by D. K. Hood
“Here, you take the flashlight.” He waved her through the door. “There’s a lamp just inside, I’ll switch it on. Head down the back past the hayloft, the mare is down there on the left.”
“Okay.” Vicky’s voice trembled but she moved ahead of him.
Vicky hadn’t walked more than a few yards into the barn before his girl sprang out of the dark, with a scarf wrapped around her face. It happened so fast that in the next second, his girl was on Vicky’s back. They fell hard onto the dust-covered floor in a tangle of limbs. Moments later his girl had a cloth pressed over the stunned girl’s face. The flashlight spilled from Vicky’s hands and a beam shone over them, sending huge shadows across the barn wall. A chemical smell filled the air and he covered his face and backed away. The couple rolled on the floor grunting. Vicky was fighting back but as soon as she weakened, his girl knotted the cloth around her face. It seemed to take forever before Vicky finally succumbed and fell silent.
He found the lantern inside the door and switched it on. Dust motes danced like golden rain in the pool of light. He stared at Vicky; her clothes were covered in dust and sticks of hay stuck in her hair. He dragged his gaze away and looked at his girl. “Is she out?”
“I think so.” His girl pinched Vicky hard and when she didn’t respond, she rifled through her pockets and came out with her phone. She stood and walked toward him. She popped open the phone, took out the battery and SIM, and dropped them into a bucket of water. “The chloroform will evaporate soon, stay outside, we have time before she wakes up.”
He stared at Vicky, lying so still. “Too much will kill her.”
“Not enough and she’ll wake up too soon. I practiced on my dog. A few drops knocked him silly for a good five minutes.” His girl removed the scarf, tied it around her waist, and leaned in close. “We’ll have time to tie her up and drag her into the stall I’ve set up for our fun. This time I’ve stapled plastic sheeting all around the walls and over the ground.” She gave him a satanic grin and retrieved a hunting knife from the bench. “Do you like this?”
Chill bumps crawled up his arms as he stared at the pristine knife. Flashes of his girl stabbing Laurie spun through his mind. This time there would be blood, lots of blood. He swallowed hard and tried to focus. Things were moving way too fast and he couldn’t think straight. “It looks brand new.”
“It could be.” His girl waved it around. “I took it from a guy.”
He blinked at her. “You did what? Are you crazy?”
“Nope, it was in a crowd at the festival, I just slipped it out of his belt. He’d been drinking too much to feel a thing. Neat, huh?” She turned around to look at Vicky and then pulled her T-shirt over her nose. “Help me drag her into the stall. I have everything ready.” She gave him a slow grin. “Then we’ll wait for her to wake up. I don’t want her to miss a thing.”
Fifty-Three
Jenna stood, cleared the takeout wrappers from her desk, and set up the coffee machine again. Kane and Rio had their heads bent over their laptops, and the printer was whirring and spitting out documents at an incredible rate. She heard the front door open and the sound of claws on tile and the next moment Duke came through the door, checked Kane was still where he’d left him, and then went into his basket, did his usual three turns, and flopped down. Footsteps came down the passageway and Carter came through the door with Zorro on his heels. Jenna waved a hand toward the desk. “Your laptop has been chiming, I figure you have a message.”
“I hope so. I sent some information to Kalo in the hope he might find something of interest.” Carter walked to his laptop and smiled. “Uh-huh.”
Jenna dropped into her chair and looked at him. “What did he hunt down for us?”
“Interesting leads.” Carter removed a toothpick from between his teeth and flicked it into the trash. “I had Kalo check the IRS database for missing information on two of the suspects. He discovered the current occupations of the fathers of Dale Collins and Cory Hughes. After the vague information we received from their ex-wives, I figured it might be relevant information. Mr. Collins is a car salesman and Mr. Hughes is a linesman.”
“Did he work where Laurie Turner was found?” Kane looked up from his laptop.
“The very same place.” Carter smiled. “How about that for a coincidence?”
“Yeah, but Al Watson was the only person working the day Laurie Turner was found.” Rio leaned back in his chair. From what I know about Cory Hughes, his pa isn’t living with them anymore. I don’t believe it’s relevant to the case.”
“When we have zip, everything is relevant.” Carter looked down his nose at him. “Think about it. If Cory or Verna visited their pa, he might have told them about where he’d been working and why. He could’ve mentioned all the old mines in the area and how isolated it is there.” He tipped back his Stetson and narrowed his eyes. “How else would kids know about the mines? It’s not a place they’d go for a picnic, is it?”
“I guess not.” Rio stood, went to the printer, and sorted through the documents. “We seem to be avoiding Wyatt Cooper. Why is that?” He made neat piles and handed them around.
Jenna shrugged. “I’m not convinced it’s him. Why place himself in the spotlight from the get-go by stuffing his shorts in Laurie’s mouth? I figure we need to concentrate on the others.”
“Okay.” Rio ran his fingers over the documents. “These are the timelines of everyone involved based on the evidence we have to date.”
“We could easily have used the split screen on our laptops.” Carter stared at the paperwork with a bewildered expression.
“Sometimes old school works.” Rio shrugged. “Our brains get used to the same format. Change it up and things start to pop out. Give it a try.”
When Jenna’s phone played Wolfe’s ringtone, they all looked at her expectantly. She put her phone on speaker. “Hi, Shane, any news?”
“Yeah, the samples from the ring are fresh. I didn’t have much to work with but there’s no doubt, the skin sample trapped in the ring, came from the night of Mrs. Turner’s murder. It seems Dr. Turner removes his ring when he washes his hands. I found no traces of soap at all. The DNA itself hadn’t broken down, that takes years so the decomposition rate of the skin sample was crucial. I’ve completed a comparison of the tissues found and those collected from her body. The rate of decomposition from the body and the sample taken from the ring is identical.” Wolfe tapped away on his keyboard. “I also found traces of Dr. Turner’s DNA on his wife’s cheek where he slapped her and on her neck around the fingerprints during the strangulation. It’s conclusive evidence that Turner strangled his wife. I’ll make it pretty and send it to the DA.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll send you a copy. Good work, guys, you got him.”
Jenna smiled and then her mind went to Laurie and Becky. “But unless we find patient 124, we can’t tie him into the cheerleader murders. Their killer is still walking free.”
“Turner is still going to try and wriggle out of murdering his wife.” Kane looked at her. “There is a way a doctor can give up the name of his patients in a criminal case. It takes a court order and he has to inform the patient.” He shrugged. “He’ll have to go see him, won’t he? Well, we have a Blackwater deputy watching his property. His vehicle hasn’t left his home yet but when Shane’s evidence is presented, I bet he’ll make his move and then we’ll find the name of patient 124.”
“I’ve hunted down any chance of Turner being involved with the other murders but found nothing.” Wolfe sighed. “Jeanette Turner’s murder was a copycat. Turner was sloppy, he left fingerprints and didn’t try to disguise his presence on scene. In the other cases, the killers left little behind.”
“Have you had anything back from the Snapshot DNA Profiling System?” Kane stood, stretched out his tall frame and headed for the coffee pot.
“I should get something soon.” Wolfe sounded pleased. “The information could bust the case wide open.”
Jenna smiled. “I sure h
ope so. Call me as soon as you have something.”
“I sure will.” Wolfe disconnected.
Jenna’s phone chimed again and she pulled a face. “Oh, great that’s all we need, a 911 emergency.” She accepted the call. “You’ve reached Sheriff Alton, what is your emergency?”
“This is Tony Perez. I’m concerned about my daughter, Vicky. I dropped her at Aunt Betty’s Café to have supper with a friend. I told her I’d be by to collect her at eight-thirty. She’s not there and she’s not picking up her phone.”
Jenna made swift notes and glanced up at the others. It was nine-thirty. “Did she mention going anywhere else?”
“No but I spoke to that photographer guy and he said she got a ride in a red pickup. He can’t recall the time.” Perez sucked in a long breath. “Since Laurie’s murder, we’ve been taking Vicky anywhere she needed to go and collecting her at a specified time. I set the rules, and she wasn’t to go anywhere without telling us. She always answers her phone, it’s never out of her hands. Something’s happened to her.”
“This is Special Agent Carter FBI. Give me your daughter’s phone number and I’ll get someone to run it down.” Carter picked up a pen and took down the details. He stood and went out into the hallway to call Bobby Kalo.
Jenna could hear the muffled conversation. “The photographer you spoke to, would that be Stan Williams?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He hangs around the cheerleading squad taking their pictures all the time.” Perez sucked in a deep breath. “Look, Sheriff, my wife has called all Vicky’s friends. Not one of them knows anyone apart from Laurie with a red pickup and yet Williams told me, she waved at the person and ran out to meet them. He didn’t see who was inside the truck. I’m at a loss to know what to do. I’ve been waiting here in case she comes back. I didn’t want to wait any longer before I called you. Not in Black Rock Falls with a killer on the loose.”
“You did the right thing. Could you hold the line, Mr. Perez? I need to speak with my deputies.” She looked at Rio and Kane. “Run our suspects and family members through the MVD and let’s see if anyone else owns a red pickup.” She unmuted the phone. “Did Williams mention a make, or model?”
“Nope but he’s still inside. I’ll go ask him.”
Jenna waited chewing on the end of her pen. The sound of computer keyboards tapping was the only sound in the room. Photographers being observant, it was likely Williams would recall the make at least. She sighed with relief when Mr. Perez came back on the line. “Yes, I’m here, Mr. Perez.”
“He figures maybe a Dodge Ram.”
When both Kane and Rio shook their heads, an overwhelming sense of failure swept over Jenna. “Okay, stay where you are, I’ll get a search organized and send someone to your location to wait with you.” She disconnected and called in old Deputy Walters, who lived close by, to head out to Aunt Betty’s. She looked at the three men before her. “Rio, get a media release out, now for a missing girl, you know the drill.”
“Sure.” Rio stood and headed for his desk.
A phone rang and Carter took his phone from the desk. “It’s Kalo.” He stared at the whiteboard. “What have you got for me, Bobby?” He listened. “Uh-huh. Did you trace the number? Okay thanks.” He disconnected. “The last call she received was from the same number as four previous calls in the last twenty-four hours or so. The number is from a burner and Vicky’s phone is inoperative. I figure Vicky has been targeted as the next victim.”
Fifty-Four
Nauseous and giddy, Vicky forced her eyelids to open. She couldn’t lift her head and something was stuffed inside her mouth. Her face hurt. Her cheek stung as if someone had slapped her repeatedly. The memory of being attacked flooded through her mind on a tidal wave of fear. She wanted to scream but remembered her father’s words after Laurie was taken. He’d told her if she was ever kidnapped, to remain as calm as possible, that crazy people fed on fear. If she kept her head, there’d be a chance she’d stay alive long enough for someone to save her. It had been easy for him to say that, he wasn’t tied up in a barn. Panic rose in a rush at the sensation of being tied hand and foot. She clenched her muscles but found no give against the thick black tape binding her. Against her hands, she recognized the slick feel of plastic. The dim half-light from a battery-operated lantern close by reflected in the sheets attached to the walls. Ice-cold fear wrapped around her. She’d seen enough horror movies to know they were holding her in a murder room. When the sound of people arguing in whispers drifted from outside her prison, she listened intently watching from beneath her lashes.
“I told you you’d given her too much.” The muffled male voice was accompanied by footsteps as they came into the stall. “She’s been here too long. We should have finished her by now. Why not just strangle her and we’ll dump her somewhere in Stanton Forest?”
“After what she put me through?” A girl’s voice she thought she recognized sounded angry. “I want her to pay. There’s no way she’s gonna sleep through her punishment. I’m going to make her feel every cut.” She laughed as they walked into the stall. “See this? It’s salt. I’m going to fill her cuts with it to make them unbearable.” She chuckled again. “I found sulfuric acid on the shelf but that stuff stinks, so the salt will have to do.” She wet her lips. “I’ll let you cut her too. Did you bring a knife as well?”
“Yeah. My pa’s hunting knife. He won’t miss it. He never comes by the house no more.” He pulled out the knife and waved it at her.
“Perfect.” She stroked his cheek. “Now, try to wake her again. Slap her, she’s got to come around soon. I didn’t use that much chloroform.”
“If I hit her any harder, I’ll break her jaw.” He sounded concerned. “I’ll get a bucket of water and throw it over her.”
“No!” The girl was obviously in charge. “Then the blood will run everywhere, we need to keep it clean in here. Slap her again. I’m going to get a bottle of water from my backpack and I want her awake by the time I get back.” She flicked a zippo lighter. “I have something else to try if you can’t wake her.”
Heart threatening to burst with fear, Vicky remained slumped against the wall with her head on her chest. Footsteps came closer and someone wearing surgical gloves cupped her chin, and lifted it. Fighting the need to pull away, she forced her breathing in and out, in and out, slow, and even. Like when she was a kid and pretended to go to sleep. His touch was almost tender.
“Vicky, wake up now.” He patted her cheek. “Please wake up, I don’t want to hit you again.”
He didn’t want to hit her again? Did she have an ally against the raving lunatic planning to cut her? Pain sliced through her cheek and she toppled over, rolling onto the floor from an unexpected blow. Her head hit with a blinding crack and she couldn’t muffle a moan. Dragged back into a sitting position, thick fingers forced her eyelid open and she stared into the face of her date but dropped her head the moment he released her. If the girl wanted her awake before she cut her, she’d play possum for as long as she could. Her pa would have discovered she was missing by now and someone would have seen her getting into his truck.
“Wake up.” He shook her violently. “You’re just making her mad. The longer you stay unconscious the madder she’ll get and she’ll take it out on you.”
“Making nice with Vicky, huh?” The girl’s voice was as sweet as molasses. “Now I’m jealous.” She moved closer, making the plastic rustle with each step.
Her breath brushed Vicky’s face and then a cold line flashed across her cheek. A rush of warmth oozed down her face and she could feel droplets hitting her bare arm. Had she cut her?
“Not so pretty now, is she?” The girl dragged back Vicky’s head. “Is she?”
“I never said she was pretty.” His voice was a little shaky. “I just wanted her awake so we could kill her and then make out before we dump her body.” He gave a hesitant laugh. “It’s only ever been you. You’re my girl, the others mean nothing to me and never will.”
“That isn’t the plan.” She kicked the bottom of Vicky’s boots. “I want her awake when I cut her into pieces. I want to hear her beg for her life. She needs to know what it’s like to be bullied. Now her little circle of friends are dead and when she’s gone, I’ll be the captain.”
“You’ll be the captain now anyway.” His voice dropped to almost a whine. “Let’s get this done before we’re missed. It’s getting late.”
“My folks think I’m in my room and your ma thinks you’re doing your chores so we have all the time I need.” She giggled. “She’ll wake up soon.” She moved close to Vicky’s ear. “Wake up so I can kill you.”
Dread slammed into Vicky. Time was running out fast and no one knew she’d left the safety of Aunt Betty’s Café with him. Her ally was a gutless coward. He’d insisted on secrecy and now she knew why. They’d tied her so tight, she couldn’t fight back, and if they discovered she was awake they’d torture her slowly. To survive she had to outsmart them. These were the people who’d killed her friends and expected her to scream and fight but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Anger rose and shattered in terror. Vicky bit down hard on the cloth in her mouth in an effort to appear unconscious. She couldn’t keep up the pretense forever. Her face throbbed and beneath her eyelashes she could see blood dripping onto her arm. An uncontrollable tremble rippled through her. Had they seen it? She braced herself waiting for the inevitable. I’m going to die in a world of pain.
Fifty-Five
Remaining calm when the world was going to hell was part of Jenna’s training and fate had given her at least two people with the same attitude. Running around in circles wouldn’t help Vicky Perez. “We have four main male suspects, call them. I want to know if they’re home. I’ll take Wyatt Cooper, Kane, call Stan Williams, Carter, you have Dale Collins, Rio, Cory Hughes. Their home and cellphone numbers are in the files. I want to know where they are and who they’re with.”
