Page 7 of So Savage

“No.The murders were almost businesslike.We don’t think the killer spent any more time with them than he needed to.”

“So he wanted to see them die but didn’t need to see the fear in their eyes.”

“Is that unusual with serial killers?”Marcus asked.

“It’s unusual with the up-close and personal ones when there’s no sexual compulsion.Often, serial killers will sedate their victims if they intend a sexual assault prior to murdering them, but if they’re just killing them, they usually want them awake to see the light fade from their eyes.”

Marcus grimaced, and she added, “It’s brutal, I know, but that’s why I’m here.Speaking of, it would probably be best if my involvement was kept quiet.I understand it’s not possible to completely hide me, but if you could at least keep my name out of the media.”

“Yes, your superior mentioned that.I understand there’s been some trouble with a case back east involving a serial killer who was once obsessed with you.”

Faith’s lips thinned.“I would prefer not to talk about it.”

“Of course.I didn’t mean to offend.”

“None taken.”

Faith frowned.“It just occurred to me.Why isn’t Military Police handling this?”

“They were, but we now have two victims from two different branches.The MP units couldn’t agree on who should be in charge, so they called us as a neutral organization, and we called the FBI since the exotic nature of these crimes justifies your involvement.”

Faith cocked her head.“Is this really exotic, though?It’s not normal to have a killer sedate his victims with tranquilizer darts, but there’s nothing else really unusual.”

“Not on the surface, no,” Marcus agreed, “But I would really rather not wait for a third victim to cross our t’s.Duluth handles murders, and I have experience with those cases, but not with someone who seems to have an established M.O.and a preferred target profile.Those are also indications that we’re dealing with a serial killer.”

“Yes,” Faith agreed.

Technically, the killer was a spree killer since the concentration of deaths in a short amount of time fit the FBI’s differential criterion for a spree killer versus a serial killer, but since the Donkey Killer case, the terms had more or less merged to describe anyone who killed multiple victims with an established and organized M.O.and a preferred profile.

Finding that preferred profile was usually the difficult part, but here it was easy.Someone was targeting K9 handlers.The question was, why these particular handlers?

Faith reached back and scratched Turk under his jaw.“Someone’s coming after our own, boy.It’s up to us to stop them.”

Turk dipped his head in acknowledgment.His eyes wore a serious expression, almost as though he knew that the threat they were facing could by its very nature be greater than any they’d experienced so far.

And he was just as determined as Faith was to put an end to it.

CHAPTER THREE

The US Army Reserve Center was a small property on the shores of Lake Superior.It contained two central collections of buildings and a one-acre grass field with a dirt track encircling it.Marcus parked the truck next to that field and led Faith into the nearest building."Staff Sergeant Walsh was found in that field along with his dog this morning.His body was frozen solid, and the dog was nearly there."

“So he would have had to be dead for several hours,” Faith surmised.

Marcus chuckled.“No, not in this cold.He could have frozen within thirty minutes.The real miracle is that his dog didn’t freeze.”

The two of them walked inside and found a young female officer who couldn’t be more than twenty-five talking to a desk sergeant who appeared about five years older.Both of them looked exhausted and stressed, an understandable state of mind given what had happened to them only the night before.

The officer looked up at them and told the desk sergeant, “I’ll be unavailable for a little while unless it’s General Hollis.Then I’ll try to be unavailable, but you know how it goes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the desk sergeant replied.

The officer approached the two investigators and extended her hand.“Good evening.I’m First Lieutenant Rebecca Torres.I was Walsh’s platoon commander.”

"Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Torres," Faith replied."I'm sorry for your platoon's loss."

Torres’s lip trembled slightly.Maybe this was more than a professional loss for her.She maintained her composure well, though, and gestured for them to follow her outside.

“It was his turn for night security,” she explained.“He elected to bring Rooster with him on patrol.I left for home at nine p.m.and returned at six a.m.There were coyotes in the field, so I figured they’d brought a deer down, but when I walked over to chase them off, I discovered…” Her breath hitched.“I discovered his body.”

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