Fear For Me: A Novel of the Bayou Butcher (For Me 2)

Cadence shook her head. “I don’t believe we’re looking at a man and a woman. From what I can gather, Stacy was the only long-term girlfriend in Walker’s life. She was trying to get away from him, not help him.”

“So he killed her,” Kyle finished.

“It’s not a romantic pairing,” Cadence continued as her gaze slid around the room. “I think it’s an alpha pairing.”

From the back of the room, Anthony saw Paul tilt his head in confusion. “What’s an alpha pairing?”

“When they began the killings, I believe Walker and his partner were both teens. The partner would have been a few years older. At the time, he was the dominant one, no doubt the one to push for the murder in the first place. He killed, and Walker watched.”

Lauren’s fingers had clenched in her lap.

“Over time, I believe Walker came into his own. He grew confident at the kill scenes, he wanted to kill. So he started his own crimes. Both men continued killing—one would kill, one would watch. Again and again.”

“She makes it sound like a competition,” the ME muttered a few feet from Anthony.

Cadence’s head jerked up. It seemed she had some damn strong hearing. “In a way, Dr. Wright, that’s exactly what it became. Walker’s killings became more brutal over time. Not just because of an escalation, but because he had someone to impress.”

This was a f**king mess.

“He stopped killing just in remote locations. He went right into the house of the Peterson family. He was taking risks because the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward.”

Murder was a reward in Walker’s sick world.

“Walker started as the submissive part of the team. He watched, he might have even lured in the prey. He didn’t kill. All that changed with the death of coed Beth Loxley. He was competing with his partner then, not just standing back and watching. After that, with each of his kills, Walker stepped closer to being an alpha in his own right. Not just one strong killer, but two.” Her gaze darted to the board behind her that showed all the faces of Walker’s victims. “They’re an alpha team, and that is the most dangerous serial killing team I know.”

She went to the board and flipped it over.

More photographs stared back. Missing persons reports. Anthony counted at least nineteen of them. “What the hell is that?” he demanded, raising his voice over the cops’ murmurs as they absorbed all of the pictures. Too many pictures. Lauren remained silent in front of him.

“These are women who’ve gone missing in surrounding counties. Some of them are believed to be runaways, but the others…the others are presumed dead.” Cadence paused as she waited for the noise to quiet. “I actually think they’re all dead.”

Shit.

Agent McKenzie’s hands had clenched into fists.

Cadence walked toward the first picture. “Walker’s partner was smart. He knew if he killed in different counties, it would be harder for the police to make connections between the crimes, especially when people didn’t even realize that crimes were happening.”

There were so many photographs. Nineteen of them.

Matt maneuvered close to Anthony. “Is this for real? You think Cadence is right on this?”

“Cadence doesn’t bullshit.”

Lauren flinched beneath his hand.

“How the hell do you know those are his victims?” Paul was back on his feet. The guy seemed to have real trouble staying in his chair. “Look, ma’am, we’re not some dumbass cops down here, okay? If we had another serial working here all this time—”

“I told you, the killer was smart. He crossed county lines, so there was no reason for the authorities to connect the dots on these cases.” Her fingers were touching the first picture. “Especially since he kept varying the age of his victim.”

She was staring at the first photo. “Denise Reed, age seventeen.”

Denise stared back at them. A young girl with dark hair and wide eyes.

Cadence touched the second picture. “Sally Samwell, age eighteen.” Another girl with a big smile and a dark tumble of hair.

“Rachel Penelope, age nineteen.” Her fingers skimmed over the girl’s dark hair.

“Georgia Trace, age twenty.”

The next photo. “Jamie Snowden, age twenty-one…”

“He’s going up a year, every time…” Kyle said, his voice too loud in the quiet room as the cops all made the same connection. “The girls look the same, same hair—”

“And they have the same blue eyes,” Cadence said as she glanced around the room. “This killer, I believe—in his mind—was killing the same girl again and again.”

Her hand slid over the other photos until she came to a photo that had been circled in red. “I believe he was killing Jennifer Chandler, over and over. The age went up, as Jennifer would have aged if she’d still been alive. That kill—it was necessary to him. He’s been doing it every single year since Jenny died.”

Fuck.

It was Lauren’s turn to rise to her feet. “My sister…”

All eyes turned to her.

“So many women…” Pain whispered through her voice.

“Since I believe Jenny was the first victim, I think she had a personal connection to the killer. They were friends, maybe they dated, maybe she rebuffed him. She knew him.” Sympathy flashed across Cadence’s face, but the determination in her gaze didn’t falter. “That means you might know him, too. If we can just find him, we can also find Walker.”

“We can take them both out,” Kyle added.

“That means we need to see every witness from the original Bayou Butcher case, we need to go over every file…” Cadence lifted her chin. Her delicate jaw hardened. “We will be looking for a male, in his midthirties, highly intelligent, attractive—”

“He’s good-looking?” one of the uniforms muttered, a little too loudly. “How do you know that?”

“Because all signs are that his prey willingly came to him. If there were indications of a struggle, we would have noticed them at the scenes. Even when Jenny Chandler’s car was found”—Cadence’s gaze darted to Lauren—“the appearance is that she willingly drove out to meet the perpetrator. An attractive man would have a much easier time luring his victims.”

Lauren backed away from her seat and moved to stand beside Anthony.