Under Devil's Snare
Copyright © 2014 by S.Y. Thompson
Acknowledgments
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Other Titles from S.Y. Thompson
Other Mystic Books
About the Author
Visit Us On Line
Also by S.Y. Thompson:
Under the Midnight Cloak
Now You See Me
Fractured Futures
Destination Alara
Under Devil's Snare
by
S.Y. Thompson
Mystic Books
by Regal Crest
Texas
Copyright © 2014 by S.Y. Thompson
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The characters, incidents and dialogue herein are fictional and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Print ISBN 978-1-61929-204-8
eBook ISBN 978-1-61929-203-1
First Printing 2014
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Cover design by Acorn Graphics
Published by:
Regal Crest Enterprises, LLC
229 Sheridan Loop
Belton, TX 76513
Find us on the World Wide Web at http://www.regalcrest.biz
Published in the United States of America
Acknowledgments
Writing is a passion. It must be or we wouldn’t spend hours in solitude working on such a lonely, albeit satisfying, craft. However, as much as an author invests solitary time creating characters and worlds, no one creates a novel alone. I’d like to acknowledge and thank the readers, my friends and family as well as the other fiction authors who inspire me. My heartfelt gratitude to Linda North, who is always available anytime I need help brainstorming. No one is a better friend or beta. Heather Flournoy, who is the best editor ever, I learn so much from you each time we run through the process. Finally, thank you to my Regal Crest family.
Epigraph
Fantasy, abandoned by reason, produces impossible monsters.
~Francisco Goya
Chapter One
WITHOUT A CLOUD in the sky, the sun shone bright blue overhead. Already past its zenith, it headed quietly toward the horizon. There was a chill in the air despite the sun’s presence, testament to the waning fall season. Birds still sang gaily in the trees and nearby a bee’s wings beat as it flew about in the fruitless search for pollen. On a normal day, all of these things would combine into a glowing testament to the circle of life. This wasn’t a normal day and considering where they stood, these usually bright things felt obscene.
“Did you touch anything?”
Uttered quietly, the question hardly disturbed the air. Jamison Kessler recognized the softly spoken words as respect for the dead. Eight people stood in the clearing, including her, and with her heightened senses she knew where each stood without looking. She absently noted the rigidity in their bodies, the seething anger and unspoken grief. The crime scene technicians waited patiently. They’d already collected evidence and now gave law enforcement officials space to gather their impressions. Once the coroner arrived, they’d collect more evidence from the body. They wouldn’t touch the victim until then.
“No, but I know it was the same guy.”
Jamison had met the detectives from the U.S. Park Police only an hour before. It was the first time since working at the park that she had needed to call in the big guns and wasn’t happy to do so now. Normally, the park police were stationed at the more populated areas and content to leave the local rangers alone to perform their duties. Jamison’s instincts told her that each of the detectives were self-assured and had been doing this type of work for years.
Their leader, Patricia Hex, was of average height and build with dark brown hair and keen sable eyes. Everything about the woman’s appearance said she was “average” but Jamison sensed there was much more to her than met the eye. Although she seemed a little more forceful than necessary, Jamison thought she had an air of compassion and quiet strength.
“How do you know it was a guy?”
Jamison’s slightly lopsided smile held no amusement, only bitterness. “I don’t, but you know the stats as well as I do.”
“Yeah, white male typically between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five. Yadda, yadda...”
In point of fact, Jamison didn’t know anything except that another young woman had met a grisly end. Standing a few feet from the body, Jamison couldn’t help but scan the slight form lying under a blanket of leaves and brush. Only the head lay exposed and from the short distance, it was almost possible to believe that she merely slept. The killer had combed the blonde hair straight back from the forehead and applied fresh lipstick. Jamison had witnessed the same scenario two weeks before, the details exactly the same. Only the victim had changed. Sometimes, Jamison wished her species’ abilities included selective amnesia.
“I took a report over the phone from a young woman who said she found a body in the woods. I came out here myself to check the scene. Rangers Thomas and Latimer secured the perimeter while I contacted you. My next call was the local coroner’s office, but I guess you had the pleasure of beating them here.”
Jamison couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice. Her ire wasn’t directed toward the Park Police or the investigative team’s leader, Detective Patricia Hex, but frustration got the better of her. Compounding her frustration, even her enhanced Panthera senses couldn’t detect any trace of the killer on the victim. Someone was smart enough to use forensic counter measures and Jamison wasn’t above calling out Mickey Mouse if he could help solve these crimes. This unfortunate woman was the second murder victim in only a few weeks and Jamison felt things were beginning to spiral out of control.
Hex snorted in response. “You know very well that Park Rangers share jurisdiction with the criminal investigative division of the U.S. Park Police, but what’s she doing here?”
Detective Hex’s brown eyes rested on a small, uniformed woman squatting beside the body. Sheriff Samantha Macke’s wide brimmed Smokey cast her face in shadow so that even Jamison couldn’t see her expression.
“I know all about jurisdiction, Hex, but this is way above my pay grade. I’m a park ranger and I deal with four-legged predators. Whoever is doing this didn’t leave any clues on the first victim and I’ll go out on a limb and bet you a month’s pay that it’s the same this time. Sheriff Macke may be a local cop, but she has experience with murder investigations and I trust her.”
“Unlike us, huh?”
Jamison’s eyes met Hex’s fully for the first time since the detective had arrived on scene. The lack of progress in finding the killer and now this second murder had her nerves on edge and her anger overflowed. “We don’t have time for a pissing contest, Detective Hex. If you have a problem with Macke, tell me now and we’ll just forget I ever called you.”
Hex’s dark eyes narrowed as she assessed Jamison for a few intense
moments. Jamison wondered if she would walk away over a jurisdictional issue. If she did, Jamison didn’t want her help anyway. She didn’t need someone who would give up so easily. The victims deserved better.
“I only meant that you don’t really know us, my team that is. It’s only natural that you’d want someone here that you’re familiar with, but we’re here and we’re going to need your cooperation. Now if you’ll excuse me, we have a crime to investigate.”
Hex drifted away, calling to her crew. The second in command of the Major Crimes Unit, Jack Chase, wore an Armani suit but had the sense to wear comfortable shoes in the woods. Jamison thought he’d probably changed from a more expensive pair in the car. While she watched, Hex and Chase conferred and after a few minutes, he started sauntering around the crime scene with a camera. Since the forensics team had already taken photos, Jamison assumed the detectives wanted their own. The final member, Leann Seaver, scanned the area for anything forensics might have missed but had yet to place a single placard indicating a clue. She also carried a tablet, sketching an image of the scene with a stylus as she went. No one attempted to lift fingerprints from the scene, probably because there wasn’t a single object in the clearing capable of holding a print except possibly somewhere on the victim. They’d all leave that for the medical examiner.
The Harmon County Medical Examiner’s van rolled to a stop at the edge of the firebreak. Jamison felt a sense of relief wash over her when Doctor Laura Paul exited the vehicle. Her red-gold hair sparkled in the sunlight as she turned her head to meet Jamison’s gaze. Her senses expanded and silent, mental communication ensued.
It’s all right. You’ll find who did this.
The message from her longtime friend carried a wealth of feelings including reassurance and regret for the loss of life. Jamison gave Laura a small, almost imperceptible nod. She turned her attention back to Sheriff Macke while Laura pulled on a sterile set of coveralls, preparing to approach the scene.
Chase stopped taking pictures and removed a note pad from his inside coat pocket as he headed for Sheriff Macke. From a distance of thirty feet, Jamison eavesdropped shamelessly. “Did you investigate the previous scene, Sheriff?”
Macke stood slowly and tipped her head to look at Chase. She was a small woman, but Jamison never considered her less than formidable in her natural law enforcement element. “Yeah, I was there.”
“Was there anything that stood out at the previous crime scene, any details that might help us catch this killer?”
“I can assure you, detective, if there was I’d already have the son of a bitch in custody.”
Unperturbed by the terse response, Chase nodded and stepped out of the way for Doctor Paul. Laura glanced at Macke before kneeling beside her and taking a medical probe from her small, black bag. Jamison looked away. She didn’t want to watch Laura insert the liver probe. Standard operating procedure required Laura to use the device to help determine time of death, but Jamison could tell from the smell of decomposition that the woman had been dead for a few days.
Unlike Jamison, Chase seemed fascinated by the procedure. He leaned over slightly, eyes riveted as Laura carefully brushed leaves away from the woman’s abdominal region with her gloved hands.
“I assume you performed the autopsy on the first victim, Doctor Paul. Do you still have the other body?”
“No,” Laura admitted. “Ranger Kessler, the forensics team and Sheriff Macke checked the body over for any evidence. I conducted the autopsy and then released the body to the family after completing my pathology report.”
“What were your findings?”
“The victim, Pauline Nielson, died of exsanguination.”
“She bled to death.”
“Precisely. The killer used a very sharp, single-bladed weapon to inflict two deep lacerations. One of the cuts transected the femoral artery in her groin and the second severed the brachial artery inside the left upper arm. She would have bled out in less than a minute.”
“Like a hunting knife, maybe?” Detective Chase jotted down a few words. “Did you find any trace from the killer?”
“Nothing, nor did Ms. Nielson have any defensive wounds and there was no sign of sexual assault.”
Chase nodded and frowned, clearly not liking the answer. He handed Doctor Paul a white business card, realized she didn’t have any free hands, and carefully slipped it into her coverall pocket. “My fax number is on there. Would you mind sending along a copy of your pathology report on the first victim and anything you may find with this one?”
Jamison watched as Sheriff Macke backed away a few paces to give the medical examiner room to work. Her dark eyes kept track of every move. To be effective, Jamison knew Sam needed to ensure everyone followed strict procedures to prevent any tainting of evidence.
“Of course, I’ll see to it as soon as I get back to the office.” Laura frowned slightly and looked at Jamison.
Laura silently communicated her anxiety to Jamison. Both had concluded from the first attack that the victim must have known the attacker or it was someone she trusted. Since she hadn’t defended herself, it was the only thing that made sense. Detective Hex squatted beside the unfortunate victim, bagging evidence. Hex removed debris from the body slowly, making sure to preserve everything. She confiscated every twig, leaf and pill bug. Jamison’s nose twitched while she observed.
Jamison couldn’t help but feel that she should have found something to bring the killer to justice before this second attack. She should have been able to put a swift end to this, which was why she carried so much guilt over the latest murder. That she had to call in outside help from the U.S. Park Police was just further proof of her failure.
“She’s still wearing her cell,” Detective Hex commented, handling the device with gloves. The phone went into another bag. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll have some identification on her.”
“That would be nice,” Doctor Paul said. “Jamison, I mean, Ranger Kessler helped identify Ms. Nielson. She had registered with the Paul Smith’s Visitor’s Center as a camper a few days before she was found.”
Jamison felt Laura flinch almost imperceptibly. She must have felt Jamison’s displeasure. Jamison wanted the Park Police to prove how good they were by finding out all this information on their own instead of having it spoon-fed to them. Hex raised a disapproving eyebrow in her direction but remained squatted beside the medical examiner.
“I’ll assume you were going to tell me about that later.”
Jamison shrugged in response. “It’s a matter of public record.”
“We’ll need to check out her campsite.”
“We already did.” Jamison frowned and shook her head. “We didn’t find anything. Whoever did this killed her somewhere else and moved the body.”
“That’s nice. Still, humor me and let us examine the scene for ourselves.”
Jamison let out an aggravated sigh. She needed their help and couldn’t afford to keep the detectives at arm’s length. While being territorial was part of her animal psyche, she had to overcome her baser instincts. She had expected the detectives to want to check the campsite, but it wouldn’t really do them any good. Still, what did she know? Jamison wasn’t a homicide detective and acting like a jerk didn’t accomplish anything.
“That crime happened two weeks ago and it’s rained since then, but whatever you say. Thomas can take you over there when you’re ready.”
“I think we’ve done everything we can here.” Hex stood and moved toward her team to compare notes.
Ranger Brenda Thomas looked her way when Jamison called her name. She stood at the far edge of the perimeter tape to keep out any curious tourists. So far there were none, but it was late in the season. Her alert expression and competent demeanor impressed Jamison. Thomas was coming up on her one-year anniversary as a park ranger and had come a long way from the shy, introverted woman she’d been the first day.
“You’re doing a good job, Brenda.”
“Thanks, Chief.”
Jamison almost told Thomas not to call her “chief” but she wasn’t in the mood for their usual banter. “I need you to show the detectives to Ms. Nielsen’s old campsite.”
“I’m on it.”
Forensic experts reentered the scene to finish looking for potential evidence. Ranger Latimer glanced around and Jamison could see the concern on his face. A little more experienced than Thomas, Latimer seemed more interested with maintaining the integrity of the scene, but his worries were unfounded. Two more park personnel blocked the only treks leading into this part of the woods to ensure no unauthorized personnel made it through.
“Your thoughts?”
Jamison lifted an eyebrow as Sheriff Macke stepped to her. “That I want to strangle the bastard who did this.”
“Agreed, let me rephrase. Do your...instincts...tell you anything about this crime that I don’t know?”
“Not really. I can tell you that she’s been here for about four days. The cool weather we’ve had has helped preserve the body. I also know she didn’t die here, there’s not enough blood. Beyond that, I’m just as baffled as the next person. I smell bleach and disinfectant.”
“So someone is smart enough to clean up after themselves. I’m surprised the critters haven’t gotten to her yet.” There was nothing frivolous or disrespectful in Macke’s tone, just an honest appraisal. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something that will lead us to the perp.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it.”
“Shit, Kessler. Don’t sound so hopeful.”
“Look, Sheriff, no disrespect but we didn’t find anything on the Nielsen woman and unless this freak got careless, I doubt we’re going to find anything this time. The only way we’re going to know who did this is through good old-fashioned police work, something at which I know you excel.”
Under Devil's Snare (Under Series Book 2) Page 1
