckily, Jenna had convinced Mayor Petersham to fund a system for the town and public areas. He sat at his desk, turned on the laptop, and went over the information he had taken from his visit to the Parkers.

  His experience in profiling suspects had often meant life or death for him in the past. He studied a person’s behavior or reaction, and the flicker of eyes or beads of sweat spoke volumes. The interview with Felicity’s parents had told him one thing: Neither of them had anything to do with her murder. He watched their reaction at the viewing of their daughter’s body. Both had responded normally; that kind of shock, horror, and anger did not come from a killer.

  His experience in dealing with grief was limited, and standing beside the couple during the viewing was disturbing. No one could ever forget seeing a loved one murdered. Disturbing memories remained forever, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not forget the faces of the men he had killed in the line of duty. To him, not one was “the target,” the term used by the kill squad to eradicate the human element from the shooter’s mind. He remembered the names and faces of them all.

  He scanned the files Wolfe recently added to Felicity Parker’s case and found his conclusions solid. Although the results of soil samples and bodily fluids would take some time, the forensic examination of the scene was impressive. Wolfe had noted the absence of Felicity’s footprints in the immediate area, which would mean the killer, or one of her killers, carried her to the rock. The autopsy proved the killer had viciously raped her but Wolfe had found no evidence of that happening on the rock. She was raped and killed in a different place—but where? The killer had eviscerated her post-mortem on the flat rock. He concluded the act was ritual in nature and if two men were involved one would be dominant and calling the shots, while the other looked on. He could not discount the fact one man was responsible, in fact it was uncommon to have two serial killers working together. They don’t like to share.

  Kane rubbed the back of his neck. He had studied murderers and interviewed serial killers and sociopaths from every walk of life. The fact he had used her then “cleansed” her in the river before cutting her throat followed the pattern of one person’s very disturbed mind. The lewd positioning of the body and makeup made him believe the killer had suffered prolonged abuse as a child, perhaps from a woman who wore bright red lipstick. The killer would have despised her but craved the love she denied him. The flowers were significant. Violated children often tried to placate their abusers.

  Had Felicity gone willingly into the forest with her killer? Was he someone she trusted? He did not recall any signs of a struggle on the footpath and he doubted a girl of her age would leave the trail and risk plowing through dense undergrowth alone in the summer. She was a local and would be fully aware of the wildlife. He scrolled through the photographs of the scene, zooming in on each one. As he moved his mouse over the image of the footprints surrounding the rock, goosebumps ran up his arms.

  Holy shit! The footprints all led away from the river and toward the rock where the body lay. He searched the images, zooming in on the far side of the clearing, and his stomach clenched. Practically concealed by bushes, a second path led from the opposite side of the clearing. He cursed under his breath and pulled up every photograph of the area. From a different angle, he could make out a bend in the path turning it toward the river and not deeper into the forest. As none of them had known the area, they had no idea which was the regular path to the riverbank. On arrival, they had been engrossed with the murder scene and the trail of footprints leading from the river; none of them had considered the victim or killer had taken a different route on the way to the riverbank.

  He grabbed his cellphone and called Jenna. When she picked up, he explained what he had found. “Do you want me to take Wolfe with me after our meeting and take another look? I hope the scene is secure. Walters put tape across the entrance to the area and posted a sign.”

  “How did we miss the other pathway? We should have had Rowley with us. A local would have known it existed.”

  “We were all concerned with gathering evidence from the scene. The problem is if we missed any evidence, the killer could have returned by now to sanitize the place. I am surprised he didn’t try to cover the footprints.”

  “The kids might have disturbed him before he had the chance?”

  He stared at the computer screen and sighed. “Maybe. I would like to know how he knew no one would be there at that time of day. He has to be a local. And how did he lure Felicity to the riverbank? We know she was heading in a different direction. I believe she knew her killer and he planned the murder ahead of time.”

  “It’s a bit far-fetched to believe an obvious psychopath not only planned for her to be in that location but managed to, as you say, ‘lure’ her to the riverbank. Why would she change direction and head for the forest when she had planned to meet her friends and head into town?”

  “Do you believe teenage girls never tell lies or keep secrets from their parents?” Kane cleared his throat. “For all we know, she made a date to meet someone, her boyfriend or someone else in the forest. She must have gone there willingly or we would have found signs of a struggle on the trail into the forest from Stanton Road. Don’t forget there are cowboys in town and they are attractive to teenage girls. Add the fact she left home wearing pink cowboy boots, and after the act Lucky and Storm put on yesterday, they are on the top of my list.”

  “Why not the boyfriend? We can’t rule him out yet.”

  “I’m not leaning heavily toward the boyfriend. The profile doesn’t fit a teenage killer—it says older man to me, probably late twenties or older, Caucasian and has killed before.”

  “Her boyfriend is twenty and on the college football team, so he’ll be big. At that size, age doesn’t come into it, does it? He would be more than capable of killing her and we haven’t had time to check him out.”

  “For me, he remains a suspect mainly because of motive. I would like to know why they argued —what if she was pregnant?”

  “The laying of flowers too.”

  “Yes, and not jealousy or a crime of passion.” Kane stretched and yawned. “We need her phone records pronto to see if she made or received a call before or after leaving home.”

  “I’ll have them by the morning but until we get the lab results we’re flying blind. I understand your concern—I want to catch this monster too.” Jenna sighed. “It’s late and I’m exhausted. You must be too and we all need to be on our toes right now. I’m done for the day, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  The line went dead.

  Kane stared at the call-ended message on his cellphone in disbelief. He had so many theories to discuss with her. The meeting they had planned for the morning had ruffled her feathers. With luck, what he planned to reveal about her two deputies should smooth them back down.

  Sixteen

  The moment Jenna’s cruiser, with Deputy Wolfe at the wheel, drove pa
st her house, she opened the front door, set the house alarm and stepped onto the porch. The morning chill refreshed her on the walk to Kane’s cottage. The secrecy of the meeting troubled her. What had Wolfe discovered about her? Damn well nothing. The DHS had sealed her file in concrete. She straightened, needing to appear confident and in charge, although weariness dragged at her. After receiving Kane’s call, she had not slept and spent long hours going over the images of the crime scene. How many times before Kane arrived in town had she failed to notice important details? No wonder he’d been frustrated with her after the incident at the fairgrounds. Three years ago, she had been at the top of her game. Am I losing my edge?

  Kane had failed to arrive for their usual workout at six. Perhaps now Shane Wolfe was in town, he had made other plans. She had enjoyed going through a routine of punishing exercise with him, and of late, he had taken her defensive skills to a higher level by showing her different moves. Letting out a long sigh, she stepped onto his stoop and knocked on the door.

  “Come in, Dave is pouring the coffee.” Wolfe smiled at her. “The live-in nanny is already settled, I moved her in last night. You were right, she is a gift and my kids love her, she reminds them of their grandmother.”

  She returned his smile and strolled past him through the family room and into the kitchen. The rich smell of Kane’s favorite coffee filled the room and she relaxed a little. “That’s wonderful and such a weight off your mind.”

  “Take a seat.” Kane handed her a steaming mug.

  “I feel as if I’ve entered the Spanish Inquisition.”

  “Nothing of the sort.” Wolfe sat beside her and reached for his coffee.

  “We decided it would be better if we had everything out in the open.” Kane turned a chair around and straddled the seat, resting his arms on the hooped back. “We have to work together and it would make life easier if we told you how Shane and I know each other.”

  Kane lied to me. Jenna adopted her best blank expression then looked from one to the other. “Oh, so why tell me you’d never met?” Both men remained silent just staring at her. Annoyed, she pushed to her feet. “Oh, never mind, we don’t have time for this. In case you’ve forgotten, we have a homicide to solve.” She headed for the door.

  “Jenna.” Kane sprang to his feet. “Wait! We know you’re in witness protection.”

  Fear gripped her throat. She stopped mid-stride and turned slowly to face them. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about but do go on, this story is better than fiction.”

  “Please sit down.” Wolfe pulled out the chair beside him. “We believe you should be aware of who we are and why we know about your situation.”

  Dropping into the seat, she glared at Kane. “You knew about me all this time?”

  “Nope.” Kane shrugged nonchalantly. “This was a shock for me too. Until Wolfe arrived, I was under the impression I was here to start a new life.” He lifted his troubled gaze to her. “He used to be my contact at HQ. I didn’t know his real name and yesterday was the first time we met.”

  Heart pounding like a marching band she eyed them suspiciously. “How much do you know about my situation?”

  “Zip.” Kane sipped his coffee and eyed her over the steaming rim. “Other than if you’re compromised it will open up a can of worms.”

  “What’s your story?” She massaged her temples. “Is the head injury a lie too?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s true and I honestly believed I came to Black Rock Falls to semi-retire.” Kane rubbed his chin and dropped his blue gaze to the table. “But if I disappear one day it’s because I’ve been compromised.” He gave her a long look and a nerve in one cheek ticked. “That’s all I’m prepared to tell you.”

  “How bad can it be?” She gaped at him and came close to losing her hard-fought composure. “Look, Dave, it’s obvious you’re special forces. I’m not stupid.”

  “It’s not pretty but I’ll give you an abridged version. Just for the record, I’m not in witness protection. I spent five years in DC’s Special Forces Investigation Command as a sharpshooter. Enemy agents placed a bomb under my car. The blast killed my wife and caved in my skull. To take me off the radar, I went off the grid and became Dave Kane, a retired homicide detective injured in the line of duty.”

  The jigsaw fell into place. His superior skills, the way he handled trouble. Kane could think and act fast in a crisis. She bit back a moan. No wonder he had avoided her and other women. The poor man was mourning his wife. She reached across the table and squeezed his arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Why didn’t you tell me you’d lost your wife?”

  “In Dave Kane’s life, she doesn’t exist.” Kane covered her hand. “If we intend to stay alive, we have to live the lie.”

  “The problem is the hackers are getting smarter by the second.” He cleared his throat almost apologetically, then shrugged. “It may be years or weeks before or if anything happens but these people rarely give up. We need to watch each other’s backs.”

  “Why are you here?” She withdrew her hand from Kane’s arm and turned to Wolfe.

  “What you see is what you get.” Wolfe chuckled, and for the first time, his pale gray eyes sparkled. “I’m clean but I’m the ears and eyes the bad guys won’t be expecting. I’ll soon have a fail-safe on every device you use and we’ll know the moment anyone puts your names in a search engine.”

  “I think you have quite a team at your disposal.” Kane leaned back in his chair and his blue eyes narrowed at her. “Unless working with me is a problem for you now, ma’am?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. He had gone to hell and back yet been supportive and kind to her from the first day he arrived. He had become her rock and she had to say something, give him something in return. “I worked undercover for the DEA.”

  “Okay, say no more.” Kane’s worried gaze moved over her face. “Now I know why you stuck a gun in my face the day we met.”

  “She what?” Wolfe’s mouth gaped open.

  “Leave it alone, Shane.” Kane drained his mug then flashed a white smile at her. “We are BFF’s now.”

  “Right.” Jenna laughed.

  “You don’t know, do you?” Wolfe looked from one to the other in amazement. “Viktor Carlos’s right-hand man turned informant and gave up the entire gang. The next day someone murdered Carlos in prison. It happened the day before I left home. I guess it didn’t make the news here. You are safe, Jenna. It’s over. He can’t hurt you.”

  She gaped at him in disbelief. “So why am I still here?”

  “Because you know too much.” Wolfe sighed. “It’s the way of things, I’m afraid. I guess you could ask to be reassigned?”

  Suddenly feeling as if a great weight had lifted from her shoulders, she looked at the men. “I happen to like being the sheriff of Black Rock Falls.”

  “So are we good?” Kane scratched his chin.

  “Yeah and now we have cleared the air, are you ready to catch a killer?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Kane’s grin had not faded.

  She stood and pulled out her notepad. “I’ll need my car keys.” Flipping open her notes, she looked at Kane. “I sent emails out to the other sheriff departments in the state requesting information on similar cases. I cc’d you in, Kane, so the emails will go straight to your cellphone.” She sucked in a breath. “I gather from your talk with Felicity’s parents, the boyfriend, Derick Smith, has a part-time job at Miller’s Garage on Saturdays and during summer break? I want you to interview him just to see if he is as squeaky clean as George thinks. He lives on Pine Forest Road, a block away from Felicity’s house, he could have driven past her on the way to work.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “After you’re done with Smith, pick up Wolfe and head back out to the crime scene and check out the other trail.” She glanced at her notes. “Something you said last night made me think. It wasn’t hot yesterday and yet I didn’t notice any pools of water at the scene. The victim’s hair was damp but
the killer had taken the time to brush it. I studied the images as well and didn’t notice any muddy footsteps leading away from the rock in any direction as you mentioned. You were correct. All the footprints led away from the river. If the killer placed the body on the rock, cut her up, dried her hair and brushed it, then picked flowers before he left, somehow he left no trace of his movements in or around the clearing.”

  “We’ll look closer.” Wolfe gave her a determined stare. “I’ll break down the area into a grid and we’ll search every damn inch. I’ll find something we can use.” He handed Jenna her car keys.

  “Do you mind if I grab Rowley and take him with us?” Kane rubbed his chin. “As he’s lived here all his life, he’ll know all the tracks throughout the forest.”

  Jenna nodded in agreement. “Good idea. I’ll be out of the office for an hour or so.” She headed for the door. “Maggie will have to manage for a short while. I’m going to visit Aimee Fox and see if she can shed some light on Felicity’s movements before her death. I’ll call first to make sure one of her parents is there before I question her.” She stopped walking and gave Kane a long look over one shoulder. “I’ll take Deputy Walters as backup.”

  “Good idea.” Kane followed close behind her. “I’ll call you if we find anything.”

  She turned and flicked a gaze over both men. “I’ll do the same.”

  Seventeen

  Kane strolled into Miller’s Garage to interview Derick Smith with his military mindset fully loaded. A familiar calmness descended on him, bringing everything around him into perfect clarity. If Derick had killed Felicity, his instincts would scream, “Guilty.” He avoided the office and walked past the gas pumps and into the garage.

  Two cars sat on the hoists with a man working on each. He had spoken to George Miller, the owner of the place, many times, so the young muscular man in dirty coveralls had to be Derick. He took in the size of him—not only young and as strong as a bull but he could plainly see marks on one forearm resembling scratches. The strong, fit football player could render a full-grown man unconscious with one punch, and overpowering a sixteen-year-old girl would be a piece of cake.

 

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