The excavation had been going on for hours. So far, five skulls and multiple sets of bones had been collected. What bothered her was that these bones, all skeletonized, were old. As in there was no fresh body placed in the dump for at least ten years. Had the space filled up and the killer moved on? But if so, where to?
Or had he stopped killing. If so, why? Anto came to mind. Death was a hell of an excuse.
So far she'd found only young female skeletons. That didn't mean there weren't children or males in here though. Putting the bones together would be a fun puzzle. And that also meant that the jumble of bones that they had assembled from what they had thought of as Cia's remains, could in fact be from some of these skeletons. That might explained the missing bones. Of course animal activity would too.
"How are you holding up?" Chad walked with a thermos in his hand.
"Is that coffee? And if it is, how come you have some and I don't?"
"I'm sharing it with you." He smiled at her, but his gaze was searching as he studied her face.
"I'm fine," she said brusquely. "Or I will be when you catch this bastard."
He poured coffee into the thermos cup and held it out for her. "Working on it. Can tell if these victims died before or after Cia?"
She shook her head. "Given the level of decomposition, I can't tell here. I may never be able to tell you what you want to know with any level of accuracy. Within a couple of years it is difficult. If we can ID some of the women, find out when they went missing, we'll get some timeframe to work with. I doubt any of them have been here much longer than fifteen years, but I can't say for sure."
"Do you want to take a break and sit in the truck and warm up?"
Holding the thermos cup to her lips, she tried a sip of the hot brew. It slipped down her throat, easing some of the dryness that had set in the last few hours. "Thank you," she whispered, before taking another sip.
"You're welcome. Are you sure you don't need a break? There's food and drink coming for everyone. Should be here in minutes."
She brightened at the idea of food. "That would be good."
A shout beside her had her spinning around in time to watch yet another corner of the ledge collapse and slide down the slope. The team working below easily moved out in time, but the layer filled the space, forcing them to clear it away to get to the space below. A light rain had started meanwhile; so not what they needed right now.
"We need to hurry, it's degrading fast."
"I know." He nudged her toward the path. "A truck has just come in. That will have the food. Let's catch a few minutes. We're two too many up here as it is right now."
In that he was correct. With a wary eye on the unstable edge, she handed him the empty thermos cup before carefully making her way down to the ever widening path below.
A light flashed on in front of her. "Thanks."
"Hey, it's late and we're tired. Let's not have anything else happen."
She passed several other team members going up. One held a huge cookie in his hand. She eyed it hungrily. "Hope you left me some of those."
The tech laughed. "Only if you get there fast."
At the truck, there were was a circle of people standing and eating. Meg walked closer when a large hand landed on her shoulder and directed her to the picnic table that held a couple of open spots. "Sit. I'll grab food."
Too tired to argue, she sat down and gently massaged her shoulder. She stared out at the lake. The moonlight was playing tag with the gently rolling waves. It would have been beautiful, except for the surreal look to the campsite full of vehicles and white suited personnel.
They'd found a dump site. As depressing as that reality was, it was also hugely positive. Hopefully, they could identify these victims and bring them home to their families. That would make it all worthwhile. Then, hopefully they would find the killer through what he'd left behind...that thought made her want to rush back to the scene. They'd have yards of dirt and humus to sift through looking for small bones and evidence. Some they'd never recover. It just wasn't possible. But some of the evidence that they would find would surprise even the killer.
And that was the good part. She already knew a lot about him. He despised women; tossed them away like garbage after using them as he wanted to. He picked Caucasian young women between the ages of 16 and 26 and she might be able to narrow even that down in the lab. He was physically fit and likely middle aged at this point. But she wouldn't count on it. It seemed that the killers were getting younger and younger and this one had been killing for fifteen years already. It wasn't out of the range of possibility for their killer to be her age, give or take a few years. Most likely, he was too smart and, for him, people as a whole were a big joke. But he was stupid. Look where and how he'd left the bodies. Right above a popular camping spot and he hadn't even bothered doing a decent job of burying them. So far, they'd found blankets and plastic at the site. From the dirt on top he might even have collapsed part of the hill down on top of the bodies. He must have figured the bodies would never be found or if they were, who cared, it's not like the cops would ever find him.
Well, she sent a silent message out to the killer – you're wrong there. We will get you. And it'll be soon.
***
Chad, after making sure Meg was safely ensconced with food and drink, headed back to his truck. Mack hadn't shown up and he was pretty damn sure this wasn't his poker night. That he wasn't here said a lot. And Chad didn't like it at all. Daniel was on his way though.
He dialed Mack again. The phone went straight to voicemail. "Mack, where are you?" And he hung up the phone. Sure Mack could be anywhere, but anything to do with this case and missing people sent alarms up. No one was likely to attack a cop, but that didn't mean a cop wasn't part of the bad team. He paused. Was he actually thinking Mack'd had had something to do with this, either personally or by association? No, surely not? But then what would exclude him? He had a cabin on the lake. He had access to the files and could have doctored anything he wanted to at any time.
What about motivation? There was none. That was the problem. Many males were the right age group, healthy enough or strong enough to commit this type of crime, but they had to have a reason to do what they did.
Mack had no reason to be involved unless he was protecting someone; like his nephews.
Shit.
That wasn't enough to look at him as the killer. But it was enough to wonder if there wasn't a connection that needed to be looked at closer.
A call from the campsite caught his attention.
It was Meg.
***
Meg watched as Chad loped over. He raised a brow at her. "What's up?"
"They found something." She frowned up at him. "They want both of us up there."
"Let's go," he said immediately. "Let me grab a bottle of water to take up with me."
She nodded, polishing off the last of her apple. She picked up her garbage and tossed it onto the can and turned to climb back up the hill. At the base, she stopped and looked up. She glanced off to the hillside, thrown in darkness in comparison to the lit up area. She swore the trees were closer together, as if protectively watching over those they'd hidden for so long.
Stupid. But it made her feel better to think Mother Nature had been an active caretaker all these years. This was no longer just about Cia. It had become so much more.
As she stood waiting for Chad to join her, she realized that she was waiting partly because going up that hill one more time looked like too much effort. She dropped her head forward and massaged the back of her neck.
"Tired?"
"Of course." She smiled a little grimly at him. "Then, we all are. Let's get this done."
Once again at the path to the ledge, one of the techs called Chad over. "We've found another skull and a necklace."
"Shit. That makes six women."
"Seven," Meg corrected. "Cia."
He stopped and looked at her. "Do you still think it's her when we now have six
more young woman? We made the preliminary identification based on location, age at death, her approximate height, age…"
"And the necklace" added Meg. "Let's not forget that."
"That's actually the other reason why we called you up." Another tech, a woman this time, walked over and held up a bag. "This last victim had this on her."
The bag held a small silver necklace.
Meg gasped. "It's almost the same."
Chad took the bag and turned to hold it up to the light. He shifted it so he could see the small heart shaped piece on the choke. "It is the same. The question is..."
The tech spoke up, "It's got an inscription on it."
"Oh no," Meg whispered. "Please not."
Chad handed her the bag. "Hold it." He pulled on a pair of gloves then opened the bag. He poured the contents into his palm and held up the small heart-shaped piece.
His voice soft and deadly, he read, "To Mags, with love."
Meg cried out softly.
***
Anger like Chad hadn't felt in years flashed into existence at the pain he saw in Meg's eyes. There was no longer any doubt this nightmare had gotten so much bigger. But the impact on her...that, too, had grown proportionally larger and much more damaging. "It's not your fault," he said more harshly than he had intended, but even as he watched, her eyes in the early morning light appeared to be great big orbs of pain. Haunted by memories. Haunted by unanswered questions. Haunted by death.
Chad carefully poured the chain and its devastating message back into the evidence bag and handed it over to the tech. "Take good care of this."
"Not to worry," she said, "I'll put it with the others."
Meg still at his side, froze, her gasp hard and terrified.
"Others?" Chad put an arm around Meg's stiff shoulders, willing her to keep it together. He understood what she was going through.
"Yes, we've found four already."
"Exactly the same?"
"Yeah, they all appear to be."
Meg started shaking. The tech had returned to the section where she'd been working. With no one watching, Chad tugged Meg into his arms and hugged her tight and hard.
"Hold it together. If you want to be in on this, I need to know you can handle it – whatever 'it' may be."
She stiffened and stepped back. She nodded, her eyes still dark and haunted, but she took several deep breaths. "I'll be fine. Thanks for the reminder."
"I know more than anyone what this means. We need to know everything so we can nail the bastard."
Grim faced, she nodded. "I'm with you there. Let's fry his ass."
***
Interesting stuff… They'd found the dump site.
He pondered what difference that would make. Not even two hours drive from Seattle meant there were millions of people close enough to be considered suspects. None of the locals would be stupid enough to have a dump site in their back yard, so to speak.
He checked his cell phone yet again. Still no official news.
That was good. The longer they took, the better for him. Besides, they wouldn't find everything. He sat back in his truck and smiled at the thought of all those busy bees at work cleaning up his mess, trying to analyze his motives and sort out his victims.
Again, all these people should be happy – he had given them jobs and kept them employed. Kept their paychecks rolling in so they could get drunk on the weekends. He turned his attention to other factors. Stephanie. What should he do about her – if anything? Cia had told him Stephanie knew. But if she did, why hadn't she said something years ago?
And he hadn't stayed free all these years by being stupid. No, she'd have to go but not in the same way as his girls. He laughed, the sound reverberating inside the truck. She just needed to die – the same as she'd lived.
Pathetically.
CHAPTER 18
Finishing her part of the job wasn't fast or easy but by the time the early morning sun's rays were coming through the trees, Meg knew it was time to go home. She hadn't needed to stay as long as she had, but knowing that there could be more victims had kept her here, searching – just in case.
They'd found six new female victims – six women to bring home potentially giving six families closure. And Cia – if it was Cia. In her heart, Meg still believed it, but here were other victims to consider now.
The one thing she hadn't mentioned was in contrast to Cia's petite stature, two of the other victims were tall, easily over five foot eight and two others were close. That was directly opposite to Cia. Had that been on purpose? Or because there had been a lack of choice in victims or was it not a factor at all?
Seven victims, so far. How many more would they find before this was done? She stood at the edge of the ledge and stared toward where the highway curved above them through the trees. Techs and cops had been working, searching the highway area since the light had first broken through; so far, little else had been found. A woman's shoe, or what was left of it, and an old rotten blanket. Both had been bagged and tagged.
They might belong to victims or killer. Or to no one.
They really were in a guessing game.
Chad stepped up beside her again. He'd been the Saint Bernard of watchdogs this night, always seeming to be there just in case he was needed. She didn't remember him being so solicitous but then again, look at the situation.
The sense of being looked after was new and different. She'd been with Pete for years, but she couldn't remember such concern. Maybe it was because she'd always been so independent before, boldly tearing around corners of the world that most people wouldn't dare tread and doing a job most people wouldn't want anything to do with. She'd come and gone and had known Pete would be there when she got back. He was always happy to see her on her return, but there wasn't that same concern that Chad had shown her these last few days.
Then she'd been knocked off her emotional feet a while ago. Maybe she looked like she needed looking after now.
Also...she kind of liked it.
"Home time," he said, a weary smile on his face. "We'll get you back so you can sleep. The remains will be waiting for you in the morning." He gave a short laugh. "Make that tomorrow morning."
Good. She nodded, and too tired to speak, helped collect the gear she'd used to take down for the last time. Still, she didn't want him leaving if it was just to take her home. She could grab a nap in the truck if that was the case. Better they do what needed to be done then leave. "Are you done here?" she asked. "Because if not, I can grab a couple of hours in the truck and save you the long drive back again."
"Not happening. I'll be back tomorrow and likely the next day. We have doors to knock on for starters." He motioned around her. "But we have men on it."
"Right. Surely the neighbors would have to have seen or heard something." She stumbled over a tree root and would have sprawled face first but for Chad's restraining arm. "Thanks."
"Easy on this next bit." He explained, "We've done so much climbing, we've packed the area down but that's brought the roots up."
"I'd like to do a trip through here later when I can see better." She gave a wan smile. "And when I'm not so tired."
"That's possible. First, some rest."
"Amen to that." With him supporting her, he led her to the truck, then unloaded her armful to pack into the back. "I have to go and speak with the others. Get in. I'll be just a minute."
She nodded and struggled into the cab. It was just as cold inside, but just being this much closer to going home helped.
Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and let some of the stress roll off her shoulders. Even though she'd seen similar scenes before, they never failed to hit her hard.
Those poor women and poor Cia. She'd never had a chance.
At the same time, the likelihood of the killer being one of her old friends was minimal – until you factored in the necklaces. Necklaces she'd been trying hard to forget. The implications were too horrific, too nasty to let sit quietly in her psyche.
She'd been involved in lots of serial killings and knew that most of the killers had personal issues with one of the victims, usually the first one. Whether the victim was a stand in for someone they couldn't kill or was the real target of the killer's rage, it was personal, and usually about an emotionally charged relationship.
Her eyes drifted closed. Maybe after a nap, she could convince Chad to take her right to the labs. By the time they reached Seattle, Stacy was likely to be starting her day. Meg would help. This was no longer a simple job.
She sighed heavily and let the drowsiness take her deeper.
Her last thought as she went under was that not many people had used her nickname Mags. She'd been Margaret in school and only Mags to her close friends in school. There were few who came in that category. But it was someone from way back then.
Someone who had hated her.
Someone who had killed her by proxy…over and over again.
Seven times over.
***
Chad walked back to the truck with John, one of the other team members, at his side talking. "We need to take another load back. Maybe you should drive one of the vans and let the doc drive the truck."
"I'll ask. I know she's pretty tired though."
"Yeah, it's been a long night for all of us."
"And we're not done."
John snorted.
"We could be at this for days." He spun around to look back at the site. "Just look at that place."
Chad turned around to stare at the stripped hillside crawling with workers. "I know, depressing."
"And in a way, smart."
"Why's that?"
"It's dangerous enough to keep people away. Animals have been at the bones, but not in a big way. He's used something to cover up the smell somewhat, but nothing hides the smell of decomposing bodies. It's high up, so the smell didn't stay down low. Up there the breeze is more likely to take the odors upwind. Accessible from the highway above and yet still walkable from below, if he had wanted access."
The tone was normal but the admiration made Chad's stomach heave. He searched John's face carefully. In this game, the killer could be anyone. And given that killers often returned to the scene of the crime and could be found in all sectors of life, law enforcement had had their share of bad eggs, too.
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