Page 13 of Serial Love

“Anything specific you can give us?” Jack prodded, his frustration showing.

Shirley smiled indulgently, hearing the irritation in his voice even though she could not see him. “Profiling is an inexact science. But yes, this is what I can surmise. The three girls whose bodies were found were sexually assaulted so that does give us a clue into the killer’s motivation. While it does not mean he was motivated by sex, it does indicate a high probability he was not motivated by money or just a thrill. He could be sexually impotent or sexually angry. But not necessarily. Because the three girls were mutilated with what appears to be the same knife, it’s as though he is trying to mark them, or change them, if you will.”

“Change them?” Monty asked.

“Yes. Some serial killers hate something about their victims and in mutilating them, they see the act as erasing whatever is bothering them.”

“That could be a tie-in—something all three have in common that is upsetting to the killer?” Jack surmised.

Shirley nodded her acquiescence. “Absolutely. And it’s not usually something simple like body type, although it could be. With the viciousness in which heviolates the bodies, I would also surmise that not only is the killer sexually motivated, but anger is also a motivation. Perhaps there was neglect or abuse in their childhood. Considering we have at least one witness identifying a possible suspect in the bar chatting up Tonya, I would even consider psychopathy as a very probable diagnosis. This is using charm, manipulation, and then violence to satisfy their needs.”

“Goddamn,” Marc cursed before quickly apologizing.

“No need to apologize on my account,” Shirley stated. “In closing, gentlemen, I would say we are looking for a male, thirty to fifty years old, who may have poor behavior control, early childhood behavioral problems, possible juvenile delinquency, and exhibits a complete lack of remorse concerning their actions.”

Shirley was quiet for a moment before continuing. “Mr. Bryant, I don’t know much about your organization, but I do know Monty. He was one of our best, but I know the Bureau’s sometimes cumbersome hierarchy was the tipping point that finally made him leave and join your company. It’s my understanding that you…um…fly under the regulation radar…if that is a good way of putting it?”

Jack chuckled. “That would be a perfectly good description.”

She nodded. “Please don’t be offended by this. You have a great deal of latitude in your investigations, which will make it easier for you to ascertain information. But the special information also gives you greater responsibility. The killer will strike again and while theBureau is placing the highest priority on this case, we know he may kill again before we can catch him. Make sure whatever you find is shared. None of us wants the killer to get away due to faulty information gathering.”

“Understood, Ms. Kerstig,” he agreed.

The conference continued on for several more minutes before they ended the call with the profiler. Monty looked around the room, stating, “Shirley knows her shit, but I swear this is about as clear as mud, as my momma used to say.”

The others agreed. No discernable personality trait of the killer they could pinpoint at this time.

Jack said, “While Luke is still collating the evidence, the rest of you will be assigned to continue the investigation and we need to make sure our location is secure. Chad, I’d like you and Cam to stay with me to work on the perimeter. I also need to file an initial report with the Governor. Bart and Blaise, you head to Tech and Eastburg campuses to see what you can dig up on the missing girls from there. Monty and Marc, you take Western VA community college, and Blue Ridge. You know the drill—get whatever information you can, however you need to get it.” Giving them a little grin, he added, “Just don’t get caught.”

The others chuckled, knowing Bart especially enjoyed breaking into wherever he needed to, and so far, his luck had held out.

Jack finished by saying, “Now, with added information and a little more idea of what we may be looking for, let’s see what we can find even though the trail may be cold.”

6

Sally, an old friend of Bethany’s mother, came into the lodge on Saturday morning, gathering clean linens to put on the cabins’ beds. Her brown hair, streaked with gray, was efficiently pulled back as she stooped and bent to handle the laundry. A medical receptionist, she retired early at fifty-five when her last child left for college but loved to stay busy helping out at the cabins where she and Bethany’s mother had played as children.

Mountville’s weekly rentals ran from Saturday to Saturday, although if space was available Bethany would accommodate other days. Sometimes guests came on Friday for the weekend and would check out on Sunday. During the summer months, most of her cabins were filled with renters who stayed for the entire week, but occasionally she would have room for a weekend visitor.

Tossing the soiled linens into the bin, Sally walked to the closet to grab the clean ones before heading back to the cabins. Since Bethany was out and about, Sallyhad Ann with her. It seemed to spark Ann’s memories when she was helping in the cabins. While Sally cleaned, Ann would help a little and reminisce about the guests she remembered over the years.

“Come on, Ann. We’re heading to cabin four now,” Sally said. Ann smiled and followed the woman to the golf cart they used to drive around the area. Sally buckled Ann in, not sure if she would stay on her own.

“Oh, I remember cabin four,” Ann exclaimed, joy written on her face. “We finished this one in 1963. Martin fell off the roof when trying to put the shingles on. I was pregnant at the time and as soon as I heard him yell, I skedaddled right up here.”

“Was he hurt bad?” Sally asked.

“Oh no. Mostly his pride, I expect,” Ann answered, still chuckling at the memory. “I haven’t seen him today.”

Sally, knowing that Martin had passed away three years ago, just said, “I saw him earlier. He’ll be around later.” It seemed strange to lie to the older woman, but Bethany had attended a seminar on Alzheimer’s and Dementia and it was emphasized that instead of insisting the person was wrong, it was better to give them a simple answer that would placate them.

The two women passed Bethany as she was heading to the dock. Giving a wave to the young woman, they continued on to the cabins. Ann’s clarity returned as she said wistfully, “I wish my granddaughter could find someone to take care of her. She works too hard.”

Sally glanced to the side, saying nothing but agreeing with her friend.

Bethany finished tying the paddle boats to the dock, making sure the rules were clearly posted. Stubbing her shoe on a raised nail, she pulled out the hammer she kept in the tool chest that she carried around with her. A few pounds and the nail was once again flush with the wood. Glancing around, she found a few more that needed to be hammered into place.Maybe next year we can replace the dock and use screws instead of nails.

The summer storm that had passed by a couple of days ago left a few tree branches hanging down over the path. She strolled along the trail toward the lodge to get a saw when she spied Horace pulling up in his old car.

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