“They are interesting to study as long as you know how to play to their ego.” Jo collected her things. “Or get down to their level. Being their best friend usually works well, but never fall into a misguided state of false security. They’re killers, without feeling, and most would kill you without a second thought.”
Jenna frowned. The list of killers from her town had never left her mind; she recalled them and their victims vividly. “Yes, I know how dangerous they are, Jo. Learning how to deal with them is my goal. If I can think like them, I’ll be able to catch them easier.”
“Well.” Jo smiled. “We all live in hope of that. See you soon.” She hurried out the door and looked over one shoulder. “Don’t come out, the rotor blades will kick up a pile of dust. I’ll call you soon.”
Jenna followed her outside, gave them a wave, and closed the door against the rush of wind. She took her coat from the peg and tossed Kane’s to him. “We’ll drop by the office on the way to the autopsy and get the guys onto the footage now. I’ll be interested to find out if there’s been any calls on the hotline from the media release. I also want to know what our two suspects have been doing.”
“Sure.” Kane bent and rubbed Duke’s ears. “You stay here, Duke.” He went to the dog’s feeder and topped it up. “There you go, plenty of food to keep you going.”
Duke licked Kane’s hand and went to his basket, turned around three times, and lay down with a sigh. Jenna smiled at him and chuckled. “He’ll be asleep before we leave.”
“Yeah.” Kane pushed on his black Stetson. “It must have been a hard morning for him entertaining Zorro.”
Forty-One
He strolled through town, unable to keep the smile from his face. Everything had worked out as planned. He’d gotten to enjoy himself and hunted down a couple of tourists. Soon he’d be famous. The body he’d stashed in a cave was the talk of the town. He’d walked past the Black Rock Falls newspaper office and read the headlines about the missing woman. They’d searched for a week now, but he’d hidden her in a secluded place he’d found as a boy, far from any regular trails. The urge to hunt again had become a nagging ache but he’d wait until the time was right. Being smart and taking his time to plan each exquisite move had worked so far. Confidence filled him with power. He would control destinies and no one would be able to touch him as long as he remained patient. He’d seen the sheriff’s team, like a pack of wolves hunting him down, but they’d never find him. They’d run in endless circles. He could be nowhere and everywhere at the same time, and, like a Halloween illusion, he’d vanish into the mist.
He slowed to examine the Halloween displays. Man, they got bloodier every year. As a kid, wearing a sheet over his head with holes in it and screaming “Woo woo” had been his Halloween highlight, but the excitement of scaring people didn’t last long. He’d return home expecting the beating his father would give him for cutting holes in his ma’s linen. He’d learned long ago that crying didn’t satisfy his pa’s brutality, it made it worse, so he’d never made a sound. He understood the feeling just fine—the rage when women screamed or pleaded with him made him want to shut out the noise. This Halloween would be different and nothing would come close to the feel of warm blood on his hands. The smell from his last kill still lingered in his nose, like a beautiful memory to savor, and he found himself moving close to the macabre displays and inhaling just in case.
He strolled on, enjoying the fresh air mingled with the fascinating aromas drifting from Aunt Betty’s Café. During his time away, he’d had dreams about the diner. The quality of the food never changed, although Susie Hartwig had replaced the old lady he’d remembered as the manager. The menu had grown from a small greasy sheet to a foldable plastic-covered list of delights, and he planned to spend every day eating there to make up for lost time. He had money to burn. In fact, he doubted he could ever spend all the cash hidden in his home.
Fall leaves spun in wind funnels across the sidewalk and the sky darkened as clouds passed the sun. The dry storms still threatened, and he noticed quite a few folks glancing skyward nervously. He chuckled. Nothing frightened him, not even the threat of death. He’d just make the best of the time he had left, one day or fifty years made no difference. He didn’t care.
The sound of a powerful motor moving down Main drew his attention and he stared after the vehicle driving Sheriff Alton to the sheriff’s department. He’d been watching them for over a month now, and he could just about set his watch to her arrival each morning. Yet here it was way past noon and she’d only just arrived. He shook his head. Trust the woman to be tardy when he had plans. He removed his hat and scratched his head. Maybe she’d be on time tomorrow.
Forty-Two
The sky darkened as Kane followed Jenna inside the morgue and his mind went straight to Duke alone at home. His dog had been through a traumatic event with Jenna during a storm and he wondered if he would cope alone if another storm hit. “There’s a storm coming. I hope Duke will be okay.”
“He’ll hide under your bed.” Jenna led the way to an alcove outside an examination room with a red light glowing, indicating an autopsy was in progress.
Taking in Jenna’s pale, drawn complexion, Kane touched her arm. “That was pretty bad meeting Stone again, huh? I wanted to charge in the moment he moved close to you but figured it would only make things worse.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Jenna shrugged out of her jacket. “What could he do to me? He had both hands chained to his waist and his legs shackled. Trust me, I was getting ready to punch him in the nose if he made a move to hurt me.” She handed him a set of scrubs. “He likes to control and intimidate. I didn’t want him to know he’d scared the life out of me. That’s why I stood my ground.” She looked at him. “It beats me why I immediately tied my intruder to Stone. I mean, Stone never wore a slicker. Well, not when I confronted him in the forest. He wore camouflage gear as far as I know. It was just the way he stood, holding the crossbow.” She shrugged. “Then the other day in the alleyway, the menace that flowed from that guy, it was just the same hate I felt from Stone in the interview room.”
Kane touched her cheek. Her flesh was cold under his fingers and matched the frigid air in the morgue. “You know it wasn’t him. That doesn’t make this killer any less dangerous. This guy may be a copycat, but most times they’re more vicious than the real thing. They like to prove they’re worthy of the notoriety. You’re right to be worried. It’s a perfectly normal response.”
The door whooshed open and Wolfe stood at the entrance. Kane nodded to him. “Are we late?”
“Nope, right on time.” He waved them inside. “Em is at school so I only have Webber, and another pair of hands would make life easier.”
As he followed Wolfe into the examination room, the smell of decay and gasoline crept through his mask like evil twins of murder. Kane pulled on his g
loves. “Sure, who do we have first?”
“Emmett Howard out of Sleepy Creek.” Wolfe indicated toward the X-rays on the screen. “As you can see, a crossbow bolt penetrated the frontal lobe, causing a significant skull fracture. Even without removing the cranium, the lack of hematoma from the injury is indicative that this is the cause of death. I’d say it was instantaneous. The penetration through the skull and the depth the bolt dug into the tree would indicate the shot was taken within six feet.”
Kane moved closer. “I can still smell gas. Can you tell if it was poured over him before he was shot?”
“Yeah.” Wolfe lifted the eyelids. “As you can see, the damage to the eyes is significant. The redness and swelling wouldn’t have occurred post mortem as in Patti Howard. When we get to her, it’s obvious the gas was used post mortem.”
“Stone only ever used gas on the male victims.” Kane lifted his gaze from the blank, staring eyes of Emmett Howard. “I figure he wanted the women he murdered eaten by wildlife as a final desecration.”
“Yeah, I have to agree.” Wolfe stared at him over his facemask. “This killer wanted everyone to see what he’d done to these people. He’s proud of his work and wants to display it. Stone was more interested in murdering his clients and keeping them in his private viewing gallery. The couples on the trail were just short-lived entertainment, they meant nothing to him once they’d died.”
“What about the spine?” Jenna moved closer, adjusting her facemask. “Is it severed like Stone’s victims’?”
“Again, from the X-ray and initial examination of the body at the scene, I’d say affirmative, but of course the findings today will prove or disprove that theory.” Wolfe used a remote to bring up the images of the spine. “See here.” He pointed to the screen. “The notches in the bone? This is what I’d normally find in this type of deliberate injury. The knife must be moved through the bone to the spinal cord. It takes skill and practice.”