Page 37 of Their Haunted Hearts
Thirty-Six
Rio’s words percolated through Jenna’s mind as she waited for Wolfe and his team to process the scene. The killer had suddenly become more dangerous. It was obvious that he was living some deluded fantasy about vampires but how did Jenna’s team come into the equation? She’d spent some time over the last couple of days reading as much information about this type of unusual behavior as possible. She wanted to get inside his mind to discover his next move but that was proving more difficult by the moment. This killer wasn’t following any particular behavior. She didn’t know if he drank the victim’s blood because he believed it gave him power or if he was influenced by myths and legends or books that he’d read.
It seemed, like most of the serial killers they’d hunted down, this guy had his own individual fantasy when it came to murder and he was using the vampire slaying as an excuse. During her time dealing with serial killers, she’d discovered that all of them had blamed somebody else for what they’d done. None of them could admit the fact that they were mentally ill. Many of them believed that what they were doing was happening everywhere else in the world and nobody cared. In fact, many of them believed people should be grateful.
As Rio and Webber carried the body to Wolfe’s van, she hurried to his side. “It looks the same as the others, doesn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so.” Wolfe scanned the corn maze. “He sure knows how to select a place where it’s difficult to leave any evidence.” He indicated to the ground. “This walkway is so littered with debris that I’d never be able to prove anything we found here belonged to the killer. I wonder how many people have been walking up and down placing the props and Halloween decorations in the last week.” He looked at Jenna. “Do you have any suspects?”
Nodding, Jenna followed him back to the road with Kane close behind. “Yeah, we have a couple that look promising but everything we have on them is circumstantial evidence. It doesn’t make the investigation any easier. Unless I have someone stake out the roadhouse over the next few days and hope he strikes again. However, we don’t know for sure if that’s his hunting area. He seems to be changing it up each time.”
“I’m hoping that we’ll get more information from the victims’ local law enforcement agencies over the next few days.” Kane moved beside Wolfe. “If we get some idea of why the women were in Black Rock Falls, maybe we’ll be able to trace exactly where he ran into them.”
“It could be totally random.” Wolfe removed his gloves, balled them up and shoved them into his pocket. “I’ve read about killers like him, whose fantasies are triggered by certain people. They have a type. In this case, maybe, he sees a thin pale-skinned woman and something in his twisted mind tells him she is a vampire and needs to be staked. He believes he is saving people by removing her from society.”
“Maybe he’s been reading too many vampire slayer books and it’s an identity problem.” Kane rubbed his chin. “We’ve dealt with another Halloween killer who believed by murdering young women at Halloween, he gained years on his life. He must have gotten that idea from a novel. Now we have this one, who by his ritual must believe he’s preventing the vampires rising the next morning. The thing is, he’s got his story mixed up. In all the stories I’ve read about vampires, it takes a vampire to create one.”
Jenna nodded. “True, so do you believe this killer created his own vampire bloodletting machine, or whatever, and believes he’s a vampire?”
“Then he’d be creating them, not murdering them.” Kane rubbed his chin. “If that’s his motive, it doesn’t make sense.”
“Ha, y’all can’t make these people logical.” Wolfe leaned against his van. “Their minds work in a way necessary for them to validate murder. He sees vampires as a particular type of woman. I figure he is consumed with the old movie type of female vampire, with long hair and flowing white gowns, so he creates one in that image and believes by draining her blood and staking her, he’s saving her from damnation.”
Running a hand through her hair, Jenna stared at him. “By murdering her?”
“Unfortunately, yeah, I believe so, but what makes sense to us means nothing. He might see his reason for killing completely differently. There’s no logic in what they do—that’s what I’ve deduced over the years working with you, Jenna. Their minds work on a completely different plane to ours.” Wolfe pushed away from the van. “It’s late. I’ll call you in the morning and we’ll schedule an autopsy.” He wiped a hand down his weary face. “Another family lost a daughter tonight. The killer must have left a clue behind, something we can use to stop him. If it’s there, I’ll find it.”
Thirty-Seven
Helena
Friday
Zipping up her jacket against the cold wind, Julie Wolfe stepped down from the bus and followed the others toward the conference hall. She’d spent the last two weeks at a child-focused conference in Helena to explore ideas for her career. She had her degree in psychology and needed to know which were the best options for her going forward. Some of the interesting jobs she could work toward were in the Child Protective Services or as a family support specialist. It had been difficult to make any type of decision. She didn’t have her sister Emily’s drive to become a medical examiner and had been making up her mind for ages.
Since moving to Black Rock Falls after her mother died of cancer, she had seen how many children were abused in the foster system throughout the country. Due to Jenna’s diligence this type of abuse didn’t happen in Black Rock Falls, but children still needed a voice in their future. She had been seriously considering becoming a youth advocacy coordinator. The idea of supporting young people and ensuring they have access to resources, education, and protection would make her happy. She could obtain certifications in youth advocacy and child welfare to strengthen her qualifications before applying for a suitable position. After attending keynote speeches, she decided to join a networking roundtable, where she’d have the opportunity to speak to professionals one-on-one.
As she headed toward the door of the conference center, a motorcycle roared into the parking lot. A man dressed in all leather slid from the back of his Harley like a black snake. He removed his helmet and smoothed his collar-length glossy hair as he turned to look at her. Julie’s stomach gave a twist at the thought of what her father would say if he knew she’d been talking to a bad-boy biker. She’d met Rhett Lawson when he’d sat beside her in most of the same seminars. He’d mentioned studying at MU and, like her, he couldn’t make up his mind which career path to follow. They’d got to chatting and she’d discovered that he’d been raised in many foster homes and had vowed to make sure no child had to endure what he’d suffered after his parents died in a plane crash when he was just two years old. There were many students from MU at the conference but they seemed to avoid him like the plague. Two girls she’d known for years warned her not to speak to him, saying he had a bad reputation. Julie made up her own mind about people and had found Rhett to be quiet, softly spoken, and incredibly smart. He was two years her senior but she wasn’t planning on marrying him.
Julie lifted a hand to wave at him and caught a flash of white when he smiled. “Fancy seeing you here again. Are you interested in pursuing a career in youth advocacy or counseling?”
“In fact, I am.” Rhett shrugged. “I’m overqualified. I already have a couple of degrees up my sleeve and the counselors keep trying to push me in different directions but it’s not what I want to do.” He chuckled. “They figure I don’t fit the mold of a counselor because of how I look and the snake tattoo looped around my arm.” He walked backward, watching her as if gauging her reaction. “What they don’t understand is kids who were raised like me don’t trust suits or the school principal types. They relate to guys like me, and I can help them. I just need someone to give me a chance to prove it.”
Concerned by the lack of understanding he’d received his entire life, Julie frowned. “You’re highly qualified and that counts more than what you look like.” She waved a hand in the air. “You should see the deputies riding around Black Rock Falls on the weekends, all in leather and riding old Harleys. They have their own biker club—my dad is a medical examiner and he’s right there in the thick of it. Maybe that’s where you should apply for a job. I am and I know they are crying out for suitable staff for the Her Broken Wings Foundation. They work with women from abusive relationships and traumatized kids all the time.”
“That sounds like a plan.” Rhett grabbed his things from the saddlebags. “Black Rock Falls, huh? Now that’s a coincidence. My folks came from there. I don’t know anything about the place but they ran cattle and a trustee is in control right now. Maybe when I turn twenty-five, I’ll go and see what my inheritance looks like.”
Julie smiled. “It’s a beautiful place to live but has a problem with serial killers.” She sighed. “It’s the kids I want to help. I always have and now I figure I’ve finally found my path in life.”
“I’ll buy you lunch if we can discuss Black Rock Falls and the foundation.” Rhett gave his head a slight shake. “It’s strange how my roots are in the town where you live. Maybe we were meant to cross paths?”
Laughing, Julie walked beside him. “They say spooky things happen over Halloween but this is my last day in Helena. I’m flying out late tonight.”
“Then if you don’t mind exchanging numbers, I’d love to keep in touch.” Rhett pushed black hair from his face. “It’s been really great chatting to you this week, Julie.”
Wondering if her dad would approve of Rhett, Julie pushed the concern to one side and smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Thirty-Eight
