“Yes, we have the recording. Rainey, he was cold, almost pleasant, as if he were inviting me to an art gallery exhibit. He said he was giving us his ‘museum of serial murder’ and then rattled off GPS coordinates, but the location is in the Indian Ocean, off the coast of Perth, Australia.”
“Try the antipodal position,” Rainey said. “Send the position and the recording to my phone. We’re leaving my house now.”
“Antipodal? What’s that?” Sheila asked.
“The exact opposite place on the earth’s surface. North Carolina’s antipodal position is in the Indian Ocean, off the coast of Australia. Once you have the location, send out some covert surveillance teams first. This guy will be out there watching your arrival. Pay close attention to the vehicles that pass more than once. He may even stop to ask what’s going on. If you block one lane with emergency vehicles after you arrive, you can slow the cars down and get a good look. By the way, he won’t be driving the truck. His car will resemble a law enforcement vehicle, or a muscle car, something manly.”
“Okay, I’m about to get into the elevator,” Sheila said. “I’ll send you the correct coordinates when I get upstairs. Are you going to meet us there?”
“Yes,” Rainey said, arriving in the den, where Katie and the others were now gathered. “I just need to tell my family good night and then we’re on the road.”
“How do you know where to go?” Sheila asked.
“I’ll bet it’s within a few miles of where they found the first missing woman’s car. We’ll head that way.”
“That’s over by your old office, where the women’s shelter is, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and remember, there are no coincidences,” Rainey said, smiling at Katie playing with triplets. “Oh, and thanks for the video. I owe you one.”
“And I’m about to collect. See you in a few,” Sheila said.
Rainey turned to the colonel. “Let me talk to Katie a second, and then I’ll fill you in on the way.”
Katie noticed Rainey and came out into the hallway. After the colonel thanked her for the hospitality, he went to wait by the front door. Rainey took Katie across the hall to the formal living room they never used.
“Honey, I have to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Wake Gunny up after I leave. If her headache gets worse, you call Junior. Understand?”
Katie wrapped her arms around Rainey and hugged her tightly. “Don’t worry about us. You be safe.”
Rainey bent to kiss Katie’s lips, before smiling down at her. “I will. Call and check on Mackie for me, and you call if you need me, promise?”
“I promise. Now, go kiss your kids good night.” As Rainey passed, Katie popped her on the butt. “And don’t think you’re getting out of that conversation about Gunny’s weapon being in her car.”
“Technically, it wasn’t in the house,” Rainey said, skipping out of Katie’s reach.
Katie narrowed her eyes. “Technically, it was a deliberate attempt to circumvent the rules. Program her prints into the system, if you think she’ll need to get to her gun. I’d rather you do that than hide things from me.”
Rainey stopped moving and turned back to Katie. “Okay, you’re right, but I think we need a separate safe for people like Junior and Gunny. They do need to be able to reach their weapons in an emergency. So, call the safe company tomorrow and have one put in. Will that work for you?”
“Yes, and that is how adults handle conflict. Don’t sneak around, Rainey. That bothered me more than the gun in her car.”
Ooh, that hurt. Rainey hated to disappoint Katie. She tried for redemption. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” She silently vowed to remove the .38 from her office before she ended up on the couch.
#
“My best arabesque and no one is here to see it,” Bladen said, her foot in demi pointe on the wooden stake, her other leg stretched out behind her, trying desperately to balance and relieve the strain on her wrist. “All those years of ballet are paying off, Mom,” she said with a little laugh.
At least the dripping was not a problem this time. In his excitement to leave, her tormentor also forgot to turn on the music. To pass the time, Bladen played through childhood memories of tutus and nutcrackers, the annual holiday tradition of ballet and candy canes. She performed in “The Nutcracker” from age six to twelve, before she discovered running was more her passion. When Bladen declared at dinner one night that she was no longer interested in becoming the Sugarplum Fairy, she was sure her mother was secretly glad the days of afterschool dance class chauffeuring and endless recitals were over. Although she had not continued dance, Bladen’s heart still quickened when she heard Tchaikovsky at Christmastime.
She closed her eyes and began with the party scene, remembering how the period costumes smelled like dry cleaning and mothballs, and how she relished that smell each year. She recalled the excitement of the first time she was chosen to dance in the opening waltz. A shortage of boys forced her into knickers and a waistcoat, but she did not mind. Bladen was simply glad to have graduated from tiny winged fairy in the sugarplum scene. She relaxed her pose, putting pressure on her wrist, and relieving the stabbing pain in the ball of her foot. While her body hung suspended in the dark room, her mind took to the stage. Beneath a behemoth Christmas tree, “The Nutcracker Suite” began to play, and Bladen waltzed.
Chapter Ten
“Three years ago, about a month before the first woman went missing, the company developing this land declared bankruptcy. They cleared some of it, started landscaping, and paved a drive. It’s been tied up in court since then, but recently changed hands. Construction is scheduled to begin again next month. The search warrant is on the way, but we have verbal permission from the new owners to enter the property.”
Sheila huddled close to a small group of detectives from the task force, while she told what she knew about the property they were about to enter. She was no longer wearing heels, and looked prepared for a hike in the woods. Rainey stood by her as they waited for the chains on the large gate to be cut. Rainey had been right about the location; it was exactly where she said it would be, just off U.S. 501, south of Chapel Hill. The first missing woman’s car had been found less than two miles away. The area was heavily forested and about a half a mile from the western shoreline of Jordan Lake. Rainey’s old home was a little more than five miles to the south.
“The construction starting up again. That’s why he gave us his museum. He knew it would be exposed soon,” Rainey told Sheila. “That’s his stressor. He needed to manipulate and control its discovery.”
Wiley Trainer stood to her left, shining a flashlight on a map in his hand. He drawled out, “Looking at the satellite image, there’s quite a lot of forest to cover in there. Where should we start?”
Rainey looked at the map. “Before we let anyone in there, let’s drive this lane. I want to look at these areas here.” She pointed at several places. “See how these old paths through the woods come in from several directions? He didn’t come through this gate, but used these paths. You need to put patrol cars at these access points. I’m guessing we’ll find most of his victims pretty close to where these paths enter the property, at least the first ones.”
Wiley turned to the assemblage of patrol officers, standing a few feet away. “Y’all wait out here. We’re going to take a look and then come back to set up the grid search.” He then spoke to the young detective next to him, showing him the map. “Put patrol cars at each of these access points. Nobody in or out.”
While Wiley discussed sealing the area off with the detective, Sheila spoke to Rainey. “I’m worried about displacing evidence in the dark. Shouldn’t we wait until daylight?”
Rainey nodded in agreement. “I understand what you’re saying, but I think he dumped the last body in here months ago. He took Jacquie in September and he kept her body. Unless he grabbed someone we don’t know about, any evidence was washed away long ago. Still, we don’t want the search team crashing thro
ugh the site. Make sure the search is slow and deliberate.”
Flatbed trucks carrying high-powered outdoor lighting lined the narrow two-lane road running in front of the property, accompanied by large generators. Rainey could hear the police helicopters coming nearer. They were equipped with searchlights that could turn the night sky into day. The state medical examiner had been called in advance of finding the bodies, at Rainey’s suggestion. She was sure this was no hoax. The ME’s vans were arriving now, lining up behind the flatbeds. All traffic was being diverted through roadblocks surrounding the area. Rainey knew the killer was watching and she imagined he was enjoying the show.
She looked over at the colonel, who stood anxiously waiting by his car. Rainey understood that he needed to be involved, and also knew she could not let him see what was beyond the gate.
She tapped Wiley on the shoulder. “Hey, can you find someone to stay with Colonel Asher? He isn’t to come on the property under any circumstances, so you better make sure it’s someone that can handle him.”
Rainey and Sheila went to the SUV parked in front of the gate and climbed in. While they waited for Wiley to join them, Sheila said, “If there aren’t any bodies in here, I’m going to look really foolish.”
Rainey stared straight ahead, where the headlights illuminated what was to become a gated community much like her own. “No, the people feeling foolish will be the folks that just bought this land. No one is ever going to forget what was found here.”
“You’re that positive? How do you know?”
“I listened to the recorded call. Pure narcissism. He planned to reveal his body farm from the beginning. This is his artwork. He needs it to be appreciated, and not by some developer or local hiker stumbling on it by accident.” Rainey indicated the massive law enforcement presence with a sweep of her hand. “This spectacle he’s created is all part of the grand theatre in his mind.”
“So why play into that? Why didn’t we just come with a few cars and check it out on the down low?”
Sheila was really trying to understand how Rainey thought and why, after listening to the recorded call, she had recommended storming the location with lights and sirens blaring.
Rainey turned to face Sheila. “While he’s watching us, Bladen Asher has a chance of surviving. Keep him busy. That’s the only chance she has. The press will be here soon. I’ll make sure they see me. You make sure they have ample reason to stay live on the site, or at least continue breaking news. He won’t be able to stop watching.”
Sheila started nodding her head. “I get it. And while he’s watching us, we will be looking for him.”
“If I’m right about this guy,” Rainey said, “he will think he is so far out in front of us, there is no way we have a clue who he is.”
Sheila’s eyebrows rose. “We don’t, do we? We have a truck description, but that could turn out to be a dead end, just some college kid with a girlfriend in the apartment complex.”
Rainey grinned at Sheila. “A coincidence?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know—no coincidences,” Sheila said, with a chuckle.
“Brooks should have something on the truck for us soon. The UNSUB doesn’t know we have that picture or that we’re looking for his truck, and we should keep that advantage. We can’t tip him off. His behavior will become very unpredictable, if we do.”
Sheila nodded that she understood and informed Rainey, “I called Danny, told him of the search about to take place. He asked that you be on site and I assured him you would be. They were on the tarmac, about to take off.”
“Good,” Rainey said, “and if you could get the ME to hold off on moving the bodies, that would be even better. Let Danny and the team get a look at the scene first. They should be here in a couple of hours.”
“Are you going to stay on site, after they arrive?” Sheila asked.
Rainey looked out the window at the colonel. “I need to help that man find his daughter. The BAU can profile the UNSUB for the task force. I’ll get you started, but Danny will be the one leading this investigation.”
Sheila sighed. “I sure hope you’re right and that girl is still alive, though Lord knows what he’s done to her.”
Rainey saw Wiley approaching the colonel with a large uniformed officer. “If she’s half the young woman her father thinks she is, she’s fighting for her life. As long as she is a challenge to him, this UNSUB will keep her alive. The moment she gives up, she’s dead.”
“Unh, unh, unh,” Sheila said, shaking her head from side to side. “I used to think I wanted to know what you know about these sickos. After that body this morning, I am damned glad I don’t.”
Rainey turned back to Sheila. “I think you are about to get more education in sexual murderers than you could have imagined. When this is over and the nightmares come, you call me anytime, day or night. I’ve been there.”
Sheila had no time to respond, but the anticipated horror showed on her face, as Wiley climbed in behind the steering wheel. A video technician joined him on the front seat, camera already rolling.
As the tech swept the inside of the vehicle with the camera, recording all present, Wiley said, “Shall we, ladies?”
Not waiting for a reply, he put the SUV in gear and moved through the now open gates. The construction company had paved a road through the prospective neighborhood and cleared off a few home sites. A small lake had been created on the left of the entrance. When Rainey crossed through the gates, she closed the mental boxes she would not need or could not afford to have open at a crime scene. She opened the ones that allowed her to think like a killer. By studying their behavior, the FBI analyst had learned how these types of killers thought. Part of Rainey’s job had been to suspend her revulsion at their horrible acts and walk in the killer’s shoes.
She eyed the lake, as Wiley aimed a searchlight across the surface. “How deep is that water?”
Sheila pulled a printout of the architect’s plans for the community from her leather binder. Using her flashlight, she searched for the information. “It’s not on this drawing. Should I have someone check it out?”
“If this guy studied Schaefer, then there’s a good chance you’ll find some of the victims in there.”
Sheila got on the phone and called in the dive team. Before hanging up, she said, “Don’t touch anything. Just tell me if you find something.”
Beyond the lake, a sign indicated the foundation work behind it was to have been a large swimming pool and athletic complex. The helicopters arrived and joined in the search, sweeping their bright lights over the unfinished pool.
“If you were coming out here to look at the land, you’d probably drive around and stop to look at the only construction available,” Rainey said. “The UNSUB would know that. It’s worth a look, but I doubt he put any bodies there. He needed to be able to come visit them. He didn’t want them disturbed until he was ready. Again, control and manipulation of events are important to him.”
Wiley crept the vehicle along the paved road. Nightsun searchlights lit up the landscape around the SUV, as the choppers hovered over the area.
Rainey looked over the architect’s plans. She had a gut feeling, and leaned up to tap Wiley on the shoulder. “Go on down to the very end of the road and stop. I think that’s where we should start.”
Wiley sped up and the searchlights followed. When they arrived, everyone exited the vehicle and waited for Rainey to lead the way. She saw where an old one-lane path came out of the woods and started toward it. Once she reached where the path met the pavement, she stopped and looked around. She waved the others over to her.
“Wiley, do you still have that map on you?” Rainey shouted over the rotor blades chopping the air above them. They were far enough away not to disturb the crime scene with the blade wash, but the constant engine noise forced conversation to a higher decibel.
Wiley pulled the folded map from his back pocket and handed it to her. She held it out in the light from the helicopter. “You see this
?” Rainey pointed at a dark squiggly line that cut through the forest on her right. “It looks like a trail, but I think it’s a stream feeding into Jordan Lake. Let’s go back that way. Water draws these guys for some reason. If he knew about the paths, then he knew about the stream.”
They started into the woods, the searchlights illuminating the ground around them. Sheila walked beside Rainey. “So, you think he’s from around here?”
“Oh yeah,” Rainey said. “There’s no question about that. He’s close, probably drives U.S. 501 to work every day.”
The undergrowth was low and the foliage sparse in the dead of winter. The only bright color in the woods came from the evergreens. Copper-colored pine needles and prickly brown pinecones carpeted the forest floor. Broken limbs and old fallen trees littered the ground, but there appeared to be a worn trail toward the stream. They tromped a few more yards before coming on a small clearing and a valley where a dry streambed lay. There were no large trees in the depression, opening up the area to the sky above, where one of the searchlight beams poured through. Rainey grabbed Wiley’s arm, before he could take another step forward.
“Stop,” she shouted over the constant chop-chop-chop above.
Sheila, Wiley, and the cameraman froze in mid step. Rainey squatted on the ground, looking at the oblong bowl shaped depression.
She pointed up at the helicopter. “Call the search light off for a minute. I need to see what he sees.”
Wiley barked orders into his radio and seconds later they were plunged into darkness. After a moment to let her eyes adjust, Rainey began to scour the ground in front of her. There was no moonlight. The sky reflected the illuminated haze of the not too distant metropolitan areas, allowing only the brightest stars to shine through. Rainey clicked on her flashlight and held it close to the ground. She swept it over the bank closest to her and saw no anomalies.
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