Page 9 of A Song for the Dead

“The frenzied attack makes it personal.” Kane rubbed the back of his neck. “We haven’t found this woman, but from what we heard, he hurt her before cutting her throat and then went into overkill. He knew her and her movements.”

Unconvinced, Jenna ran the scenario back through her mind. “Maybe in his mind, but I don’t figure she knows him, otherwise when he snuck up on her in the bathroom, she’d have said something like, ‘What are you doing here, Bob?’ and she’d have used his name when he attacked her. ‘Stop it, Bob.’ Or ‘What have I ever done to you?’” She thought for a beat. “She was terrified, speechless with fear, and I don’t think she knew him.”

“Yeah, but it’s Halloween and this is likely the Halloween Slasher. The timeline fits and, if it is, thinking on what Wendy said about seeing someone wearing a mask and peering through her window made me think the Halloween Slasher could be wearing a mask when he kills.” Kane sighed. “If it was around Halloween, just like here, there are idiots running around trying to frighten people at night. If someone saw him hanging around in a mask, they wouldn’t take much notice, would they?”

The mask idea made sense and Jenna nodded. “And she’d be terrified if a naked masked man crept up behind her with a knife.” She indicated to Wolfe to proceed. “Let’s hear the rest.”

More grunts and the sound of something being dragged across the carpet and then a chuckle before the recording stopped. Looking from one to the other, Jenna sucked in a deep breath and leaned back in the chair. “He went back to the bathroom to get the phone.”

“I figure he made sure he had no blood on him, dressed, and took the soiled towels with him.” Wolfe rubbed a fist under his nose. “I did notice the lack of towels in Freya Richardson’s bathroom. Most people have more than two. Her closet was empty. It’s the same MO as the cold case. Seems to me the Halloween Slasher is right here in Black Rock Falls.”

ELEVEN

My year is divided into sections of good, bad, and better. Winter is a problem. The snow leaves tracks, the ground is hard, and as the years go by, I’m finding it more difficult to drag bodies around. Last winter, I started working out at the gym, rebuilding my body back to the shape it was when I was in my early twenties. I’m looking good, and although women come and go, most of them find me attractive, but the divorced and spinster types don’t really interest me. I yearn for younger women and befriend any I can find. I take an entire year to make my selection. I first moved to Montana over ten years ago and became known as the Halloween Slasher. I have to admit that boosted my ego. Watching the cops run around hunting down bodies long buried and forgotten had amused me. I had a grand plan that last year in Black Rock Falls. All my offerings had been lined up in a row and one grave partially dug. It was going so well and then disaster had struck. Floods and mudslides had prevented me finishing. In desperation, I’d packed up and headed for another suitable location, but during all those years away, I’d been limited to offerings and in between Halloweens. I turned to killing sex workers, but I’d been stupid and, instead of burying them, had dumped them anywhere. The cops had almost caught me numerous times, and I’d moved on just in time before the net closed. Now, I understood the way of things. I’d listened to the voices. The forest was calling to me to return and now I’m able to continue where I’d left off.

I use my charm to make friends. You see, I live on a higher plane than other men, but acting like a regular guy out with his friends makes it easy to get closer to women. A man alone is always suspicious. Especially as I deliberate on each choice for my Halloween offerings. I prefer a slightly built woman, only because she’s easier to carry. A body being a dead weight and all. She must live alone, preferably without a dog, but I can deal with dogs if necessary. A remote area is a plus, but I have the skill to sneak into most places without being noticed, especially in Black Rock Falls. Here, shadows bathe the sidewalks. The town is filled with tall pines, cottonwood trees, and the occasional maple that spill leopard-spot or zebra-stripe shadows over the sidewalks and alleyways. Then there is the mist and with the practically nonexistent and widely spaced streetlights offering only a small orange or yellow glow, it’s perfect. Not that lights bother me, or CCTV cameras. Carrying a laser pointer and other small gadgets all easily purchased online makes me invisible and breaking into a house or apartment easy. Watching women is as easy as installing a camera on a window ledge or across the way. The clarity and sound being so good these days, I set and forget and go through the video files at my leisure or watch on my phone. Yeah, technology is my friend.

I made the acquaintance of Daisy Lyon some months ago. She’d given me a coy smile at first and then, just like all the others, ignored me. I’ve seen her talking to her friends, flirting with younger men, and playing nice. They all started out being like that, or was it all a pretense? Was it a game women of that age played? Did they tease and then dismiss men as if they had no value? I’ve met so many women who act just the same. I’ve formed a list of possible women, but I never write anything down. I’m not stupid.

My leisurely walk through the forest has brought me out opposite Pine. As I cross Stanton, I keep to the thick shadows spilling from the rows of pine trees alongside the sidewalk and make my way to the log-built house Daisy Lyon shares with her friend, Tara. The one remarkable thing about Tara is that she works from three each afternoon until late at night. She has two jobs, moving from one to the other and arriving home around midnight each night. I’ve watched her driving her battered old truck down Stanton before heading through the trees to the house. Daisy arrives home around seven, she does chores, eats, and watches TV until ten and then takes a shower and goes to bed. I’ve been watching the pair of them for two long months.

I take a look around before going to the back door. Most back doors have a stoop and offer cover from prying eyes, but someone overlooked this yard and I’ll be able to drive my truck right up to it the moment Daisy steps into the shower. It amazes me how I can move around a person’s home when they’re in the shower. It’s as if showers were designed for people like me to break in without anyone ever hearing. Today I took a peek inside to get the layout. I need to know where Daisy sleeps and discover the easiest way to get her body into the truck. The killing part is easy. Most of them are way too scared to fight back. I pull on examination gloves and then use a lockpick to open the door. This is my make-or-break time and I hold my breath and wait a few minutes for any alarms to chime, but nothing is happening. Seems they don’t own a dog.

I slip inside and familiarize myself with the layout of each room. The home isn’t overly clean, but I guess busy people working two jobs don’t have the time to clean. My nose wrinkles at the garbage spilling from the trash can. Pizza boxes litter the kitchen table. No time to cook either. I’d been surprised when Daisy refused my invitation to dinner. Now more so. She believed she was something special, but I’ve seen her mean side. Her lip curled when she refused my invitation as if I had no value or feelings. I sighed. Maybe she sensed something hiding deep inside me? Not that knowing anything would save her now. My heart is racing with the anticipation of returning to find her alone. I can’t wait to surprise her and see the expression on her face. The startled look in her eyes as she takes her last breath. Believing she was all that won’t help when I slice deep into her tender flesh.

I’ve found Daisy’s bedroom. It has the smell of her, and I can’t resist lying on her bed and inhaling the fragrance of her pillows. From the moment she’d embarrassed me by laughing at my invitation, I’ve fantasized about killing her so many times. Being here now makes it all the more urgent. I craved the thrill of watching her die. Reluctantly, I roll from the sweet-smelling sheets, stand, and go to the bathroom. Perfect. She has her own and it’s scattered with her belongings as I’d imagined. Like the rest of the house, her private space was untidy. She didn’t pay too much attention to cleaning. Perhaps, working at the Triple Z Roadhouse, she had enough cleaning to do all day. I checked the closets for the location of towels and went back to the bedroom. No need to smooth the bed, it was just as she’d left it this morning. I stood for a time imagining her blood-soaked body wrapped in the soft pink woolen throw and grinned. “I’m going to make this Halloween special, just for you, Daisy. Real special.”

TWELVE

On her way back to the office, Jenna’s phone chimed. It was Wolfe. “Hi, Shane, I didn’t expect to hear from you until later.”

“The speed of technology surprises me sometimes too.”Wolfe’s office chair creaked in a familiar way.“The body in the grave is Lydia Ellis out of Louan. Norrell has been working on the body and I have a verbal report. She’s heading back to Bear Peak first thing to excavate the other graves. If they’re both murders and with the same MO, she doesn’t need to be sifting through dirt hunting down artifacts. She’d appreciate backup as there seems to be another crazy running around town. I’m going with her, we’ll have Blackhawk as well as her team, but I’ll be the only armed guard.”

Anxious to hear Norrell’s findings, Jenna chewed on her bottom lip. “Yes, of course. I’ll probably go there with Dave. What did Norrell say?”

“The body has been buried for about six to seven years. It’s female, eighteen to twenty-two years old, slight build, five feet, two inches. There are distinct marks, likely from the serrated edge of a hunting knife in the cervical spine vertebrae, to indicate she was almost decapitated. The sternum and ribs indicate sharp force trauma. She also found similar markings to the victim’s forearms, which would indicate defense wounds. One of her fingers was almost cut through.”Wolfe blew out a long sigh.“Norrell has confirmed the wrappings around the body consist of bed linen and blankets. She has a copy of the recording of the murder and played it during the examination, and she figures, the injuries sustained match what she’s hearing. I agree.”

“Did she mention a weapon?” Kane glanced at Jenna. “If we’re tying these cases together, that evidence might be crucial.”

“Yeah, examining the sternum under the microscope, we both concluded the damage is from a hunting knife. A typical design and length with a serrated edge.”Wolfe paused for a beat. “We know from the recording, the last thing he did was cut her throat. He wanted to make her suffer, but from the arterial spray in the Freya Richardson case, that amount of blood would indicate the opposite. If a victim has been losing blood throughout a vicious knife attack, the gush of blood from severing the carotid artery would be slightly less. What we saw at the apartment was a massive gush of blood. So, if you’re making a comparison between murders, we can’t prove at this time that Freya was stabbed as well.”He sighed.“I did find a partial thumbprint on the phone that doesn’t belong to the victim. It’s not on any database either. If you get a suspect, we can run it against him.”

Jenna nodded mostly to herself as she considered what steps to take next. The case was seven years old.Cold casemeant just that—by this time, all the leads had gone cold. People’s memories faded or became convoluted over time. “I’ll get Rio and Rowley to hunt down her next of kin and any friends she had before she died. I need to find Freya’s body. If this is the same killer, we have to assume he’s going to bury her in the forest. If it’s not, we’ll have to wait until someone stumbles over the body. It could be anywhere.”

“When we’re there in the morning, maybe someone should take a look at the partially dug grave we found?”Kane pulled the Beast into his parking slot outside the office. “Maybe he’s already buried her there. It’s a possibility we can’t overlook.”

“Okay. I’ll leave y’all to get back to work.”Wolfe cleared his throat.“Webber is back with the swabs from Freya’s shower. I’ll see you in the morning. Are you good to meet us at the fire road turnoff at nine?”

Jenna stared out at the mist already crawling from the river and shivered. It would be the same in the morning and could hide anyone or anything at Bear Peak. “Yeah, sure, that works for me. Thank Norrell for me.”

“I will.”Wolfe disconnected.

As Jenna followed Kane and Duke inside the office, a cold chill slithered down her spine. She turned to look over one shoulder along the sidewalk to a Halloween display. At this time of the year, it was difficult to tell what was real and what was a display. Something moved in the display outside the general store. She stared, fixated. The automatons were particularly inventive this year, but as she watched, she could have sworn one of the figures turned to look at her. “Dave. Wait for me.”

“What’s wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Kane put one arm around her shoulder and scanned Main.

Jenna leaned into him. “We know about two missing women and they’re much the same build as me. What if I’m on his list?”

“If he attacks at night, he’d never get through our security.” Kane turned her to face him. “Say he does? Do you honestly believe he could immobilize me and kill you?” He shook his head slowly. “I’m staying by your side twenty-four/seven until we catch this guy. Once we do background checks on his victims, we’ll know more about his targets. I doubt he’d be stupid enough to attempt an attack on a married sheriff with a dog. Everyone in town knows we are never apart, and trust me, I’m not planning on going anywhere without you right beside me.”

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