Don't Look

by Alexandra Ivy

  Kir glanced around. They couldn’t poke around here. Even if he hadn’t managed to annoy Raymond Warren, the farmer had made it clear he wanted them to leave.

  Still, he wasn’t prepared to give up. He wanted to know who’d killed Sherry Higgins, and how the body had ended up in this field.

  Crimson blood stains the pure white snow.

  He pointed toward the distant line of trees. “I think I remember a road on the other side of this field. Is it still there?”

  She nodded, immediately understanding his desire to check it out. “We can cut through Raymond’s orchard to reach it.”

  They retraced their footsteps in silence, both moving with as much haste as possible, considering the frozen ground. Sherry’s body had been hauled away, but the memory of her violent end seemed to linger. Like an echo of evil.

  Kir climbed into Lynne’s truck. He never thought he’d feel sympathy for the abrasive Raymond Warren, but it was going to be horrible to walk past that spot every morning.

  Lynne started the truck and shoved it into four-wheel drive as she turned toward a narrow access path that ran between the barren apple trees. Kir’s lips briefly curled at the memory of sneaking through this orchard on a dare from a friend. In those days he would have done anything to experience an adrenaline rush. It was the only thing that drove away the fear his father would never escape his dark quagmire of misery.

  They bumped over the ice-coated path, winding their way up the hill and into the wooded area. Then, turning onto the main road that had recently been cleared of the snow, they traveled parallel to Raymond’s farm.

  “Can we stop?” Kir abruptly demanded, nodding toward the shallow shoulder. Without a word, she whipped the truck to the side and put it in park. “You can stay in here. It’s freezing,” he assured her.

  She snorted, switching off the engine. “I’m used to the cold. You’re the city boy,” she reminded him.

  “I’ll admit that it bothers me a lot more than it used to, but I have a feeling it has more to do with age than my current address,” he said in wry tones.

  Together they climbed out of the truck and walked along the edge of the road. They didn’t have to go far for Kir to find the tire tracks that were nearly concealed by the blowing snow.

  “There.” He glanced around, eerily aware of the heavy silence that shrouded the road. It wasn’t just that he was used to the hustle and bustle of a large city. This was the silence of an area that was rarely disturbed by humans. “Do you know who owns this property?”

  Lynne furrowed her brow as she glanced from one side of the road to the other.

  “I’m pretty sure it belongs to the conservation department.”

  Kir strolled to where the tracks were the deepest, as if someone had parked there for long enough to sink into the snow. Then, as he turned in the direction of Raymond Warren’s farm, his breath caught in his throat.

  There was an opening through the trees that looked like it’d once been a cattle crossing.

  “That’s the field,” Lynne said, moving until she was pressed against his side.

  If it hadn’t been below freezing, he might have hoped she was seeking comfort from being close to him. Instead he was fairly sure she was just trying to stay warm. “From this position it’s a clear path to where they found the body.”

  Lynne nodded. “So either the killer forced her to walk down there and murdered her, or she was already dead.”

  Kir tried to imagine what’d happened. The newsman had mentioned a slit throat, but they didn’t know where the woman had died. In addition, he had no idea if she’d been killed and dumped last night, or early this morning.

  Of course, they did have one clue, he abruptly recalled. “There’s another possibility.”

  “What?”

  “She could have been unconscious.”

  Lynne’s eyes widened as his words jogged her memory. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot Parker said something about a tranquilizer dart.”

  Kir parted his lips to ask Lynne if she had a relationship with the slick-talking Parker, but he hastily swallowed the words. It wasn’t any of his business. Even if he was starting to wish it was. Instead he kept the conversation focused on the reason they were standing in the frigid air.

  “He could have knocked her out at the office, then driven her here.”

  Lynne glanced back at the opening. “Yes. If it was me, I would have put her body on a tarp or a blanket and dragged her down the slope.”

  Kir leaned forward, studying the slope, which was steeper than he’d first realized. “It would be the easiest way,” he agreed, visualizing sliding the dead woman down the hill. Far more sensible than trying to carry her through the deep snow. “It would also mean a woman could be the killer.” A fierce wind managed to penetrate the trees, the shadows lengthening as a reminder that the afternoon was nearly at an end. He didn’t want Lynne driving the icy roads after dark. “Let’s go.”

  Dear Rudolf,

  What a glorious day. I wish you could have been here to witness my splendid achievement. It wasn’t ’t like the first time. Or even my second time. I wasn’t nervous. Or lost in my fury. No. I was calm. That’s the only way to truly savor my justice.

  Sherry hadn’t changed, Rudolf. She was just as revolting as ever. Ah, but she tried to hide it. She pretended to be confused when she saw me. Then she acted as if butter wouldn’t melt in her vile, nasty mouth. Like she could make me forget her sins.

  Then there was her fear.

  The magnificent fear that was so thick in the air it seeped into my skin. I can still smell it.

  My only regret is that I didn’t wait for her to wake. It would have been sheer perfection to watch the life draining from her eyes. The bitter old cow.

  But practice makes perfect. And I already have my plans in motion.

  Tonight, I’ll meet with my prey. She has no idea she has been selected to participate in my . . . Hmm. What should I call it, Rudolf? It’s not a game. Perhaps a quest. Yes, I like that. My quest for vengeance.

  She believes she’s meeting the man who she’s been chatting with online. People are so gullible. I put up a profile with the picture of some handsome jerk, and presto. She couldn’t wait to be lured away from her family.

  I’m going to take my time punishing her.

  I promise you, it will be epic as her crimson blood stains the pure white snow. Life spills from warm to frozen. Don’t look. The pain is gone.

  Randi with an i not a y parked her vehicle in the empty lot behind her flower shop. It was nearly ten o’clock, but no one would question seeing her flashy red car. Over the past few years Randi had discovered more and more reasons to linger at the shop. Anything was preferable to dealing with her daughter who’d gone from a precious baby to an obnoxious teenager, and her husband, who spent their time together bitching about the money she spent. As if it was her fault he’d stayed in his job at the paper mill instead of finding a position that could do more than pay the mortgage. If he thought she was going to live in squalor and wear clothes from a discount store, then he was even dumber than he looked.

  Switching off the motor, Randi shivered. The snow had started to fall, filling the night with swirls of white. Sometimes it felt as if she was being smothered. Not an avalanche, but a slow, relentless blanket of suffocating snow.

  She had nightmares about it.

  How had her life come to this?

  Once she’d been the most popular girl in Pike. She’d been dazzlingly pretty with her long, dark hair and big green eyes. And so sexy the boys would beg just to walk next to her in the hallway.

  She’d assumed her position as homecoming queen would last forever.

  Instead she’d married her high school sweetheart and had a baby before she’d even turned twenty. Since then her life had been on a downward skid straight to the gutter.

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t the gutter. It was worse.

  It was obscurity.

  Squaring her shoulders, Randi
climbed out of her car and scurried toward the back door of her shop. She’d deliberately chosen this location to meet her mystery man. She might be horny, but she wasn’t stupid. This was her territory, and not only did she have a security system, but she also had a loaded handgun in her office. If she got any hinky vibes, she was going to shoot first and ask questions later. She could always claim the stranger broke into the shop and she had to defend herself.

  Reaching the door, Randi experienced a flutter of excitement. Her mystery date had been fascinating when they’d chatted online. Charming, funny, and properly appreciative of her opinions. A man who knew how to make a woman feel special. She desperately hoped he was as good up close and personal as he was on the computer.

  “Please don’t let him be a loser,” she whispered, fumbling for her keys.

  At the same time, she felt a strange prick on the side of her neck. She reached up, grabbing the object protruding just above the collar of her coat.

  What was it?

  She tugged it loose, then held it toward the nearby security light. She frowned at the silver tube. Where had that come from?

  “Hello, Randi,” a voice drawled, but Randi didn’t turn her head to see who was standing next to her.

  She was mesmerized by the strange object she cradled in the palm of her hand. Besides, her neck felt rubbery. As if her head was suddenly too heavy. She swayed, struggling to stay upright.

  As her eyes began to dim, she caught sight of the snowflakes that had already coated her in a layer of white. A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat.

  Her nightmare was coming true.

  Damn the snow.

  * * *

  I settle in my seat and take a second to calm my heart. It’s beating so hard I can feel the pulse in my throat. It’s not from fear. It’s pure adrenaline.

  And it’s glorious.

  Sitting in a dark corner, I study the woman lying naked in the center of the room. Far over her head a fluorescent bulb spills out a harsh pool of light. It reveals the slender limbs that are artistically arranged and the glossy curls that frame her pale face like a dark halo.

  Most people would no doubt find her beautiful. Despite the years she’d managed to keep her trim body. And her youthful, girl-next-door features were discreetly maintained with layers of makeup. But all I see is a brittle veneer that disguises the ugliness below.

  Randi Decker is a vain, shallow bitch who has never cared about anyone but herself. She bullied her classmates throughout school, and I assume she continued the abuse with her employees at the flower shop. She nagged her husband and ignored her daughter.

  I smile, recalling how easy it’d been to lure Randi into my web. A few compliments in a chatroom and she was ready and eager for anything. She didn’t care that she was betraying her husband or that her daughter would be mortified if her cheating was exposed. Nothing mattered but her own pleasures.

  Some things never changed....

  No. I rise to my feet. I changed. I’m no longer a victim of fate. Now I control my destiny. Including those who once thought they were immune to justice.

  * * *

  Randi woke with a thick head and a coat of fuzz on her tongue. Ugh. Did she get tanked last night? It wouldn’t be the first time. Over the past couple of years she’d spent more and more evenings dulling the sharp edges of her life with a bottle of wine. Sometimes two.

  Still, she didn’t remember overindulging. In fact, she couldn’t remember anything at all. Pressing her fingers against her throbbing temples, Randi slowly sat up and forced open her heavy lids.

  The first thing she noticed was that she was naked. Completely and utterly naked. The realization sent shock-waves through her. She was never naked. Not unless she was in the shower. Her vanity couldn’t bear to reveal the stretch marks that marred her stomach or the droop of her once perky breasts. Even during sex she kept on her nightgown. Not that her husband noticed. He barely bothered to kiss her before he was shoved inside her and done.

  Her second realization was that she was freezing.

  Shivering, she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Then, with an effort, she forced herself to glance around. It was a wasted effort. Beyond the small circle of light there was nothing but darkness. A thick, blinding darkness.

  Was she in a basement?

  Yes. She had to be.

  Now the question was how she’d gotten there.

  Rocking back and forth, she searched her fuzzy brain. She didn’t have a basement at her house or even one at the shop....

  Shop. The thought of her flower store stirred her memory. Oh, shit. She’d been going there to meet her mystery man, hadn’t she? And then she’d felt a pain in her neck. A needle? Maybe a tranq dart?

  She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d been so certain that she held the upper hand. She’d planned for everything. Or at least that’s what she’d told herself.

  And now she was naked and alone and terrified out of her freaking mind.

  Bending her head, Randi did something she hadn’t done since she was five years old.

  She prayed.

  Chapter 5

  It was Friday, which meant Lynne was able to sleep in until six o’clock. One intern was covering the herd wellness checks, while she would take care of the morning appointments at her clinic, and her other intern would arrive at noon to deal with afternoon appointments. As a bonus, it was her weekend off.

  Usually she enjoyed a leisurely breakfast before heading to the clinic. This morning, however, she was just stepping out of the shower when the familiar sound of Parker Bowen’s voice echoed from the television.

  “Another day and another body has been discovered in Pike,” the newscaster announced, his smooth voice properly somber. “The authorities haven’t released a name, but the female was found on the banks of the Keokuk River near the campground. Like the previous victim, she was stripped of her clothes and a crimson ribbon was tied around her neck. The sheriff refused to speculate on whether the two crimes are connected, but she did reveal that both women had their throats slit. Once again, the authorities ask that anyone with information please contact the sheriff’s office. I will have more on this continuing story on the evening news.”

  Another body. Fear tightened Lynne’s stomach. Yesterday she’d first assumed that the poor female was a stranger who had the misfortune to be dumped near Pike. Then she’d discovered it was Sherry. This time she was bracing herself for the realization that the victim was from the area. And that it was quite likely someone she knew.

  How could this be happening? Pike was a sleepy, tranquil town where nothing ever happened. That’s what she loved about this place.

  And now the peace was shattered by two violent deaths.

  Was Kir’s suspicion right? Was there was a maniac out there hunting the women of Pike? And was he holding the list of women the killer was targeting?

  “God.” With a shudder, Lynne dressed and headed for the clinic. She was no longer in the mood for breakfast.

  For the next five hours there was thankfully no time to worry about the news report as she worked her way through the numerous appointments. She’d just finished giving a rabies shot to an overly enthusiastic Labrador when her receptionist stuck her head into the exam room.

  Chelsea Gallen was two years younger than Lynne with blond hair, and a short and full-figured body she emphasized with soft sweaters and narrow skirts. Her bubbly personality made her a favorite with the clients, which was why Lynne had hired her after her father’s receptionist had retired. Unfortunately, the younger woman wasn’t always dependable, more often than not showing up late or dashing out the door long before the day’s schedule was done. Still, Lynne tried to be patient. Chelsea was a single mother to a little girl. It couldn’t be easy for her.

  “The sheriff is here to see you,” Chelsea said, her expression curious.

  Lynne blinked in surprise. “Why?”

  “She didn’t say.”

&nb
sp; “Okay.” Lynne headed toward the sink at the back of the room. “Tell her I’ll be out as soon as I wash up.”

  Chelsea disappeared and Lynne heard the distant sound of voices. The sheriff had stopped by the clinic on a few occasions, usually when they’d located a dog roaming the streets and wanted to scan it for a chip. Today, Lynne doubted the local law enforcement were worried about strays.

  After scrubbing her hands with a brisk efficiency, Lynne pulled off her lab coat and smoothed back the hair that had come loose from her ponytail. It was ridiculous to feel uneasy, but she had a terrible premonition that the sheriff ’s visit was connected with the dead woman who had been found that morning. Perhaps she’d been a client. Or a friend.

  The thought made her stomach cramp with unease as she stepped out of the exam room and into the reception area. It was thankfully empty at the moment, except for Chelsea, who was standing next to the tall counter, and the current sheriff of Pike.

  Kathy Hancock was in her forties with dark hair that was roughly chopped at her shoulders and combed away from her square face. Her eyes hovered somewhere between gray and green and her skin was pale and dusted with freckles. She wasn’t fat, but she was solid and looked like she could hold her own in a fight. Probably a useful quality in an officer of the law.

  At the moment, she was wearing her brown sheriff uniform with a matching brown parka. Her expression was grim.

  “Sheriff,” Lynne murmured. She didn’t know Kathy in more than a professional capacity. The older woman was competent at her job, but she wasn’t the most social person. “Chelsea said you needed to see me. Is there a problem?”

  “I have a couple of questions.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard about the two women who have recently died?”

  “Yes.” Lynne braced herself for the bad news. “It’s been on television.”

  The sheriff reached into the pocket of her heavy brown parka. “What we haven’t released is that two dart cartridges were found at the scene where each woman was taken.” She pulled her hand out, revealing a plastic bag that contained two silver tubes with a hollow needle at one end and a plastic stopper with wings at the other end. “Do you recognize these?”