NightScream

by Morgan Hannah MacDonald

  He looked at Jilly. “We’ll keep you apprised of any new developments. I want to thank you all for joining us, especially those from the night shift coming in on your own time. That’s all from me.” Then he looked over at Bud. “Sheriff, did you have anything to add?”

  “Nope. I think that about covers it.” Bud focused on the room. “You’re dismissed.”

  Cody turned to Jilly. “Mind if I borrow a computer to start looking up missing persons?”

  “You can use the desk across from mine. Noah had to leave town on a family emergency.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m going to grab another cup of coffee. The break room’s back here if you need anything.”

  He followed her and snagged a chocolate donut with nuts from an open box. Although his coffee had gone cold, he still had half a cup left so he nuked it while Jilly filled a mug.

  “The ME’s report should be back now. I’ll check my email when I get to my desk,” she said.

  He’d just taken a huge bite of his donut, so he nodded and murmured, “Mmm.” Once he’d finished chewing, he said, “I’d like to go back about ten years and check the missing persons reports for here and the surrounding mountain towns, then Victorville, Hesperia, Redlands, and San Bernardino.”

  Cody watched Jilly pick up a buttermilk donut on her way out the door. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Walking behind her, he said, “I’ll have Robin search the surrounding states. If this guy stays true to form, we’re looking for white females between the ages of twenty and thirty-five.”

  Jilly set her mug and half-eaten donut on her desk before she settled into her desk chair. “I have a feeling that won’t be a short list.”

  “Probably not, but it’s a start. We can’t narrow it down by hair color, but the women’s tresses were long. So we can delete women with short hair.”

  “I’d say that’s about two percent,” she said, staring at her computer screen.

  “I’m sure you’re right. We need to study these files further and see what these women had in common. Where’s the copy machine?”

  She looked up from her computer. “Ask Marge to help you out.” She pointed to the older woman at the front desk. “That thing is finicky, but she has the knack. We’ve needed a new one for years.”

  “Got it.” Cody snatched the paperwork he’d printed from his computer the night before and went over to introduce himself to Marge. She had a take-charge attitude. He could tell she was the one who really ran the place. A good person to know.

  Jilly watched him walk away. She couldn’t help herself. It had been hard to focus whenever he was near. She actually had to concentrate twice as hard on the task at hand. She’d better get over it fast, or she’d just keep making an ass out of herself and a killer could go free.

  She heard Marge laugh and it was all she could do not to turn her head.

  Dammit.

  She opened her email and found the file from the Medical Examiner’s office and began to read. He’d only autopsied one DB so far. His note to her said she appeared to be the last victim and he thought it would be the best place to start.

  She was sixty-five inches long, so she was five foot five inches tall. Natural blonde hair, twenty two inches in length, eyes blue. Previous compound fracture of the left leg.

  When trying to identify her, that tidbit might help. Her lungs were full of water. “Crap.”

  Jilly heard Marge coming into the room giggling like a schoolgirl. She was staring up at Cody like he was some Greek god or something.

  “Spare me,” Jilly muttered under her breath.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say, Deputy Reid?” Cody said, sarcastically.

  Jilly tore her eyes away from her computer screen as if she’d been too engrossed in her work to know he was even there.

  “I was reading the autopsy report of the last vic. The COD was drowning.”

  The smile dropped from his face.

  “That bastard chained her to a cinderblock while she was still alive and tossed her over the side of his boat?”

  “Oh, my.” Marge’s hand flew to her mouth.

  Cody wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  “Looks like it,” Jilly said.

  “I’m sorry, Marge.” He started rubbing her arm with his hand like he was trying to warm her up. “I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth while you were standing there. Please forgive me.”

  The sixty-two year old grandmother gazed up at Cody and smiled. “That’s all right.” She patted his hand. “It’s your job. I’ll get out of your way so you can get to it.”

  Cody squeezed her. “Marge, you’re a peach.”

  The woman giggled as she walked away.

  Jilly rolled her eyes at Cody. Oh, please. If the shit gets any deeper in here I’m going to need higher boots.

  “What?” Cody said.

  “Cut the crap, we have a killer to catch,” Jilly grumbled.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Marge is a sweetheart. She offered to fix me a home-cooked meal. That’s more than I can say for you.”

  “Damn straight. You’re lucky I’m being civil at all since you horned in on my case.”

  “You’re right. I’m just a guest here.” He put his hand over his heart dramatically. “I do apologize for overstepping my bounds. Since you’re lead on this investigation, what would you like me to do now?”

  Jilly squinted at him. There were so many ways he pissed her off, but his sarcasm was at the top of the list. “Fine. Go through those files and see what the girls had in common.”

  He tossed a stack of papers her way before he took his seat. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Cody called Robin regarding the missing persons reports for the neighboring states, then got to work studying the files she’d sent the night before. He had to find a way to narrow down the list. He already knew everything there was to know about Mary Ellen, so he simply kept her stats in mind.

  He scanned the files first for height, but that was a dead end. The women ranged from five foot two to five foot nine. Eye and hair color was all over the place. He looked at the hodgepodge of jobs.

  Registered nurse, waitress, kindergarten teacher, Pilates instructor, fly fishing guide, florist, retail manager, travel agent. What did they all have in common? Then it hit him.

  They all dealt with the public.

  He wrote that down.

  Okay, that’s two; they had long hair and had positions where they were in contact with strangers. Except for the law clerk. Perhaps the UNSUB met her when he visited his lawyer. Cody made a note to follow up and find out the name of the lawyer she worked for so he could get a client list.

  Then he cross-referenced where they lived with where their bodies were found. The guy was all over the map. He had Idaho, Washington, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, and Oregon. He flipped through the pages and decided he needed more space.

  He collected everything and retired to the conference room. It was quiet in there and the table afforded a larger area to spread out. He read all the files again, then went back to his note pad.

  All the bodies were buried in wooded areas far from the populace. He scribbled a note. Why dump a body in the wilderness, but not bury it deep enough to make sure it’s not found? Next to that he wrote. Animals? No, if he wanted the animals to scramble the evidence, he wouldn’t have buried them at all.

  What the hell was this guy thinking?

  There were no signs of a struggle, so the women either felt safe or knew the person well enough to let him get close. Who would that be? Someone impersonating a police officer? Someone wounded who needed help?

  Whoever it was didn’t appear to be a threat. As soon as the UNSUB was near, he was able to overpower them before they had a chance to run, fight, or scream. Okay, one was on her bicycle, one walking home, one had car trouble on the highway.

  Roofies were out. That left chloroform, taser, or a shot of some drug that would work fast to incapacitate th
em. Both a taser and a hypodermic needle would leave a mark, but he’d found no such notation in the autopsy reports.

  He turned around and stared at the wall.

  “What am I missing?”

  ELEVEN

  “Crap. Not again. Is nowhere safe?” Meagan couldn’t believe her luck. Just five months ago she was fighting for her life with the Sandman and now there was another serial killer on the loose in the same town as her. Had she become a magnet for psychos?

  “Babe, you’ll be fine. It’s not like this one is after you. Besides, Cody says it looks like the killer may have moved on. The bodies had been in the water for some time. I just don’t want to take any chances with the girls,” Thomas said.

  “No. You’re right. But seriously, what are the odds of another serial killer in the same vicinity as me?”

  He chuckled. “Better than you’d think. There are roughly fifty serial killers working in the United States on any given day.”

  She gasped. “That makes me feel soooooo much better.”

  Thomas strode over and took her hand. “Come on, let’s feed you and get out of here. We have trails to forge.”

  “This vacation is not exactly going the way I’d planned.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I know and I’m sorry. But it’s a beautiful day. Once you get out there and breathe that clean, crisp, pine-scented air and get a load of the gorgeous views, you’ll forget all about serial killers and the drama with your sister.”

  She gazed up at him. “You promise?”

  He grinned at her. “No.”

  She hip bumped him. “Thanks.”

  Thomas’s cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. He glanced at the screen before answering. It was his partner, Fawn Shadowhawk Quinn.

  “Hey, what have you found out?”

  “It’s not good. This guy has a few domestics and a statutory rape on record, but the charges were dropped in all cases. He also has a sealed juvenile file.”

  Thomas looked at Meagan’s inquisitive face. “Can you get Johnson to break into that file?”

  “No sweat, she’s sweet on me.”

  Shadowhawk was recently single after she’d found her partner, Maria, screwing around with her ex-husband. Since then she’d been sowing her wild oats.

  “You didn’t,” Thomas said, horrified.

  “No. I’m not stupid enough to sleep with someone I work with.”

  “Good. Keep it that way. Wait. I thought she was straight?”

  “So did she. What can I say? I can’t help it if women find me irresistible.”

  Thomas pictured his Native American partner. She wore her long dark hair in a French braid. She never wore make-up. She had a flawless olive complexion and natural long black lashes surrounding her big, light-brown doe eyes.

  Hence the name, Fawn. She also had a tribal armband tattoo on her upper left arm, which she covered with a jacket while on duty. She went by her middle name to honor her great grandfather, a renowned medicine man.

  She stood five foot seven, was fit, had broad shoulders, and walked like a dude. She was soft-spoken, her tone high. The contradiction between her looks and voice took some getting used to.

  “It might just work in our favor. Just go easy, remember she’s young and probably naive.” Johnson in IT was in her early twenties, whereas Shadowhawk, who had just turned thirty, was anything but.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled. Trust me.”

  “I guess I have no choice.”

  “Besides, she’s not naive. That girl may only be twenty-four, but she’s seen combat. That shit makes you grow up fast.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. Thanks, Shadowhawk, I owe you one.”

  “No problem. You know I’d do anything for you and Meagan. And don’t forget, if it doesn’t work out between you two, have her give me a call.” She chuckled.

  “Very funny. She’s straight.”

  “That’s what they all say, but by the time I’m finished with them, they’re singing another tune.”

  Thomas cringed. “Too much information. Can you email me the file?”

  “Yup, was planning on it the moment I got off the phone.”

  “Great. Thanks.” Thomas hung up.

  “What did she say?” Meagan’s words rushed out.

  “She’s sending me his file.”

  “Crap. The fact that he has a file is not good.”

  Thomas went back and sat behind the desk. Meagan resumed her seat across from him. He brought up his email account and opened the file. He was busy reading when Meagan interrupted.

  “Well, what does it say?”

  He stared at her a moment, not knowing how to relay the news. “It looks like the wife, Lorraine, had been taken to the ER on at least three different occasions. Each time the doctors notified the police, but she refused to press charges, making up lame excuses.”

  “Like what?” Meagan asked.

  “Fell down the stairs. Car accident. Fell off a ladder.”

  Meagan slid to the edge of her seat. “What kind of injuries are we talking about?”

  He did not want to go there. He stared at the photo that filled the screen, then back at her. “Broken jaw, broken nose, broken arm, cracked ribs, broken leg.”

  “No.” She jumped out of the chair and rushed around the desk. “Oh, my God.” The photo on the screen was of a woman in a hospital bed, her swollen face was black and blue, one eye completely shut. Even her own parents wouldn’t recognize her.

  Her hands squeezed his shoulders. “Thomas, we have to get her away from this guy now.”

  He patted one of her hands. “Babe, it’s not that easy. You said so yourself, you don’t know where they are.”

  “They’re in Florida.”

  “That’s a big state.”

  “She mentioned he was taking her to the Keys,” Meagan added.

  Thomas clicked through the file until he came to the statutory rape. Samuel was nineteen and the girl was thirteen. The parents had filed charges, but later dropped them. The girl’s name was Lorraine Winters. The woman he married.

  “Can’t you locate her by her cell phone?”

  “I’d need a warrant and there’s been no crime committed. Besides, Florida is out of my jurisdiction.”

  “There must be something you can do.”

  Thomas’ cell phone rang, he answered immediately.

  “It’s not good,” Shadowhawk said without preamble.

  “Lay it on me,” Thomas answered.

  “Samuel Charles Miller was arrested for molesting three little girls when he was sixteen. They could only get a conviction on one due to lack of evidence. The other girls’ parents wouldn’t let them testify.

  “So he went to juvie for molesting a nine year old girl. He was let out after one year for good behavior. That really burns my butt. Of course he was good, he was locked up with a bunch of dudes. His tastes lie elsewhere.”

  “I bet there’s more to the story,” Thomas added.

  “Yeah, like his father was a revered preacher and no one wanted to cross him. That’s why they could only get one conviction. The girl’s family moved shortly after the trial.”

  “You think the family was bullied?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Small towns can be pretty brutal. I know of at least two cases where girls filed rape charges against the town’s beloved football team.

  “The charges were quickly dropped because the entire town ganged up on them. They couldn’t believe their football heroes could be guilty of such a heinous crime.”

  “Yeah, I hear you. It makes sense. We’re talking a small town in Kentucky, the Bible Belt. A reverend and his son would be beyond reproach. I find it hard to believe this guy cleaned up his act. It’s more likely that after getting caught, he learned how to cover his ass.”

  “Exactly, pedophiles don’t change. It’s not possible. They should all be shot to put them out of our misery,” Shadowhawk said.

  “That would
be too good for them. They should suffer.”

  “True dat.”

  “Did Johnson come up with anything else?”

  “Not at this time, but she’s still searching.”

  “Do me a favor and see if you can find an RV registered to this guy.”

  “On it.”

  “Thanks. Talk to you soon.” Thomas had barely shut down his phone when Meagan jumped on him.

  “What did she find out?”

  “Besides being a wife beater, he’s a pedophile.”

  “Then wouldn’t he be registered?”

  “That was before the sex offender registry began in 1996, so the answer is no. The domestic abuse happened in a small town in Kentucky, so they could be behind the times and need the wife to actually file charges against the husband.

  “Most women recant anyway. That’s why the laws have changed. Babe, I know this is bad and I’ll do what I can to find her. But in the meantime, maybe you should warn her. See if you can get her to understand.”

  “I’ll do what I can. I think I left my phone upstairs.”

  The minute Meagan left the room, Thomas read the rest of the files. He too feared for Bridget, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what he could do about it. At the moment his hands were tied. Legally.

  TWELVE

  “Hey, I’m heading out.”

  Cody looked up to find Jilly leaning through the open doorway. He glanced at his watch, it was after nine. “You want to grab a burger? I missed lunch.”

  She hesitated a beat before answering. “I have to feed my cat.”

  “Why don’t you run home and do that, then meet me over at Murray’s Saloon?”

  Jilly stared at him.

  “It would give us a chance to compare notes,” he added.

  She sighed. “Okay. But we can’t go to Murray’s. Karaoke started at eight-thirty and we won’t be able to hear ourselves think, let alone talk.”

  “Damn. I was really in the mood for a good burger.”

  “How about Duke’s? That’s where we all hang out after work. They make a pretty good burger.”

  “Sure.”