Jenna waved the flies away from her face. “Thanks and pass on my contact details to the next of kin.”
“Will do.” The line went dead.
As she pocketed her cellphone, she could hear something moving through the forest. Every hair on her body stood on end. She stood, drawing her weapon and scanning the forest. Beside her Duke gave a short bark and lunged forward, tail wagging. “Show yourself, this is Sheriff Alton and I’m armed.”
Her loud demand had her deputies pounding toward her, guns drawn, and the next moment, Rowley came around the bend.
“It’s Rowley, ma’am. Holy cow something sure stinks around here.”
Relieved, Jenna holstered her weapon and turned to her deputies. “Now I have your attention, I’ve spoken to the homicide department in the Canavars’ hometown.”
She gave them the information on Jim Canavar and waited for their response.
“That gives him a motive but doesn’t explain John Doe.” Kane snatched his hat from a branch and pushed it on his head. “We don’t know how many people are involved. This looks like more of a thrill-kill to me. Jim could have strangled her and left her for the animals. It would be a clean kill, leaving him the chance to turn up in a few days saying they had gotten lost in the forest. The killer who did this would be soaked in blood. This is another case of overkill.”
“Yet I can’t link it positively to the cold case as there are too many irregularities.” Wolfe removed his gloves and rolled them into a ball. “I’m convinced at least three people are involved and one walked out alive. There is a lot of blood spatter. If the killer was injured, he could have left trace evidence. I’ll conduct a blood and tissue analysis. With luck, we might have different blood types but I will run a full DNA on each one.”
Jenna sighed and looked at Kane. “Do you know the approximate sequence of events?”
“It’s a tough one but let’s say Jim wasn’t involved. If this murder follows the cold case, the killer could have disabled Jim before killing Bailey. We found his burner phone smashed and the SIM removed.” Kane leaned casually against a tree. “Jim could have come around and been in the fight of his life then escaped. He had no means to call for help and could be lying injured or unconscious somewhere.”
“Then who removed the evidence and the trail cams?” Webber rubbed his chin, and his attention moved to Wolfe. “It had to be the killer.”
“Or one of the killers.” Jenna sat back on the boulder, drawing up her knees. “If John Doe is one of the killers, someone else was here to clean up the evidence.”
“Or maybe John Doe was hired to kill Bailey.” Kane folded his arms over his chest. “I figure we have it all wrong and John Doe set up the kill zone with the trail cams because Jim wanted to watch Bailey die, then he killed the witness.”
Jenna shivered. “His ex-fiancée was never found. How many times has he done this before and where is he now?”
25
It was as if the cave was calling to him, but with two recent kills in the forest, he did not dare go too close to his hiding place. Never mind, his trail cam had night-vision optics, and although viewing through a strange light via his cellphone was not as goo
d as being there, he could at least make sure his captives were safe from predators. The portable electrified fence covering the entrance deterred bears and bobcats but rats would often sneak through.
His fingers itched to pull out his cellphone and inspect the men sitting against the wall of his cave. He loved the way the plastic sheeting pressed tight against their faces, and as each day passed their flesh melted like a candle in a flame. After spending the early morning hunting with a group of men he’d met at the Cattleman’s Hotel and acting like one of the boys, he craved some alone time. The men’s voices called him back to the now and he offered them a wave. “I’ll meet you later in the Cattleman’s Hotel for a drink.”
He joined the line at the checkpoint to inform the rangers he had nothing to declare then headed for the vehicle his last client had so generously purchased for him. Sticking to the letter of the law was important and he kept his hunting license up to date and on his person at all times. He had enjoyed his time in the forest this morning, but killing animals had lost its allure and he had not bagged a kill. Other things had been on his mind. Amongst the pines, with the pungent smells of gunpowder and death, he had relived the previous day’s hunt. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and the need to kill again overwhelmed him. It was just as well his friends couldn’t see the images inside his head. To them he was a regular guy.
The sound of air brakes heralded the arrival of the local bus bringing hikers and tourists to the forest. Black Rock Falls ran a bus service from town to the first ranger station every three hours during the peak seasons. He dismantled his rifle and placed it in its case then closed the back of his truck. He took in the eager faces of the people alighting the bus ready for an adventure and bit back a grin. If they wandered into his hunting ground, their visit to Black Rock Falls would remain in their memories forever. The wide-open death stare of Bailey flashed into his mind in a rush of exhilaration. He wanted to relive every second soon.
The bus pulled out in a cloud of dust and headed down the mountain road. Moments later a young couple dashed out of the forest waving their arms. They chased after the bus disappearing around a bend in the road. He stared after them. The woman was just his type, small with dark brown hair, longer than he usually preferred, but he could almost feel the silken strands running through his fingers. Her companion would be a challenge for him—strong and muscular—but the risk would be worth it. He climbed behind the wheel and drove out the parking lot.
As he turned the corner, he almost ran over the couple, thumbs out, hitchhiking. He couldn’t believe his luck. On the way back to town, he would be able to get up close and personal with them, perhaps discover their plans. He pulled up beside them. “Heading into town?”
“Yeah.” The young man in his twenties smiled. “We got a ride up here. We wanted to find out the best trails and start out fresh on Sunday morning then we missed the darn bus.”
He pushed open the passenger door. “Jump in. I’m heading into town.”
“Great. I’m Colter and this is my girl Lilly.” They slid into the front seat.
He didn’t offer his name and bit back a groan as the heat of Lilly’s thigh soaked through his jeans. “Where are you staying?”
“The Black Rock Falls Motel.” Colter smiled. “We had no idea this area would be packed with people. My idea of an idyllic Sunday hiking in the forest has melted like last year’s snow.”
“There are many old trails to explore; the forest is endless. You just need to know where to find them.” He pulled out onto the road and headed for town. “I can give you directions to an old trail away from the hunting areas and I have a bunch of old maps in the glove compartment. I’ll give you one. I can guarantee you won’t be bothered by tourists.”
“Yeah, but we are dependent on hitchhiking or the bus.” Colter sighed. “We can’t hike all the way from town, it would take all day. We only have Sunday—we have stuff to do tomorrow and we have to be back in Blackwater for work on Monday.”