The Crying Season (Detectives Kane and Alton)

53

He checked his watch then removed it and left it in a backpack; he did not want it covered in DNA. The time he had planned to make his first move would be perfect. The sun had already dropped in the sky. One more weapons’ check and he headed out the cave and down the mountainside, moving with stealth through the dense undergrowth along the narrow animal paths he knew like the lines on his palm.

Paul and Mariah had chosen a perfect spot for the hunt. One hundred yards from their current position, the trail fell away on one side to a canyon with a rocky ravine dug out of the mountain by a prehistoric glacier, and only a fool would risk running down there. The track ended in a switchback forcing the hikers to double back; in other words, his prey would be running around in circles. He would position himself in the middle and have a clear shot to bring down Paul in full view of the trail cams.

His cellphone vibrated and he glanced at the screen. The viewers had voted for his first move. He chuckled. They were like a medieval bloodthirsty crowd waiting to watch someone hanged, drawn, and quartered. He tied the bandana around his face and put on his sunglasses. The cap covered his hair, and dressed like this with the voice changer app turned on, no one would recognize him. His earpiece and mic were in place and ready to live-stream. He turned on his body cam and spoke to his viewers. “Moving out. Come on, you sadistic assholes, make me work for it. I want to take my time and enjoy killing the bitch.”

54

Bradford listened to Wolfe’s instructions in her earpiece and glanced at Rowley, positioned a few feet above, on the plateau. The sun was dropping and the team was moving down the black rocky slopes and into a better position. She trembled at the thought of being alone so close to the bottom of the mountain; the place Wolfe had sent her was only a few feet from the forest floor. She would have to run through the trees then dash twenty yards along an animal track before climbing into the safety of the crevice. The idea of being so close to a potential killer scared the hell out of her, and to make things worse, she had seen a bobcat earlier. In an effort to calm her nerves, she took one last look around then contacted Rowley. “Is it safe for me to move out?”

“Yeah. I’ve scanned the immediate area and can’t see any movement. If the killer is stalking the sheriff, he’ll be way down the other end of the trail by now. The bobcat disappeared into the undergrowth and shouldn’t bother you. You’re good to go.” Rowley’s voice was confident. “Move out, I’ll watch your back.”

She clambered down the rough pathway and headed for the trees. With her back to a tree, she searched all around then bolted for the small incline that led to the crevice. After being in the sunlight, the pathway through the tall pines was dark and claustrophobic. She pushed her way through the undergrowth, searching for the animal path Rowley had insisted was there. A flash of green caught her attention and she stumbled to a halt. Not green but the reflection from cat’s eyes. She bit back a scream as the bobcat sprayed his scent over the closest tree. The cat lifted its head and his eyes fixed on her, but only the tip of its tail twitched.

Heart pounding against her ribs, she turned and ran for her life, stumbling over branches. The com link had fallen out of her ear and tangled around her legs. She ripped it free and ran through the forest, heading down the first trail she found. She heard the sound of something big behind her then a huge weight slammed into her back and she crashed to the ground. The wind rushed out of her lungs and she gasped painfully for breath waiting for the cat to bite. She heard a disjointed chuckle as someone rolled her onto her back then fell on her, crushing her ribs. It was not the scent of a cat or its sharp claws but a man.

Terror slammed into her, cutting off the protest in her throat. A skull looked back at her, the eyes covered with mirrored sunglasses. She tried to move but the large man had her arms pinned under his knees, and with his weight on her chest, she fought to suck air into her lungs. His head turned from side to side, as if evaluating her.

“Get off me.” Her voice sounded high pitched and breathless.

Before she had the chance to inform him she was a deputy, he gripped her throat and squeezed. She could do nothing but stare into her own terrified reflection in the lenses of his sunglasses. Anger welled inside her. If he intended to strangle her, he would have a fight on his hands. She kicked hard with her legs then dug the heels of her boots into the leaf mold in an effort to push him off her. His reply was to squeeze her neck so tight, her vision blurred and she gasped for air.

“We have an unexpected bonus.” The voice was strange, almost mechanical. “Why are you out here all alone?”

“I was taking a shortcut back to the hunting area to meet my husband.” Bradford grunted. “He’s not far away.”

“Really? I didn’t see anyone.” His voice made her skin crawl.

The grip around her neck decreased slightly and she nodded, in the hope Rowley would be following her movements in his scope. The killer had found her, and without Rowley’s help, she would become his next victim. She had to get away from him but he was so str

ong. Somewhere in her confused panic, she remembered Kane talking about how psychopaths liked their victims to scream and fight back. In an effort to gain a precious few minutes, she forced her tense muscles to relax. The man noticed immediately, and keeping a grip on her throat with one gloved hand, he used the other to unzip her jacket. He slid out her service weapon from the shoulder holster and waved it in front of her eyes.

“You should have drawn this when you saw the bobcat.” He ran the muzzle of the gun down her chest between her breasts. “A couple of shots in the air and the cat would have taken off. Yet you decided to run. Cats like to hunt. You ran and made it a game for him and me.” He stared at her. “Most girls would be begging me not to hurt them about now. Are you very brave or are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

She shook her head, refusing to speak to him.

“I’ll give you a heads-up: I never negotiate and you’re about to die.” He gave a snort of mirth. “Open your mouth.”

Tremors wracked her body but she complied. He ran the muzzle of the gun across her cheek then pushed the barrel into her mouth. Cold metal pressed against her tongue and the taste of oil spilled across her taste buds. She could not believe how calm and in control he was. Not the crazed, slashing maniac she had envisioned. Staying calm was her only hope, and Rowley would come crashing through the bushes at any moment.

“Give me the figures.” He spoke into his mic and nodded as if getting instructions via his com then moved the gun back and forth in her mouth. “Where are the others now? Okay, I’ll get into position after I’ve dealt with this one.”

He paused as if listening, and her eyes swiveled to notice the body cam and com pack he was wearing. He was awaiting instructions for his pay-per-view. Oh, Jesus, help me.

“Oh, I like that and then I’ll be on my way.” His attention moved back to her. “If we had met at another time, we could have enjoyed this so much more.” He leaned to one side and she heard a swishing sound.

Then she caught sight of the knife.

55

Kane wanted to protect Jenna. If the killer planned to aim a bullet at him, he could not risk him missing and hitting her by mistake. He gave Jenna a friendly push in the back. “You go first and watch your step. According to the map, the canyon is on the right; the edge is probably covered with vegetation and there is a ravine at the bottom.”

“Sure, I guess if I slip you’ll grab me in time?” Jenna glanced at him over one shoulder.

“You know I will.” Kane moved closer and rested one hand on her shoulder. “Is that better?”

“Much.” Jenna’s muscles tensed under his grip. “The sun is dropping fast—how late is it?”