The Crying Season (Detectives Kane and Alton)

“We’re working with next to nothing here.” Wolfe gave her a grateful look and shrugged. “Piecing the skeletons together took hours and we haven’t had time to determine the cause of death for Paige Allen.” He glanced at Kane. “I suggest you find their camp—it must be within walking distance from where we found them—and look for a gas can in the general area. From the contents of their backpacks they couldn’t have traveled for more than an hour from where we found them.”

Jenna shook her head. “We are talking about a massive perimeter to search, and bears would have trashed their camp by now. We searched the immediate area in all directions and found nothing. I’m not wasting resources going up there again.” She sighed. “I need boots on the ground here. I have a string of local complaints Walters had to place on the back burner while we trekked up the mountain and I need people checking out this couple’s movements. Why didn’t anyone file a missing persons’ report?”

“It does seem strange as they were prominent people in their town.” Wolfe leaned nonchalantly against the bench. “Then there is the cellphone. I will look at that as soon as possible. I would be interested to find out who they called in the hours before their deaths. Allen must have been carrying it when she was killed, and there is reception up there—why didn’t she call 911?”

“If she did, we’d have a record.” Jenna frowned. “This happened on my watch. There is no way a 911 call could slip past us.”

“I’ll check the logs when we get back to the office.” Kane’s brow wrinkled into a deep frown as he peered at the woman’s remains. “The damage to the spine is a typical incapacitating shot used to keep a person immobilized for questioning.” He shot a glance at Wolfe. “The killer wanted her alive, didn’t he?”

“As I said, I need some time to do a full report on our findings but, yes, that injury would be enough to paralyze a person. Then there is the belt we found tight around her arms. It doesn’t belong to her or her fiancé, they were both wearing belts. It must have belonged to the killer, and before you ask, there are no distinguishing marks on it.” Wolfe folded his arms across his substantial chest and sighed. “From what we can see, she suffered and was left for the animals to devour. The male victim was preserved for some reason.”

“Which means the woman was tossed aside once the thrill of killing had past. This is typical psychopathic behavior.” Kane pushed a hand through his dark hair and his expression turned somber. “But this killer has another twist to his persona. I believe he likes to visit his victims, for whatever reason, and uses the gas to prevent animals from disturbing them. Watching them decompose is an added thrill.”

17

The morning had become one of those days and Jenna had started to believe she was in charge of the Keystone Cops. In fact, if Rowley had waddled by her door in black and white twirling a baton she would not have blinked an eye.

In her absence attending to the cold case, the sheriff’s office had fallen into chaos. Fights had broken out all over town, including another ruckus at the Triple Z, and the phones had rung constantly with complaints. The hunting season was in full swing and it brought out a testosterone-fueled competitive spirit from the locals and a few of their guests.

Normally, the rangers, or FWP as the locals called the Fish, Wildlife and Parks enforcement officers, took care of the hunting side of things. They kept everybody honest by running the mandatory checkpoints in and out of hunting areas to check licenses and kills, but some of the excitement had spilled into town now the elk and turkey season had crossed over.

After dispatching her deputies to deal with the complaints, she had taken a well-earned cup of steaming joe into her office and shut the door. She had the task of following up the cold case information collected from Wolfe’s primary examination of the remains of Paige and Dawson. The names of both victims came up in the missing persons’ records for California. She made a note of the contact number and officer in charge of the case then reached for her phone. The connection rang a few times and a man’s voice answered.

“Yeah.”

“Detective Stokes?” Jenna glanced at the computer screen. “This is Sheriff Alton from Black Rock Falls, Montana. I have information on two of your missing persons: Paige Allen and Dawson Sanders.”

“Just a minute, I’ll access the file.” Stokes tapped on his keyboard then sighed. “Okay, what do you have?”

Jenna cleared her throat. “We found their remains on a trail in Stanton Forest way up the top of the Black Rock Mountain range. My medical examiner believes they have been here for about one year.”

“We tried hunting them down in Colorado. Apparently, after their engagement party, they went on a mystery holiday Sanders arranged there. Their families told us they insisted on leaving their cellphones behind and took a burner for emergencies. As we couldn’t trace their phones, we had no leads to their whereabouts. What happened to them?”

“I’m afraid we have a homicide.” The sightless sockets of the two skulls flitted across Jenna’s mind, sending a shiver down her back. “Both were subjected to considerable brutality. I can’t give you a full report yet. We have engaged a forensic anthropologist to work with our ME to determine cause of death.”

“Do you have a positive ID on the victims?”

“Yes, we have their drivers’ licenses and their

dental records.” Jenna chewed on her bottom lip. “Unfortunately, there is no doubt the victims are Dawson Sanders and Paige Allen.”

“I see. Any suspects? Any similar crimes in the area?” He drew in a deep breath. “Just a minute, Black Rock Falls, yeah I’ve heard of that place. You caught the Riverside Killer, didn’t you?”

Jenna drummed her fingers on the table. “Yeah and he’s in jail for life but he wasn’t responsible. The murderer of this couple has a different MO and as the crime happened one year ago, we don’t have any evidence to suggest he has killed in Black Rock Falls since. As he damaged Allen’s face, we are considering a crime of passion. What can you tell me about the couple? Is there a jealous lover in the picture?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Give me a few moments to read the file. It’s been over a year.”

Jenna sipped her coffee and waited.

“Right. The first person to contact us was Bruce Styles. He is Sanders’ roommate. After six weeks, the rent was due and Styles hadn’t heard from him, which was out of character. Of course, we found zip. It was as if they had vanished into thin air. When Sanders’ parents returned from overseas about a week later, they contacted Paige Allen’s parents and filed the missing persons’ reports together.”

Jenna listened with interest. A daughter goes missing for weeks and the parents do nothing? “What about the girl’s parents—what was their story?”

“The Allens expected Paige to be gone for one month. They explained the couple had a cellphone ban and wanted to be alone. They thought they had extended their vacation.” He sighed. “I’m not sure how they ended up in Black Rock Falls. Sanders told them they were heading for Colorado.”

“Did they contact any other friends or relatives?”

“We spoke to Sander’s workmates and the same for Paige. Like I said, they seemed to vanish. We listed them in the missing persons’ database. I put out a BOLO on the vehicle but again nothing came to light. I’ll give you the details.”