by D. K. Hood
Attempting to keep her own professional persona, though the horror of what lay a few feet before her had shaken her to the core, Jenna nodded. “Okay, but if you want to find the other burial site, we will need to keep track of the time. It’s not safe traveling these trails after dark and those graves will still be here in the morning. Tell Kane and Rowley how you want the grid set up. I have rolls of tape, string, and bright orange flags in my backpack.” She gave the backpack a kick with her toe. “I’ll take the photographs.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Wolfe turned away and spoke to Rowley.
“The locket belongs to a girl named Jodie King.” Kane pressed an evidence bag into her hands then held up his cellphone to show her a picture. “She is wearing it in this image and it’s inscribed on the back: To Jodie, love Mom and Dad.” He cleared his throat. “She went missing eight years ago.”
Within fifteen or so minutes, she had the photographs and her deputies had the grid set up. Jenna stood to one side with Rowley watching Wolfe and Kane move from one grid to the other. She had attended grave excavations before but not on this scale and found she had a morbid fascination in the way Wolfe worked. Using a small trowel and a brush, he removed fallen leaves and other debris from each grave, made notes, measured any bones lying on the surface, and ran a commentary into a small recording device. She checked her watch and another hour had flown by in an instant. By the time Wolfe and Kane had flagged three graves, the sun had slipped low in the sky.
To her relief, Wolfe stood and walked carefully from the crime scene with Kane at his heels. She waited for them to remove their coveralls and gloves then walked toward them. “Do you have a preliminary report?”
“Three shallow graves, three skulls are visible, two show no signs of trauma, and one shows indication of blunt force trauma. From the bones scattered over the general area, there is evidence of animal intervention, but there are also the same injuries I found on Jane Stickler. Untreated broken bones, which would indicate the killers kept at least two of these children for some time, at least six weeks after the injury.” Wolfe let out a long, weary sigh. “This site is going to take some time to excavate. It may be months before we discover the identity of these kids.”
Anger reared at hearing about the atrocities the kids had suffered, but she pushed down the rage welling inside her. I have to find the men who did this. “Contact Helena and ask them to assist our investigation.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jodie King’s locket weighed heavy in her hand. She lifted her gaze to Kane. “How did the vigilante know about this place?” Jenna stared at the dirt-smeared locket, her mind racing. “She must have been involved somehow. I wonder if one of the men kidnapped her. From what we know about Lizzy Harper’s father, he took her to a fishing cabin up here somewhere—she could have witnessed Jodie’s murder and overheard where they planned to bury her body.”
“Do you think we have found our vigilante, ma’am?” Rowley’s dark eyebrows raised. “I mean, do you think Lizzy Harper is our killer?”
“Everything points to her being involved.”
“She is on the top of my list but maybe she only witnessed one of these kids’ murders.” Kane rubbed his chin, his face pensive. “The timeline doesn’t fit for Jodie, but then we don’t know how long Lizzy’s father abused her or how long they kept Jodie alive before they killed her. Lizzy won’t give us any information.”
“With what we have so far, I might be able to convince the DA to issue an arrest warrant. If not, I’ll organize surveillance.” Jenna bent and pulled an evidence bag from her backpack, labeled it Jodie King, then dropped the smaller bag inside. “If it is her, I don’t want any more murders on my watch.”
“If we could find the rest of the ring, we might be able to stop the vigilante before she strikes again.” Kane rubbed the back of his neck and gave a weary sigh. “If we had one single connection to link our murder victims we might have a chance.”
“They can’t be far away if the vigilante is stalking them in Black Rock Falls. The cabins are the common denominator in all these cases and all are located in Stanton Forest.” Jenna chewed on her bottom lip. “What other clues do we have, Kane? We found two girls in cabins in the mountains. Lizzy Harper told you her father took her fishing and they stayed in a cabin at the top of Black Rock Falls.” She waved a hand around, encompassing the area. “The fishing cabins are walking distance from here. I’m convinced they have a hideout close by.” She stared at the failing light. “Dammit, we need more time.”
“If we go straight to Old Corkey’s cabin and check it out, we’ll have time to ride up to the fishing cabins and take a look. It’s not that far out of our way.” Kane raised one black eyebrow in question at Rowley.
“Ten minutes, I guess.” Rowley pulled the GPS out of his pack and scanned the screen. “Maybe a lot less as we’re riding. Old Corkey’s is in that direction.” He pointed into the forest. “The fishing cabins are above us and to the right. I’ll scout around for a trail.” He headed for his horse.
As usual, she could depend on Rowley’s local knowledge. She shot a glance at Wolfe. “Did you contact the Helena forensics team?”
“Yes, ma’am. They’ll be able to pick us up from the Black Rock Falls Hospital helipad at seven in the morning and bring us back here.” Wolfe waved a hand toward the gravesite. “I have covered all the remains. The crime scene should be fine overnight. There is nothing of interest for any wildlife.”
When Rowley rode up moments later, Jenna walked to meet him. “Find a trail?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s not five minutes away. We would have spotted it but it’s hidden by the trees.”
Jenna gathered up her belongings then straightened and stared at her deputies. “What are you all waiting for? Grab the gear. I want to arrive at the fishing cabins before dark.”
They followed Rowley’s lead and soon a dilapidated cabin came into sight. Jenna scanned the area. “It looks like it’s abandoned.”
“No doubt.” Kane had dismounted and was following Wolfe to the front door. “We’ll take a look, ma’am.” He turned to Duke. “Stay, boy.”
Jenna waited for a few moments, watching the door expectantly. Wolfe came out first, removing his surgical gloves, then Kane shut the door and walked toward her. “We have bodies wrapped in plastic under the floorboards, but from the dust, no one has been here for some time.”
“I’ll have to come back in the morning with lights—its pitch-dark in there.” Wolfe’s brow creased into a frown. “From what I can see, there are three bodies. I’m going to need help. The two experts Helena are sending with the chopper will not be enough. It may take a day or so to organize; we are talking about two different teams and equipment. This can’t be rushed.”
“Pull in anyone you need.” She glanced at her watch. “I doubt anyone will disturbed them overnight. We should move out or we won’t have time to check the fishing cabins.”
Six bodies. Could these be the missing girls in the newspapers? Jenna swallowed hard and turned her horse back up the mountain.
49
Warm blood soaked her shirt and trickled down the front of her jeans. She stared at the knife, sticky against her palm. It had taken seconds to kill him and yet the room already stank of death. At her feet, the last twitches of life left Chris Jenkins’ body. He lay sprawled on his back, a fixed startled expression on his face. She bent over him and stared into his eyes. “See what you made me do?”
A stark clarity of mind engulfed her, removing the emotion and hate she felt for the monster. Once she had killed him, the gnawing rage melted away like ice in the sun and left behind a warm glow of contentment. She straightened and peered around the room, trying to retrace her steps. The sheriff would search the cabin and she must make sure she left no hint of her existence behind, not one hair or fingerprint. She found a bucket close by and removed her clothes then pushed them into the bucket. A threadbare towel hung over the edge of the sink and she wrapped it around on
e hand to turn on the faucet. The pipes made a gurgling sound and discolored water ran into the basin. She washed using the sliver of soap someone had left behind, but without a mirror, she had no idea if any blood remained on her face. After scanning the floor, she wet the towel and rubbed it over her footprints then let the water run for some time to make sure no trace of blood remained in the trap. She turned off the faucet, dropped the towel in the bucket, then dressed in clean clothes from her backpack.
After wiping down the chair with the monster’s T-shirt, she added the bottle of drink to the bucket. She took one last look around the cabin, pulled her cap down low on her head, and pushed on her sunglasses; with her backpack over one shoulder, she picked up the bucket then headed for the door. She used the T-shirt to turn the knob, dropped it on the floor, and elbowed the door open. The moment she stepped outside, she stared into the startled face of a young girl pushing a bicycle. She let the door swing shut behind her and waved the girl away. “Run! The man in there has a knife, he tried to kill me.”
Concerned she might be identified, she brushed past the terrified girl and grabbed her own bicycle, but before she had mounted, the girl came flying by, pedaling fast. After riding to the end of the trail, she stared both ways and saw the girl heading in the opposite direction to where she had left her car. Goosebumps rose on her skin as a wave of apprehension washed over her. The girl was heading in the same direction as Bobby-Joe had driven. There was nothing at the end of the road as far as she was aware and perhaps by now he had turned around and headed home. The idea of him being so close nagged at her. Why is he in the forest? Did the monsters plan to meet two girls today?
To her relief, the girl turned left, taking a hidden path away from the main trail, and the forest swallowed her. Many animal paths weaved throughout Stanton Forest and she probably knew of a shortcut back to the main road. Turning in the other direction, she pedaled hard, glad to find the small clearing where she had left her car. Once she had stowed the bicycle and the bucket under the tarpaulin in the trunk of her car, it took her a few moments to remove her baseball cap and brush out her hair. She checked her face in the mirror, added some lipstick then headed back to town.
The heavy weight she had carried for so long was finally getting lighter. One to go.
50
Bobby-Joe had waited for thirty minutes and was getting restless. She should be arriving soon and he wanted to be waiting for her at the cabin. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his truck then decided to pay Chris a visit. If he walked in on him and his honey, so what? He picked up a bottle of drugged soda then slipped from the seat and depressed the key fob to lock the doors. After taking a quick look around just to make sure no one lurked in the shadows, he strolled toward the cabin. As he turned the bend, he noticed a white sedan moving away at speed in the distance. He cursed under his breath; if Chris had invited anyone else to the party without telling him, there would be hell to pay. I’m running this show, not you, asshole.
Movement caught his eye in the dense forest and over the birdsong came the distinct sound of crying. He turned slowly, peering in all directions. “Hello, is someone there?”
“M-me, I’m here.” A girl pushed out the bushes, tears streaming down her face. “You didn’t c-come from the cabin, did you?”
Bobby-Joe stared at her in disbelief. Oh, this is my lucky day. “Me? No, I parked my truck some ways up the road.” He indicated behind him with his thumb. “My dog jumped out the back and headed this way, I’ve been lookin’ for him. Have you seen a brown dog come by?”
“No.” The girl rubbed at her eyes.
“What happened to you?” Bobby-Joe kept his distance, not wanting to spook her. “It’s not safe for young girls to be walkin’ alone in the forest.”
“I came to meet someone at the cabin.” She sniffed and her tear-filled eyes moved over him. “I met a girl back there near the cabin. She said there was a bad man in there with a knife, so I ran away but then I fell off my bicycle. The wheel is all bent out of shape.”
Bobby-Joe frowned, wondering what the hell Chris was doing. At least Chris had an advantage over him right now. The upset girl could identify him but Chris would have been wearing his clown mask. He had his hanging out of his back pocket. He sighed. Too late now. It looks like this one is coming home to stay.
His mind ran through a few scenarios of what to do with her. She was scared and he had to appear to be a safe option. All he had to do was persuade her to get into his truck. “Oh, there are some nasty men around. Like I said, it’s not safe in the forest. I guess I had better look for my dog in the other direction. I don’t like the idea of being stabbed today by some lunatic.” He made to turn away then stopped and looked at her. “Do you want to walk with me?”
“Okay.” She followed him. “What’s your dog’s name?”
“Deefer.”
“That’s a stupid name.” She wiped her nose on a tissue then coughed.
Bobby-Joe thought all his birthdays had come at once. He figured she was the girl he had groomed for months, but now Chris had spooked her, and any chance of convincing her he was the man she planned to meet would be a waste of time. She would connect him to the maniac in the cabin. He would have to play it cool and held out the bottle of soda. “Wanna drink? I haven’t opened it yet so it hasn’t got cooties.”
“Thanks, I’m very thirsty.” She removed the top and took a long drink. “It will be dark soon. Is there a trail out of the forest up this way?” She held the bottle out to him.
Bobby-Joe shook his head. “Nope, and you have the drink. I have more in my truck.”
“How am I going to get home?” She drank again then looked up at him. “I’ll get lost out here and I might run into the man with the knife.”
“You might.”
“Will you help me?” She moved closer and grabbed his arm. “Please?”
Excitement rushed through him. She had walked straight into his arms. He could not believe his luck. His truck was a few yards away. The drugs would kick in soon enough and she would be his. He smiled at her and held out his hand. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, darlin’. I’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you but what about your dog?” Her eyes had become wide and innocent.
He swallowed hard and forced his body to relax. Be nice, she is on the hook. “I’m sure he can look after himself. Getting you home is more important.”
“Maybe I can come back here tomorrow and help you look for him?”
Bobby-Joe bit back a grin of triumph. “I’d like that.” He waved a hand toward his vehicle. “My truck is over there. I’ll drive you home.”
When she took his hand and smiled at him, a rush of euphoria swept over him. This one he would keep forever.
51
Wednesday, week two
The following morning, Kane sat in his cubicle and stared at the case files, wondering if he had lost his edge. The killer had eluded him and the men involved in the pedophile ring seemed to move through life like ghosts. Every step into the investigation he took, he came up with dead ends. He agreed with Jenna and considered Lizzy Harper to be the prime suspect for the vigilante. Although a woman small in stature, she was in good shape from the heavy workload she endured as a cleaner. Lizzy Harper had murdered her father, so there could be no question of her having the guts to kill, and they had the tie-in with the fishing cabins. He ran through the transcript of her interview for the third time. Yes, she hated men, but she seemed to him to be angry with everyone. If she was the vigilante, what was her motive? She had already killed the man who molested her.
The only explanation he could contemplate was that her father exposed her to the men in the pedophile ring. Although, they found no signs of anything unusual in the old fishing cabins—no cellars or anything significant enough to believe a group of pedophiles had used them—but after so many years, anything was possible. He doubted Lizzy would identify the cabin where her father molested her now, because duri
ng the court case, she had had the opportunity to implicate other men but had remained silent. Yet he had proof another man was involved. Lizzy’s son was not the product of incest. Who is the kid’s father? He checked his email inbox again, hoping to see the DNA results on the vigilante’s two victims. If there was a match to Lizzy’s son, then they had motive to bring her in for questioning.
His fingers itched to call Wolfe but Jenna had sent him with Webber to the gravesites with the Helena forensics team. With a killer on the loose, she had insisted he and Rowley remain at the office following up leads. He scrolled through the contacts on his cellphone, found the number of the pathology laboratory Wolfe used, and called them. He gave the required information and waited, and waited. Ten or so minutes later, the laboratory technician came back on the line.
“I’ll send the results through to the Black Rock Falls ME’s office now.”
Annoyance rippled up Kane’s spine. “Include the Black Rock Falls Sheriff’s Department in that email. I need that information yesterday and the ME is somewhere on the top of the mountain.”
“Sure, sending it now.”
Kane stared at his computer screen and refreshed his inbox three times before the email came in with attachments. He opened the file and bit back a whoop of excitement. At last, the evidence they needed. Amos Price was the father of Lizzy Harper’s son. He pushed to his feet and grabbed Rowley by the shoulder. “With me.”
“We have a breakthrough in the vigilante case.”
When Jenna lifted her gaze to him, he grinned. “We have enough evidence for an arrest warrant for Lizzy Harper. The DNA results came in and Amos Price is the father of her son. This proves he was involved, so we have motive. She was in the area at the time of the murder and has a key to the house where Alison Saunders found his body.”
