Page 35 of The Grave Between Us
“I’m impressed, though,” Ian said, “with you. With how much you’re thinking about me. Almost as much as I think about you, it seems.”
Cole said nothing.
“No, you can’t have him,” Ian finally said, shaking his head. “But you deserve something for all that effort. I’ll give you someone else instead.”
Cole grabbed his pencil, his notepad. “What’s his name?”
Ian shook his head, smiling. “No name. Impress me again, Cole, and bring me his name yourself. I’ll tell you what happened if you bring me the rest.”
It wasn’t ideal, but it was something. He waited.
“I took a man while he was camping. This was primitive camping, deep in the woods. I’d watched him for two days, following him on the trail. He had no idea I was there. He thought he was alone. He wasn’t, but we were. I spent three days with him. It was summer, so I wasn’t able to spend more time with him than that.”
Cole’s pencil tip squeaked as Ian’s meaning hit him. Decomposition, putrefaction. Corpses turned quickly in the heat. Ian couldn’t have sex with his victims’ bodies for long in summer. Maybe that’s why he’d been greedy with Nelson Miller. He’d needed his fix, and the air had been cool.
“I left his campsite but moved his car when I came down out of the mountains. He was reported missing a few days later, but without his car, the search was unfocused. Then, after his car was found, I watched searchers scour the wrong mountain for weeks.” Ian smiled. “He’s right where I left him.”
“Where?”
Silence.
“How did you leave him? On the surface? Buried in a grave? Is he whole, or did you dismember him?”
“He was whole when I left him.”
“On the surface?”
“No,” Ian allowed. “He’s buried. Not too deeply, so I’m not sure if he’s still exactly where I left him. I like to visit my men for a while, when I can, but sometimes animals like to visit, too. Sometimes that’s why I need to move on, when there’s nothing left to visit and all I have is what I keep inside me.”
Man who was camping, wilderness, alone, multiple days. Not expected back for a week. Car not where expected. Camp, if found, undisturbed.
“How far from his campsite did you bury his body?”
“Not far. Where I usually like to leave them.”
Cole blinked. “Will you tell me his age? His race?”
“No. I want to see you work for this. Show me you’re worthy to know my men.”
And that was it. As soon as Ian started with the smug superiority, Cole ended the session. He smiled, grabbed his pad, pencil, and coffee, and stood. “I’ll go get you that paper you want.”
“Are you going to take your portrait?” Ian held out his drawing as Cole headed for the door.
“Of course.” He took it with a smile.
“Good luck, Cole. I hope you find him and bring him back to me.”
* * *
Searchingfor Ian’s victim wasn’t easy. They had no time frame, no location, nothing but circumstances to base their search around. Hundreds of campers went missing every year, most of them men. The volume of data the team had to sift through wore on everyone, fraying tempers.
“I think we’re hunting in the wrong place,” Cole said late one night when he and McHugh were alone in the office, staring at the files stacked in front of them. “We’re searching in Northern California because that’s where Shane DeGrassi was. But it would be just like Ian to have us chasing our tails, assuming we need to search in California when we should be looking somewhere else.” Cole paced in front of their giant map, his eyes flicking from pushpin forest to pushpin forest. California, Arizona, New Mexico. The Texas plains, Oklahoma… “What about there? The Ozarks. Northern Arkansas. Let’s hunt a bit there.”
“Man, do you hear yourself?” McHugh had snapped. “Can you even tell what’s happening to you?”
Cole had stilled, staring at him.
“That, too!” McHugh jumped to his feet, his chair sliding back on squeaking wheels. “You’re starting to act like him! Going all unnaturally still. You use his verbiage, too, did you know that? I’m trying to search for Ingram’s victim, and you’rehunting.” He used air quotes as he spoke, sneering. “And you use his first time. It’s Ian this and Ian that, Ian Ian Ian. He’s a killer, Cole. You can call him by his last name, like we do for every other criminal.”
