It was the same argument he’d heard from her too many times to count. She considered herself a good judge of Willie Lee’s character because the man had worked on her family’s ranch in Comal County for the past fifteen years. A ranch she still owned now that her folks had passed, but she’d rented this place near Appaloosa Pass so she could be near Willie Lee while he recovered.
If he recovered, that is.
After all, the man had been in a coma for over a month.
“Willie Lee’s DNA was found at the scene of a woman he murdered,” he reminded her, though it was something she already knew. That DNA match had been confirmed shortly after he was caught. Since it was a verbal jab, Cord waited for her to get her usual jab back.
“It could have been planted, and you know it.”
Yes, he did. But there was the other match. “My own DNA is a familial match to Willie Lee’s. No one planted that. I had three labs repeat the test.” And each time Cord had hoped the results would be different. “How do you explain that?”
She huffed. “Willie Lee might be your father, but that still doesn’t mean he’s a killer.”
Again, it was an argument they’d already hashed and rehashed. “Willie Lee also matches the height and weight descriptions that witnesses of the Moonlight Strangler have given over the years.”
Many witnesses. Cord didn’t bother to remind her of that, too. She knew. She also knew none of those witnesses had gotten a look at his face.
But that didn’t explain who’d done this to her.
“Serial killers often develop a following,” Cord said, going for a different angle. One that might put an end to this conversation sooner rather than later. “Groupies. Has anyone like that contacted you? Maybe someone calling themselves a fan who wanted you to get a photo or some other personal item of Willie Lee’s?”
Karina shook her head after each of the questions and then winced. The paramedic moved quickly to examine her, and that’s when Cord noticed that she had another cut that her hair was covering.
“He clubbed me on the head.” Karina’s voice was trembling again. No doubt from the fear and adrenaline. None of her injuries appeared to be serious, but the memories would be with her for a lifetime.
“Start from the beginning,” Cord insisted. Because that hit on the head was a game changer. She couldn’t have done that to herself. “Tell me everything that happened.”
Karina flinched again when the paramedic dabbed at the head wound. “I woke up when I heard the horses. I thought maybe they were just spooked because it was a new place. I’d just moved them out here this week.”
Yes, he’d known about that. Karina was setting up a temporary operation here for training her cutting horses. Ironically, the name for that kind of trainer was a cutter. A sick joke now considering her injuries.
“I went outside to check on the horses,” Karina continued after she’d gathered her breath. “When I stepped into the barn, he hit me over the head. I didn’t even see him. Didn’t know he was there until it was too late.”
Cord jumped right on that. “But you could tell for sure that it was a man?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
Damn. He hoped that meant the guy hadn’t sexually assaulted her in some way. But if this piece of dirt had done that, it would definitely break from the MO of the Moonlight Strangler, who’d never sexually assaulted any of his victims.
“What happened next?” he persisted when she didn’t continue.
Karina closed her eyes a moment. Shuddered. “I screamed as I was falling, and he cut my face.” She reached to put her fingers there, but the paramedic moved them away.
It was the slice on her cheekbone. And the signature of the Moonlight Strangler.
Or rather the signature of his copycat.
“Did your attacker say anything to you?” Cord asked.
She swallowed hard. “He laughed and said, ‘This will show them.’ It wasn’t in a regular voice. He was whispering as if his throat was raspy.”
Perhaps just someone who wanted to clear Willie Lee’s name. Of course, to the best of his knowledge, there was still only one person who fell into that particular name-clearing category.
Karina herself.
Cord studied her injuries, trying to look at the pattern to see what they could tell him. Karina didn’t seem like the vain type, but he had a hard time believing that any woman would allow her face to be cut so she could try to prove someone’s innocence. If she’d set this up, she could have merely had the person hit her on the head and leave bruises on her neck.
Cord’s phone buzzed, and when he saw Jericho’s name on the screen, he answered it right away. “Did you send that ranch hand, Rocky, off to do something?” Jericho asked.
“No. Why?”
“Because he’s not here. The CSIs finally made it so I started looking for him to take him to the office, but he’s not in the house or bunkhouse.”
Hell. “You don’t think he went looking for the attacker?”
Jericho cursed, too. “If he did, I don’t need this now. If Karina has his number, try to call him.”
Cord assured him that he’d try, but he figured since she didn’t have her phone with her, there was little chance Karina would remember the ranch hand’s number.
But she surprised Cord when she rattled it off.
“I have a good memory,” she mumbled. A comment that snagged his attention because there seemed to be something else, something that she wasn’t saying.
Something that she remembered.
“What is it?” Cord asked, staring at her.
She didn’t get a chance to respond. Didn’t get a chance to explain, either. The driver hit his brakes, bringing the ambulance to a jarring stop.
“Draw your gun,” the driver told Cord.
Cord did. And he soon saw why they’d stopped and why the driver had given that order.
It certainly wasn’t what Cord had expected to see.
There. In the middle of the dark country road. A man. He was wearing a ski mask.
And he had a gun pointed right at them.
Copyright © 2016 by Delores Fossen
ISBN-13: 9781488005817
Suspicious Activities
Copyright © 2016 by Tyler Anne Snell
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Suspicious Activities Page 19
