Flowers on Her Grave

by Jennifer Chase

She quickly set up the tent and organized everything just like a holiday camper would, padding her sleeping bag out as a decoy to give the appearance that she was tucked up inside. She then mounted small motion cameras generally used for wildlife spotting in several locations around her tent. When she was satisfied she had all areas covered, she hurried to find somewhere she and Cisco could safely watch from a distance.

  Tucked away in a hiding place with an unbroken view of her tent, she settled herself and Cisco in for the night. The temperature had dropped and she put on her gloves when she noticed that her hands were shaking. In her pocket, she had forgotten about a canister of mace she had and grasped it thinking it might prove useful. She removed the extra water bottles from Cisco’s packs and made indentations in the ground to store them. From where she sat, Katie was able to see more than one hundred eighty degrees, and with her infrared binoculars, she could zero in on any area hidden in the shadows.

  Next, she checked her cell phone, glad to see she had a connection with the cameras and infrared alerts. Happy, she leaned back against a large tree trunk and tore open a high protein energy bar for herself and a packet of savory chicken for Cisco. Waiting was the hardest part.

  Forty-Seven

  Thursday 1900 hours

  The mid-size SUV bounced around, bobbing, weaving and rattling everything inside including McGaven and John as it crawled up the mountain road. The high-beam headlights maintained a full scope of vision, but it didn’t help avoid the potholes.

  The nauseating swaying made McGaven’s stomach grumble. He realized that he hadn’t eaten anything in a while, so he drank from his water bottle that was balanced in the cup holder. McGaven had never been here before, but it appeared few other vehicles had either. If he could track and read signs in the road, he might be able to ascertain if Katie had been through there. For now, he had to assume that she was already at the twelve-year-old crime scene. He hid a smile, thinking about how she would have the area figured out.

  “Do you think Katie’s found the crime scene?” asked John as if he was listening to McGaven’s personal thoughts.

  “Found it. Walked it. And figured out what the killer did, and why,” he said.

  John smiled for the first time. “Somehow I think you’re probably right.”

  “I never met any cop like her and it was by pure chance that I was chosen to work with her on that first missing girl case. I absolutely hated the assignment…”

  “Yeah,” John said, looking at McGaven and holding the safety handle to maintain his balance as they hit bump after bump.

  “Oh yeah. But that didn’t last long; she put me in my place and then we worked things out from there.”

  “I could see that.”

  The road leveled slightly and they saw light tire tracks pressed into the soft dirt indicating that an off-road vehicle had recently come through there.

  “There,” he gestured to the tire tracks. “New tracks.”

  John nodded.

  McGaven relaxed a bit as he realized that he had a death grip on the steering wheel.

  A loud bang interrupted the quietness of the outdoors and the SUV listed to the driver’s side. They had a flat tire.

  Forty-Eight

  Thursday 1930 hours

  Katie woke suddenly to the sound of Cisco’s low whine next to her. She had been concentrating so much on relaxing her breathing that she must have dozed off for a few minutes. With so much adrenalin and anxious energy flooding her body, it wasn’t uncommon to feel drowsy after a while.

  Without saying a word Katie used hand signals to communicate to Cisco to be quiet. The dog obediently complied and kept watch, staring into the dark woods. Katie waited a moment as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Nothing moved. Nobody appeared. No sound echoed or interrupted the natural sway of the trees.

  Shielding her cell phone screen from view, she watched the infrared cameras. Nothing had triggered them. There were no indications that anyone moved past the security points. She kept her visual checkpoints and continued to survey with her naked eye and cameras. Over and over she made these visual rounds, slowly and methodically—until…

  Movement detected on her second camera.

  Another two minutes passed.

  Katie shifted her weight silently and kept her eyes tracking—making sure her vision wasn’t fixated on any one thing for too long. That’s when she saw it again. Movement. At first, Katie thought it was the slight swaying of the branches, but the black mass moved deliberately, like a predator searching for its prey.

  Katie slipped her Glock from her leg holster—quietly—ready for anything. She leaned forward, away from the tree trunk and into a squatting position. Cisco crawled forward next to her, alert and ready.

  The black mass morphed into the outline of a male figure—similar size and build to the man who attacked her at the apple orchard. He swiftly advanced out of the tree-covered area and into the open, but his face was covered. It was clear to see he had a semi-automatic gun, which was down at his side. He kept progressing, only stopping every three feet or so, and then inched forward again. He moved with practiced precision—he had been trained.

  She watched him approach her tent. Slowly unzip the entrance. Bring up his right arm, and fire four shots inside. The bullets echoed all around her.

  Forty-Nine

  Thursday 2000 hours

  “What was that?” said McGaven.

  John listened intently and looked upward toward the camping area. “Sounded like four gunshots. Probably semi-automatic.”

  They had managed to put some quick air sealant into the flat tire and drive the vehicle the rest of the way to the Dodge Ridge parking lot, where they found the sheriff’s white SUV.

  “We have to get up there,” McGaven said.

  “Wait. It doesn’t mean that was Katie.”

  “Then what?” said McGaven said. “Night hunters… no way. What else could it be?”

  “Here,” he said. “Take a pair of these night goggles. If someone is already up there, then we’ll come in the back way and flank them.”

  “Okay.” McGaven wasn’t so sure, but John knew what he was doing.

  “Get a hold of yourself. We’ve got this. I’m sure that Katie has everything under control. We’re just her backup.” John continued to ready himself for the hike as if he was getting ready for work.

  McGaven watched in awe how calm and focused John was. He took a moment and calmed himself. If John could do it, so could he. He grabbed his flashlight, extra ammunition, the night goggles, and zipped up his heavy jacket tighter to keep the cold out.

  “You ready?” asked John.

  “Absolutely.”

  Fifty

  Thursday 2030 hours

  Katie watched as the dark figure jerked open the tent opening only to be greeted by—no one. He stood up straight, tense, looking to every side, now realizing that he had been deceived.

  Would he leave as quickly as he had appeared? Katie didn’t think so. She moved from safety giving Cisco the hand signal to stay until she released him from his hiding place. Hating to leave him, she turned and looked at the dog’s dark outline, perfectly pointed ears facing in her direction, eyes reflecting in the dim light, and then she turned away and headed toward the enemy.

  She kept to the areas where she knew the dirt was loose making her footsteps almost entirely silent. She inched closer. Keeping a close eye on the figure, she saw him begin to move away from the campsite. She kept on his tail, hoping to flank him. She had to make her move—no matter what it was—she had to make it now, while he was off balance.

  The figure stopped suddenly as if he knew there was someone behind him. Was it Teagen? There was something familiar about how he moved. His body structure, the way he positioned the gun, and how he carried his upper body. It seemed familiar, but not recognizable.

  She crept closer with her gun trained forward.

  He slowly turned, realizing there was someone following. Strangely, he raised hi
s hands in the air. Katie stopped her approach, expecting some type of trap, but she had him trained in her sights. Nothing would make her miss her mark.

  With a sudden burst of speed she ran up on her assailant, yelling her demands, “Drop the gun! And turn around slowly! Now!” Gripping the gun hard, she readied herself to fire at him. “Drop the gun!” she repeated again.

  To Katie’s amazement, he dropped his gun.

  “Turn around slowly!”

  The man turned around and at last she saw his face clearly.

  “You?” she managed to say.

  Fifty-One

  Thursday 2045 hours

  McGaven felt burning in his calves but he had to keep moving.

  “Pick up the pace,” said John. He moved with ease as if the hike was merely walking in a park.

  “I know,” said McGaven, panting a little.

  “Hey,” said John as he stopped. “I saw on the map that there was another way up to the camping area. Maybe the best way there would be for us to split up?”

  “Good idea. You have your cell?”

  “Yeah, but there’s no signal right here. Maybe at the top?” said John.

  McGaven surveyed the area and as much as he hated the thought of hiking alone in the woods at night, he had to agree with John it was best that they entered the crime scene area from two different directions in case there were any problems. The sound of those gunshots still rang in his ears.

  “The other trail actually runs parallel to this one after about a mile or so. Keep your guard up,” John said.

  “Alright, once there’s a signal, we’ll check in. Otherwise, I’ll see you at the top,” McGaven said, trying to sound like it was a walk in the park.

  John gave him a reassuring look, and then he disappeared into the darkened terrain without making a sound.

  McGaven knew that John would reach the camping area before him. He was much faster, but that still didn’t make him feel any better. He trudged onward hoping that everything was worth the effort—and that Katie’s trap would go down without a hitch.

  Fifty-Two

  Thursday 2050 hours

  The enemy was not always what or who you thought it would be under battle and war conditions. You were always tempted during the hunt to jump to conclusions, which allowed illusions that made you look in the wrong direction. What seemed the most obvious or likely—could be overlooked. But what was the least likely still had the same effect—except it had the most impact throwing you off your game. And that’s when it was most deadly. Nothing was ever as it seemed…

  Katie was shocked, but kept her position firm and authority in check. “You,” she said again but kept her eyes on his hands for any sudden movement. Reaching into her top pocket, she ran her finger over her cell phone and hit the “record” button.

  He laughed. “You win fair and square. I give you that,” he said. The man who had stalked her and was ready to kill so effortlessly without any remorse—was Cody Teagen, Detective Teagen’s son.

  “You killed Cynthia Andrews?” she said. Her mind instantly ran at high speed to her first meeting with him; skilled with ropes, a collection of antique weapons in the barn. There was even the clipping of Dr. Wills’s courses at the university on his dad’s kitchen table. The clues were all there and Katie had missed them.

  “That was just kid’s stuff when I was in school.” He laughed again. “She was actually my first…” he said, as if visiting a happy memory. His dark eyes pierced Katie like a caged wild animal waiting for that perfect moment to pounce. He was the most dangerous kind of killer, the one you never expected.

  “But, you killed Aunt Claire,” Katie managed to say, resisting putting a bullet in his head right then and there. She would get the confession, officially read him his rights, and bring him back to the county jail. The right way.

  “No one could have guessed it was me, but you, Detective Scott, are different, aren’t you?” he mocked her with his compliment.

  “Why?” she said.

  “Why not?” he countered.

  “Turn around, get on your knees, hands on your head. Do it!”

  He laughed like it was a prank, but he did as she instructed.

  Katie took a small silver whistle from her pocket and blew it. Within seconds, Cisco was at her side.

  “Good boy,” she said. “Platz…”

  The dog instantly obeyed and pressed his chest to the ground.

  “Nice touch, Detective… oh, that’s right, you’re some kind of veteran… tracker… IED searcher. I guess some would consider you a war hero. Some, but not me.”

  Katie ignored him, suspicious of his quick surrender. Something wasn’t right. She didn’t want to involve Cisco, but she had no other choice. She was certain Cody had something else planned. She approached him and patted him down. He had two magazines and the gun he had dropped. She quickly retrieved them and put them inside her coat.

  “Pretty ballsy coming up here alone,” he said.

  “Who said I’m alone?” she replied.

  “You mean Fido here?”

  Katie pushed him onto his stomach, jumped on his back, and quickly bent his arms behind his back so she could slip the zip ties over his wrists and yanked hard to tighten them.

  “Hey, I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to rough me up, Detective.”

  “Get up!”

  “Why?”

  “Get up!” She moved forward and pressed the muzzle of the gun against his cheek. “Do it now,” she said, gritting her teeth as she could still see her aunt’s body on the laundry room floor.

  “Okay, okay. I’m not going to escape, if that’s what you think.”

  “You don’t want to know what I think,” she said.

  Cody bent his legs and wriggled into a kneeling position and then pushed himself up.

  “I’m going to ask you one more time. Why did you kill Claire Scott?”

  “You really want to know… it seems to me you would have already figured it out.”

  Katie could hardly look at the man. The man who cleverly sneaked into her uncle’s house, took the antique fighting knife, and butchered an innocent woman. Her aunt. Her beautiful, loving Aunt Claire.

  “Well, okay,” he said as if he was explaining the errands he had to run. “My dad was a great police officer. It meant the world to him. When he started having trouble with his health the department ignored him… abandoned him… made him feel weak… unnecessary… forgotten. That’s not right under any circumstances.”

  Katie realized that she was staring into the eyes of a serial killer and would bet her badge on the fact that the victims from other counties, Anna Blake and Dillon Masterson, were murdered by him. His lack of empathy exposed him. His hatred. His callous attitude. His enjoyment and fun of butchering innocent people.

  “Sheriff Scott pushed him out of the department. My dad was his friend. What you don’t know was that Sheriff Scott didn’t care about the endless suffering my dad had gone through. Every. Single. Day. And all because of your uncle. I leveled the playing field. One life for another. It was brilliant. The mighty Sheriff Scott would go to prison for the life of someone he cared about. You were going to be collateral damage. I amaze myself sometimes. Easy as that,” he said and shrugged his shoulders like he didn’t care. “It was too easy to sneak in to the house from the laundry room. Claire was working in the kitchen, so I crept into the living room and took one of the knives. Dad had mentioned them on several occasions. They were really special… special enough for a murder. She must’ve heard something because she came out and saw me, so she ran toward the master bedroom to alert the sheriff and that’s when she… well… you know… got her first…”

  “Go,” she said not wanting to hear any more details.

  “What? You don’t want to hear more?”

  “Start walking now.” There was no one she hated more than Cody Teagen at that moment. There was no forgiveness in the near future for someone who would take one of her family. She
ignited a glow stick to illuminate their path.

  “Fine.” He pretended to pout.

  “Keep moving until I tell you to stop.” Katie couldn’t look at him anymore—he disgusted her.

  “You were watching me in the orchard, weren’t you? I could feel it. Sorry that I didn’t get the opportunity to kill you then. You were smarter than I originally thought. You’re a woman, but an intelligent one. I’ll give you credit.”

  “Keep moving,” she said. Katie was done talking with him. She wasn’t going to let him get into her head. She wasn’t going to fall for his manipulations.

  They began walking down the trail. Katie kept her distance, Cisco tight to her heel.

  “Aw, you’re not going to talk to me anymore?”

  “I’m sure that the police are going to love hearing everything you have to say.”

  They kept walking.

  Something felt off. There were many questions that needed answering, but it made sense that he would kill Claire to make the sheriff pay for his dad. Still, something was misaligned about the profile—missing.

  They kept walking. Katie’s adrenalin subsided and her head began to pound. Suddenly, Cody turned to face her. “You just don’t understand. I pity you,” he mocked. His eyes seared into her with a blazing hatred.

  “Keep moving,” she said.

  “You have no idea, do you?”

  “Move!”

  “You’re just as clueless and—” He didn’t finish his sentence.

  A crack of a high-powered rifle blazed from a distance and hit Cody directly in the back. The bullet burst out of his chest and then grazed Katie’s shoulder.

  Katie fell backwards; her shoulder burning, and Cody fell on top of her, pinning her momentarily with his dead weight.