Page 18 of Their Wicked Games

“That depends on who you are.” Ripley eyed them with suspicion. “How exactly did you get my room number?”

“We used our creds.” Jo held up her cred pack. “Please open the door, Mr. Ripley.”

“Why do you want to speak to me?” Ripley open the door a little wider and looked from one to the other.

“Can we come in?” Jo’s face showed no emotion whatsoever. “We’ve been trying to locate a friend of yours, Alicia Palmer. We dropped by her place of work and her home and she’s not there. Her phone has been switched off and we’re concerned about her welfare.”

“No, you can’t come in and I don’t know where she is.” Ripley shrugged. “It’s not as if she’s a girlfriend or anything. She’s way older than me and we shoot together sometimes, is all. She does have other friends apart from me. She likes to hunt and I prefer targets. We don’t hang out socially.”

“Do you know any of her other friends?” Jo held a pen above her notebook and stared at him. “Can you give me any names?”

“Not really. I don’t socialize with her crowd.” Ripley snorted. “Like I said, she’s older than me. Maybe ask some of her old college friends.”

Unable to stop himself, Carter leaned in a little closer. “We were told she went into the forest yesterday morning to do some target practice. Maybe she was hurt. Do you know where she went? When did you last see her?”

“It would be difficult to get injured during target practice.” Ripley chuckled. “The last time I saw her was when we practiced on the range about a week ago. Before you ask, no, she didn’t tell me what was on her social calendar for the week.”

“Were you in the forest at all this week?” Jo made a few notes and then looked at him.

“Nope.” Ripley sighed. “I’ve been here all week, apart from when I run out of junk food.” He stared at them. “Is that all? I’m playing online.”

“That’s all for now.” Jo handed him a card. “If you hear from her, give me a call.”

“Why do you want to speak to her?” Ripley pushed a hand through his untidy hair. “Is she in trouble with the law?”

Carter shook his head. “Nope.”

“You went to the same high school as Leo Kelly, Zoe Ward, and Ash Rogers. Are they friends of yours?” Jo raised her pen expectantly.

“Nope, and you’re wasting your time if you figure they’re Alicia’s friends. She doesn’t like teenagers. She barely copes with having me around at competitions.” Ripley shook his head. “You olds don’t understand the way of things, do you? Gamers don’t need friends. We live online. Offline, my spare time is devoted to crossbow target shooting. It’s my exercise, if you like, but apart from that, I spend all my time developing games. That’s where the money is and I aim to get my fair share.”

Carter turned away. “Okay. Thank you for your time.”

As they walked back to the cruiser, Carter turned to look at Jo’s concerned expression. “I figure we handled that pretty well. Did you get anything from him?” He tossed a toothpick into his mouth.

“Well, if you were expecting a psychopathic reaction from him, you’d be disappointed.” Jo tucked the statement book under one arm. “This crime doesn’t display any psychopathic tendencies or makes me believe that they’re the work of a serial killer. I’m still convinced this was some type of organized thrill kill.” She shrugged. “After speaking to Rowley about the location of the murders, he informed me only one or two people go there. The falls has a sheer drop on that side. There is a fishing hole at the bottom of the falls they call Dead Man’s Drop, because people have fallen from many places along that edge. He said, because of the very low volume of hikers in that area, it wouldn’t be feasible for three shooters to space themselves out and wait for the opportunity to kill a passerby. This tells me it was an organized kill, which opens up realms of possibilities.”

Carter opened the back door to the cruiser to allow Zorro to jump inside. He regarded Jo over the roof of the vehicle. “How so?”

“We’ve already discussed the murders as a warning to the parents. This is still a possibility, but don’t discount the fact that a group of people might plan to kill a bunch of kids for fun. It’s harrowing but it does happen.” Jo folded her arms across her chest, fingers gripping the statement book. “The thing is, if they knew the exact time the kids planned to be on the trail, they must know them to have access to their social media.”

Thrill kills meant that the killers were unpredictable, volatile people who could snap at a second’s notice. Something in Carter’s gut told him that this was the case here. “Well, Ripley knows the victims but I’m not sure if he’s involved. He came over as defensive.”

“So, the opposite of what you’d expect from a serial killer.” Jo smiled. “That isn’t reason to discount him, as we’re not looking for a serial killer personality in this case. Ripley has freedom of movement, no parents to check on him. He can come and go as he pleases, so in fact, he could be anywhere, and unless someone has seen him, who’s to know?”

Carter nodded and swung inside the cruiser. He waited for Jo to fasten her seatbelt. “He has the skill set, and knowing his background in IT, likely has the knowledge to wipe out or disguise any incriminating communications between the group responsible.”

“Okay.” Jo wrote in her notebook. “I’ll do a more detailed profile on him when we get back to the office.” She pulled out her phone and called Alicia again. “I’m getting the same message. Do you think we should head through the forest and see if we can find her?”

Carter started the engine. “Nah.” He swung the cruiser around and they headed back to town. “We’d never find her, and as it’s a designated elk-hunting area, we should stay clear. “He picked up the radio and called Maggie. “We’re leaving the college now, but we’ll be stopping in town.” He waited for her response and looked at Jo. “Jenna and Kane haven’t returned to the office yet. Want to drop by Aunt Betty’s Café?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Jo smiled. “I’m famished.”

EIGHTEEN

Rowley disentangled himself from his twins, Cooper and Vannah, and placed them back inside their stroller. He might be on duty, but meeting his wife, Sandy, outside the general store was a common occurrence. After enrolling the twins in a play group, held in one of the reception rooms in the town hall, he was seeing more of them than ever before. He grinned at Sandy and waved the finger-painting Cooper had given him. “I had no idea they did this sort of thing at this age.”

“This is why I’m taking them to the play group.” Sandy hoisted Vannah on one hip. “It’s all very well raising them on a ranch, but they need interaction with children of their own age. This way, they get to do kid stuff.”

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