by C. K. Raggio
Hank’s eyes widened at the mention of his wife. “I’m going to set up extra patrols. I’ll station them outside each of our houses and neighborhoods.”
“Good,” Rick said. “Also, maybe to be on the safe side, none of us, male or female, should check out any leads without a partner.”
Someone knocked on the front door and Hank waved in a young officer. He stepped in and began to speak in a rush. “Elderly lady, living eight houses down says she saw a huge dog a few hours ago. Said it was the size of a lion and cut through the far corner of her property. She thought she’d taken too many of her pills and went to bed. She’s outside if you want to speak with her.”
“Have her come in.” Cassie rose from her chair. “It has to be Mrs. Artworth. Right across from her house is a trail that leads through a wooded field and to the highway.”
“Could a car have parked there?” Rick asked.
“Yup. Nobody would’ve been able to see a vehicle there from the highway, or my street.”
“Well, at least we know he’s not Houdini. Son of a bitch,” Rick said as the little old lady hobbled in.
CHAPTER 14
Timmy placed a hand to his chest. It was tight, constricting his breathing. He stared at his reflection in his bathroom mirror, gulping air. His face went from pink to crimson.
If it hadn’t been for those damn storm windows, they would’ve had the bitch. Three days earlier, the Plexiglas hadn’t been up. Yesterday, when he went to double check everything, John had been puttering around the house. He should’ve stuck around to see what he was doing.
He gripped the edge of the counter. He’d gotten the hell out of there because Snow and Sable had been playing in the surf. The last thing he needed was to risk them seeing or smelling him.
Stupid. Stupid. The vanity shook as he bounced his head off the mirror. Now that plan was shot. He’d never failed before. The reality infuriated him.
At this moment he’d have had her, gagged and immobile. What would she have looked like strapped naked to his table? Her breasts rising and falling with each breath. How loud would she have screamed? Timmy had gone over what he wanted to do with her so many times.
He’d start with slow, shallow nicks on her thighs, giving the blood ample time to seep to the surface. The tiny, red dots clinging to the split skin despite the writhing of her muscle beneath it. Then he’d watch for that first trickle. If the wait was too long, he’d deepen the cut. The sweet tang of Cassandra’s blood would tease his nose. He’d grin and cut again.
Timmy opened his eyes. The blood in his veins pulsed and rushed to his groin. He took a breath. She’d have to be put on the back burner until he found some way to make her his. Since this plan had been foiled, he’d have to be content in hurting her in a different way.
A new strategy took shape in his mind. “Not as much fun, but it could work.” It would get everyone scrambling. He’d be able to watch the supposed heroes, crying and sobbing into their hankies. Counties of people afraid to go outside, or stay in their homes alone. All for the fear of a small town country boy and his dogs.
He smiled. The key to all of this would be that gossip whore Peggy. She knew everything about everybody who came into her diner. If by chance she didn’t know what he needed, she’d be able to tell him who would. He was good at making people trust him. Good at getting them to answer his questions without ever really asking them. He’d go in the morning, get the ball rolling.
His hands tensed, and his fingers threatened to snap. He released the counter, letting his fingernails dig into his palms. He needed to let it go, but images of Cassandra thrashing around as he beat her senseless flashed in his thoughts. He shut his eyes and took another breath.
The things he could’ve done to her. Cutting. Slicing. Hacking. He slid his hand down and grasped his erection, throwing his head back. He moaned. Anger washed over his ecstasy. His penis softened. Here he was alone with his hand down his pants while that bitch and her friends laughed at his failure.
He stared into his blazing eyes reflected in the vanity mirror. How could I let her beat me? How did that fucking woman one-up me?
His fist flew at the mirror and his face exploded into shards of glass. Blood pooled from the shallow ruts in his knuckles. Jagged edges reflected pieces of what was once a full image a man who had failed. Timmy took a long steadying breath and his head cleared. He smiled into the center of the wooden frame. He would not fail again.
CHAPTER 15
Cassie and Izzy pulled down Josh Meyers block. “It’s up here on the right,” Cassie said, pointing out a wrought iron gate a few hundred feet up the street. She shoved their list of everyone who owned hunting dogs and/or hunting or fishing licenses back in its folder.
They’d been questioning people all day and none of them seemed to match up with Rick’s profile. Josh Meyer definitely had the dog training skills, he was single, the right age, but he also had a definite love for animals that they weren’t sure if their killer would be able to have.
They’d questioned Josh already, but then his name came up as having a hunting license so they’d decided to pay him another visit.
Izzy slowed the car and grabbed onto Cassie’s coat. “What the hell is that?”
Cassie followed her gaze. Beside the gate was a dog with his mouth and legs duct-taped together like a calf at a rodeo. “Oh, God. Stop the car.”
They parked and jumped out as the front gate opened and a pick up bowled through. Josh Meyer and another man with faded jeans and a red volunteer t-shirt rushed to the dog’s side.
Josh kneeled down beside the dog and cut through the silver stickiness that bound its legs together. The black pit bull whined, but didn’t struggle. His ribs jutted from his emaciated body as he cowered and shivered in the dirt.
With the temperature in the low thirties and dropping, Cassie wondered how much longer the dog would’ve lasted. She brushed tears from her cheeks. How could someone be so cruel? Memories came back to her from when she rescued Snow and Sable from the crack house garage. They’d been locked in small cages, lying in their own feces for who knows how long. The crack house had no ventilation and it had been August. Another few hours and they would’ve been dead.
Josh moved his hand up and down the black fur covering the bony contours. “Nothing seems broken.” He cradled the dog’s chin, staring at its taped muzzle. “All right, buddy, this isn’t going to feel good, but it has to come off.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Izzy took a step back. “I mean, aren’t you supposed to muzzle a dog if they’re in distress and you have to move them?”
Josh gaped at her. “This dog is on the verge of hyperthermia, starved nearly to death and couldn’t gather the energy to scratch a flea if he tried.” He glanced over his shoulder at the volunteer. “Stan, come around here and put some pressure on the dog’s shoulder for me so the detective won’t have to worry about being mauled.”
“Sure.” Stan glowered at Izzy and placed a hand lightly on the quivering fur.
Cassie grimaced as Josh worked at loosening the tape a bit before ripping it to the side. The dog yelped, opened and closed its mouth a few times. His tail wagged and he crawled forward, tape hanging from his jaws. With a quiet whine, he rested his head on Josh’s knee.
“This one is definitely a killer,” Josh said, petting the dog’s head.
Izzy crammed her hands deep into her pockets, staring at her feet.
“I have to speak to the detectives,” Josh said to Stan. “Take him up to Dr. Mathers, explain the situation and I’ll be there as soon as I can. If you need anything call me.”
Stan picked the dog up and placed him carefully in the truck. Cassie watched him pull away, then glanced back at the duct tape binding on the ground, tufts of black fur covered one side. The dog’s pitiful whines echoed in her ears. You’d think with everything she’d seen in the past two months, a skinny dog with some tape on his face and legs would be a relaxing day at the beach. Great, now a
long with headless women, she’d be dreaming about tortured dogs.
Izzy fingered the diamond stud in her ear. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“I’m going to keep him,” Josh said. “Get some weight on his bones, then put him up for adoption.” He picked up the tape, wadded it in a ball and shoved it in his pocket.
“Does this happen a lot?” Cassie asked.
Anger edged Josh’s voice. “More than you’d expect and not all of them look that good, believe it or not.” His lips stretched tight over his teeth. “Anyway, I’m guessing you have some more questions for me? I’d like to get to the vet.”
“Of course.” She already knew where Josh was when somebody had tried to break into her house, but she still needed to ask. See his reaction. “Where were you last Saturday, early afternoon?”
Josh angled his head to the side, confusion lined his face. “I was here with your dad.”
“Times please,” Izzy said, scribbling in a notebook.
“Um, your father and Sam stopped by at about 9:30 and Gary White was also here around the same time. Gary left at about 10:15. Sam got a call a little while after and also left. I think your father was here till about 1:00 when Sam picked him back up.”
The times matched up to what Cassie remembered. She glanced down at Josh’s feet. He wore sneakers. “What size shoe are you?” They’d sent the FBI the imprints of the paw and boot prints they found outside her window. They’d determined they were from a common hunting boot that could be found in any neighborhood sports or specialty store, but at least they had the size and tread pattern to work with.
“An eleven.”
They continued to stare down at his feet. Josh shrugged, braced against the fence and removed his shoe. Size eleven was stamped on the bottom.
Izzy jotted something down in her book while Josh put his sneaker back on.
“That’s all for now,” Izzy said. “We’ll let you know if we have any other questions. Hope the dog will be okay.”
Josh grinned at her. “I’m sorry I snapped at you before. It’s just pits get such a bad rap. If that’d been a golden retriever you never would’ve worried about me taking the tape off.”
Izzy smiled at him, fluttering her lashes.
You’ve got be kidding me? Cassie put a hand on her hip. Was she really flirting with him right now? “Josh, one more question.”
“Sure.”
Cassie explained a bit about the dog involved in the case, trying to keep it as vague as possible. “How long do you think it would take to train a dog like that?”
“Huh, can’t really be sure. That would definitely take some major work. Most of the dogs I rehab I do the opposite with. They’re already aggressive or fearful and I teach them how not to be.”
“Just an estimation,” Cassie said.
“If I had to guess, I’d think at least two, three years. And they’d be better off having them as puppies.”
“Really, that long?” Izzy asked.
“Well, teaching an animal to be aggressive probably wouldn’t take too long, but teaching them to be controlled and aggressive would. From what you’re explaining it sounds like this dog is actually getting better, more experienced. This guy has got him trained like a police dog or war dog.”
“Thanks for your time.” Cassie followed Izzy back to the car. A police or war dog? The idea of the killer being in law enforcement or the military had been thrown around, but not seriously. They needed to take another look at the K9 handlers on the force. Backtrack on their suspect lists as a whole. They’d missed something, she could feel it in her bones.
~~~
Izzy braked at every pedestrian crosswalk as they drove through town. Wreaths hung from every lamppost, making Cassie sigh. Thanksgiving had gone by in a blur. With five days till Christmas and a blizzard on the way, people swarmed up and down Main Street like a bunch of worker ants. They went from store to store, weighted down by their immense amounts of packages.
She elbowed Cassie as they stopped at a light. “Check this guy out.”
A man with an ancient-looking Toyota was loading so many bags of Ice Melt in his trunk the car’s frame skimmed the ground. Not to mention, the pile of snow shovels he’d tied to his roof.
“I swear, it’s people like him that get everyone into a frenzy.” Izzy smiled. “And he’s going back in for more.”
Cassie chuckled. “Guy’s probably gonna come out with a dozen snow blowers next.”
“Probably.” Izzy turned away from the Toyota, her eyes settling back on the road. “The worst part is, I bet he lives right around the corner. Not like he lives miles from civilization or something. Jackass.”
“So what do you think about Josh?” Cassie opened the folder and stared at the suspect list.
Izzy ran her fingers through her hair. “He’s really cute.”
“Really?” Cassie scowled at her.
Izzy grinned then frowned when Cassie didn’t return her enthusiasm. “All right, all right. I dated the guy a few times last year anyway and wasn’t impressed. What do I think about him being our killer?”
“Yes, that’s what I was getting at.”
“I say keep him on the list because of his dog training background, but honestly, the guy had trouble staring at the rare steak on my plate when we went out to dinner. Turned green when I told him about the scene of a car accident that hadn’t ended very nicely. He’s a pansy. No backbone.”
Cassie’s shoulders slumped. She hadn’t really thought it was Josh either, but despite his goodwill toward dogs there was part of her that wanted everyone they spoke with to be their guy. Blood phobia? Crap. “You think he could’ve been lying?”
“It’s hard to fake turning green. I would know.” Izzy shivered.
The one time they’d taken her on the boat, Izzy had turned shades of green Cassie hadn’t known existed. She was right. That was really hard to fake.
Izzy turned up the heat. “You think we’ll get the two feet of snow they’re calling for?”
“Virginia’s got over eighteen inches already, and it’s still coming down.” Cassie bit her lip. “You think Rick is right? That our guy will make a move tonight?”
“God, I hope not.” Izzy glanced over at her. “It kinda would make sense though. Every woman that’s gone missing was during some kind of storm. Except Tina Conner.”
“No, we were supposed to get one the morning she was killed, but it went just east of us, off the coast.”
“Huh. That’s right.” Izzy was quiet for a moment. “Eighteen inches. You think if we get that much anybody in their right mind would go out in it?”
“I would be surprised if they didn’t. That park has people at it no matter what the weather, even if there’s a psycho killer on the loose.” Cassie searched her purse and pulled out a chap stick. “Speaking of the snow, do you want me to pick you up tomorrow? I have four-wheel-drive.”
An elderly woman with a cane walked along the crosswalk. Izzy hit the brakes. “I’m not sure. I – aw shit!” Her car hit a patch of black ice. She spun the wheel, missed hitting the woman by a hair, and jumped the curb onto the sidewalk.
People scattered, a few cursed but went on their way, not bothering to stop their mad dash for supplies to make sure nobody was hurt.
Cassie hopped out of the car, Izzy right behind her. They rushed to the elderly woman’s side. “Are you okay?” Cassie asked.
The woman gave her a toothless grin. “What dear? I can’t hear ya, I forgot to put in my hearing aid.”
Izzy turned away and stifled a laugh in her coat sleeve.
Cassie smiled at the lady. No use letting her in on the fact she’d almost become road kill. She raised her voice. “I asked if you needed any help.”
“Oh, no. Thanks dear, but I do this walk everyday. Aren’t you two lovely to offer though.” She struggled up the curb and went on her way.
“Wow, that was close.” Izzy held a hand to her chest. “Could she see at all?”
&nbs
p; “Hmm,” Cassie said with a grin. “I don’t think so, since she was squinting at my boob like my nipple was talking to her.”
Izzy laughed. “Well, that could’ve been a really bad end to my day. Think I may take you up on that offer for a ride tomorrow, seems my tires are pretty worn.”
They slid back into the car and Izzy rolled off the curb. “Your dad and Sam still taking turns watching your house when you’re gone?”
“Please.” Cassie rolled her eyes. “I’m lucky both of ‘em aren’t sleeping by my bedside and following me into the shower. Even with the patrols Hank set up, I had to make a deal with my dad to call him and tell him when I’m on my way home everyday. If he or Sam can’t be there, he drops Snow off on my doorstep.”
“Cass, you really can’t blame them. That was freaking scary. He was at your house.”
“I know, and to be completely honest, I can’t sit still if no one’s there with me. When I’m actually able to sleep, I have my gun and my phone under my pillow. I’ll probably wind up blowing half my face off.”
Izzy smacked on her blinker. “Yeah, I do the same thing. Pretty crazy how this one guy has most of the county on edge.”
Sam said he’d be at her house tonight. She hoped he wouldn’t be sleeping already when she got home. She still hadn’t gotten the chance to really talk to him about what happened, to apologize for not being truthful. He’d been so pissed when she called to tell him why she’d pointed a gun at him during the storm. He wasn’t usually one to raise his voice, but he’d practically blown her eardrum when he’d bellowed into the phone. She had kept her mouth shut. If their roles had been reversed, she would’ve been the same way. He may have even gotten a good crack in the head for not being honest.
