Page 25 of A Song for the Dead

It’s fortunate morning frost coated the grass when I left for work this morning. The freezing temperatures will keep Daisy fresh, and once I’d packed other bags around her, I was able to carry on as usual. My job takes me over three counties and moving around made life easy, especially around Halloween. I’ve established a presence in Black Rock Falls, Louan, and Blackwater since returning. People have gotten used to seeing me around. In fact, I’ve become one of the invisible people working around the towns and there are so many. My occupation gives me the opportunity to sit in my vehicle and observe people. None of my offerings were chosen without deliberation and many make up my list by the end of each year. The only problem I’ve encountered is the need to kill. At first, when I read about all the people who went missing every year, I honestly believed that everyone was just like me. There is, after all, so many reasons to kill someone. I’ve seen terrorists mowing down people in their trucks, bombing buildings, but I don’t understand why they do it. Most of them take their own lives, so where’s the thrill in that? I’ve watched shows about crimes of passion, hate crimes, but I don’t have passion or hate for anyone, so I figure I kill because I enjoy it. After reading the stories about serial killers being arrested for their murders, especially by Sheriff Alton, I’d laughed.She’ll never catch me.

With everything possible to read about trace evidence and DNA on the internet and mentioned on every cop show, only a fool would get caught. I pull alongside the curb, climb from my truck, and go into Aunt Betty’s Café. I’ve finished for the day and would grab a bite to eat and make sure Wendy was following her new schedule. I smile, a few little scares and she’d changed her shift. Now, with her home before dark, she followed a normal pattern. So far, she’d been a creature of habit, heading for a shower before bed at around ten. The dog is still at the vet. I had intended to kill it with the slow-acting poison because I couldn’t allow anything to come between me and Wendy.

As I eat, my mind drifts to Daisy, waiting patiently in my vehicle, but she’ll just have to bide her time. I need to make sure I follow a routine too. I want people to see me at certain times and in various places, on the off chance I make a mistake and set the cops on my tail. Alibis with witnesses mean I can keep doing what I enjoy for as long as possible. Although I have faith in my system, in Black Rock Falls, the sheriff will always be a problem, so when it all becomes too much for me, I’ll head to any city, find a sex worker or maybe a homeless person, and take out my frustration. The fact they breathe my air is enough of an excuse to kill them and leave them without a decent burial. I’ve left them on beaches, tossed them into rivers and in ditches during snowfall. Snow was the universal cleanser, covering all my sins with white and hiding them for months at a time. The chances of anyone blaming me for the murders would be remote as I’m always long gone before the melt.

Earlier I drove past two of the deputies flying drones over the forest. I’d laughed. They could well be looking for graves. By now everyone knew that Freya was missing and I’d seen the medical examiner’s van and sheriff’s vehicles parked along a fire road. They’d found the first three from so long ago I’d forgotten their names. A shiver of excitement curled in my belly at the thought of the sheriff listening to their last breaths. I must find the recordings and listen to them again. It had been years, but hearing them again would be just like being there. I could relive everything, smell the blood, and feel the knife in my hands. Hearing the funny little gasps as each one died would be wonderful.

Sighing, I turn onto a hard-packed entrance to another fire road. This one takes me away from the original gravesite to my new place. Watching the deputies with the drones, as one of many interested onlookers, it seemed from their current search area they’ve worked out I buried my offerings in a triangle. I suppose I should give them kudos for that, but after seven years if they really figure I’d go back to the old burial site and plant Freya in the unfinished grave, they didn’t have a clue. I’m not that stupid. First of all, it didn’t matter if they’d noticed the graves formed a triangle. I’d marked out a sacred circle on the map and inside I can fit many triangles. In fact, I can take any point from one of my original gravesites and create a new triangle. So many variants, such a massive forest. The possibilities are endless. I pull into a small offshoot between a clump of trees. The canopy above is so covered with vines my vehicle is invisible from prying eyes. I listen to the noise of the forest and smile. I’ve gotten stronger digging graves and carrying bodies. Maybe I’ll start working out after Halloween. One more and the offering would be complete, and I’d have nine more years of protection. As I drag the bag containing Daisy’s body from my vehicle, I glance up at the sky. Spring would have a deity, some old forgotten god who’d be grateful for an offering after so long. They’d welcome me with open arms. I can almost hear them making a bargain with me already and I didn’t even know their name. I hoist the bag into my arms and move silently along a narrow animal trail. Perhaps, I’ll research more of the old ones. Why wait until Halloween when there were three other seasons?

THIRTY-TWO

Once Wolfe’s team had processed the scene, Jenna followed Kane inside with Jo and Carter close behind. Both dogs sat beside the Beast watching the goings-on with alert interest. Jenna surveyed Daisy’s bedroom and bathroom. “It’s like déjà vu or a recurring nightmare. This and all the crime scene photographs are the same, right down to the drag marks on the carpet or tile. This has to be the same guy. I figure he’s a big guy to carry a body into the forest and bury it.”

“The victims are all small women, light, so this doesn’t necessarily mean this is a big strong man. If the perpetrator did heavy manual work, he might be small but as strong as a bear. How many guys do you see hauling their kills through the forest across their shoulders? It’s not that unusual.” Carter tipped back his Stetson and shrugged. “The thing I’m wondering is how old he is. Usually, these abductor type killers start in their late teens, early twenties, and Jo figured this guy has been doing this for a while. We could be looking at a man anywhere between thirty and fifty.”

“Yeah, but if he’s small, he’d need to be in good shape.” Kane rubbed his chin. “Hauling one hundred to one-twenty pounds of dead weight a mile or so wouldn’t be easy if the body was in a fetal position inside a bag.” He looked at Carter. “If he’s dragging it or carrying it in both arms, it would be difficult to negotiate through the forest.”

“No way. You’re overthinking what it’s like to be a small guy. He could carry more than you imagine.” Carter smiled at him. “How far could you carry me over one shoulder through the same terrain? I weigh approximately two hundred and twenty pounds.”

“That’s beside the point.” Kane shrugged. “I’m six-five and two hundred and seventy. You couldn’t make a valid comparison without knowing the guy’s physique.”

Interested by Carter’s amused expression, Jenna looked from one to the other. “I’d like to know the answer.”

“The answer is Dave would be able to carry me over his shoulder wearing his backpack, carrying weapons and ammo, which alone would weigh about one-twenty, for over five miles without breaking a sweat.” Carter smiled. “Knowing Dave as I do, he’d carry me to safety if it meant walking twenty miles.”

Understanding this was a shared military moment between the pair of them, Jenna looked at Jo. “Add the adrenaline spike and a smaller guy in good shape would have no trouble. Right?”

“I’ve seen killers do remarkable things and I wouldn’t count anyone out.” Jo sighed. “Have we found any suspects?”

Nodding, Jenna frowned. “A few possibles. Dave, what do you think?”

“I figure it’s a guy around five-ten.” Kane met her gaze. “Going on the blood smear on the back doorframe and if he was carrying her in his arms.”

Taking in all the back-and-forth like a sponge, Jenna turned to Carter. “What do you make of it now?”

“In my humble opinion, yeah, Dave could be right, but don’t discount a smaller guy.” Carter shrugged. “You done here? The smell is seeping into my clothes.”

Considering everything that was said, Jenna led the way back to the vehicles. Everyone had left, leaving the Beast and Jenna’s cruiser parked alongside Daisy’s vehicle. With the team all expecting her to pull a rabbit out of the hat, she explained the lack of possible witnesses. “We received a call on the hotline and we wanted to speak to Hank Maxwell, mainly because I had a hunch he might be trying to insert himself into the investigation. He might just be trying to help but no one can find his cabin. We’ll go and search for him with Blackhawk later, but he’s not a priority.”

“I’m wondering if there’s a link between the women?” Kane rubbed Duke’s ears as the dog leaned against his leg. “From what Jenna got from Daisy’s housemate, she didn’t know Freya, but what do they have in common that could link them together? Daisy worked at the Triple Z Roadhouse, and Freya cleaned all over but regularly at the beauty parlor.”

“Men visit both locations, and I’d say if both women buy pizza, there’s a possibility they could run into people they see there every Saturday evening. Not friends but maybe people they all speak to.” Jo shrugged. “This killer makes choices, very skilled choices. He must come into contact with the victims.”

Thinking over the information, Jenna nodded. “Yeah, we’re going about this all wrong. The workplace has to be the link. We need to discover who would visit and how often. I’m thinking delivery drivers more than customers. We need a list of all regular deliveries over the past two months and if the drivers come into contact with the victims.”

“That leaves the guy from the pizzeria, Frank Stark.” Kane’s lips flattened. “He used the restaurant to watch Freya. We need to track him down. I figure he’s a priority. The only loose end is Elliot Cummings, who knows Freya from her job stacking shelves at the general store. We haven’t found him yet either. It’s kinda convenient he’s gone missing too.”

Jenna looked at Carter. “He’s a photographer as well, so could be anywhere. We’ve spoken to the manager of the general store and he never saw Cummings harassing Freya.” She blew out her breath in a sigh. “He is a person of interest, is all.”

“Okay, give us the info and we’ll find Cummings and then head to the Triple Z Roadhouse and speak to them about who Daisy came into contact with regularly.” Carter smiled. “If we strike out, we’ll call and help you with the other leads.”

“Okay, well, find Frank Stark and drop by the beauty parlor.” Kane straightened and opened the back door of his truck for Duke. “Maybe Freya was alone during a delivery. Some of them do deliver after hours.”

Checking her watch, Jenna nodded. “We’ll meet at Aunt Betty’s at one and take it from there.” She climbed into the Beast and looked at Kane. “I’m guessing you’ll need to be refueled about then?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Kane smiled at her. “There’s coffee in the Thermos. I never leave home without it.”

Shaking her head, Jenna stared at him. “Are you reading my mind now?”

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