Against all his better instincts, he said, “You have not been cleared for duty. But, you may sit here in the office and discuss the case with the team. You may not, I mean absolutely not, leave this building except to go home. I promise you that if you do not comply completely—or even if you are complying and I feel it is in your best interest—I will send you home and you will not argue.”
Carrie knew he would let her stay. She wanted to jump up and hug him but that wasn’t possible in her condition. Her ribs still felt like knives grinding and piercing her insides. The doctor had said it would take quite a while for them to mend completely and that sudden movements could re-injure them. She would go crazy if she waited for that to happen before coming back to work.
She settled for a simple, “Thank you. I promise...” he was already waving his hand at her, knowing he would probably be sending her home before the end of the day, no matter what promises she was about to make.
With a huge grin on her face, a grin of victory, Carrie stood and left the SAC’s office. Randy was at his desk and looked up when she came toward him.
“You won, didn’t you?” Randy knew how it would go down so he wasn’t surprised.
“Light desk duty only,” said Carrie.
Randy smiled. He knew she would push that limit the first chance she got. “Uh huh. Sure.” He looked back down at his desk to the report he was reading.
“So what have you found?” Carrie asked.
Randy stood, gathering the papers he had and said, “Let’s go back into the war room and see where all this fits in.”
In the war room, the boards were full with information. The gray faces that once held question marks now had photos of the actual victims, including the missing ranch hand from the Big Horn. They had been able to confirm his identity. About three years ago he’d had knee surgery and the device that had been implanted had a serial number. It was him.
Mike and Rick had been great at tracing the victims’ steps leading up to their deaths, but there were still huge gaps. Carrie sat and looked at the board for the first time in several days. After having time away and seeing it fresh today, it gave her an ability to spot things she had grown used to seeing before.
“Common threads,” she began. “These men were all slight of build. They were all from five feet, eight inches to five feet, ten inches and all were around one hundred sixty-five to one hundred seventy-five in weight. That fits with our theory that a woman, could have been the killer. She was targeting men who would be easier to move.”
She continued, “Then, even though these men worked all over the place and had different lives, some married, some not, they all had a habit of occasionally going to a bar late in the evening to get a drink. That’s where she’s picking up these men.”
“How does that fit with the librarian?” asked Randy. “I just can’t see her going to a bar.”
“I think she likes to unwind and play at night. She is a master of deception, wanting the world to see her as meek and mild while she hunts at night.” Carrie paused again to let that sink in and see where it landed.
Randy was still skeptical. “It’s a stretch. I can’t see it.”
“Okay, let’s shift gears. What about the stolen items from the Big Horn? We need to see if any of them have turned up in pawnshops or elsewhere,” said Carrie.
“We can, but I think it’s another long shot. The items were just common, small ranch items, except for the ATV. They weren’t worth anything to anyone but another ranch.”
“Quit being a negative Nelly,” said Carrie. They were back in the flow of the way they worked. She was good at generating theories and action plans. Randy was good as poking holes and bringing them back to earth. When they had first started working together, this had upset Carrie. She took it personally and fought back. But she had grown to see the strength their partnership held when they worked this way. Randy’s comments kept her theories grounded, and they were not personal.
“What about phone records? Both Justin and Keith had phone calls from a burner shortly before their deaths. What about the others?” Carrie asked.
“The first victim Anderson Cooper did. He had several calls back and forth. But that was the only time that number shows up and as you can guess, it was also a burner phone,” answered Randy.
“What about serial numbers on the phones? Were they bought at the same time or in a batch?” Carrie loved it when her mind would rapid fire with thoughts. Adrenaline would surge through her and gave her a high. Right now that adrenaline was better than any pain killer she could have purchased.
“Not bought in a batch and neither did they have consecutive serial numbers.”
Carrie got up and walked over to the first white board. They had rearranged the victims in order of death once they had received the medical examiner’s official report. The missing ranch hand was first. He had been killed almost a year ago which aligned perfectly with the theft at the Big Horn and his disappearance. It had been too long for there to be an exact day and hour for a time of death, but it was close enough that it all fit together.
He had priors. The ranch where he had worked in Colorado fired him for stealing. They had pressed charges, and he had spent a year in the county jail. There were other petty thefts and incidents in his past, but nothing as severe as murder or manslaughter.
Carrie’s question was: did he steal them, then give them to the perpetrator, or did he steal them for the perpetrator? With the existence of several calls back and forth to the burner phone it felt to her like the whole thing had been planned by someone else.
“The dates on the burner calls for the first victim, I’m assuming, coincide with the thefts,” Carrie was stating what she felt were facts, but also asking, hoping for Randy’s input.
“Yes, the last burner call was an outgoing call from Anderson Cooper the same night that the items were stolen.” Randy had double-checked his notes to confirm.
“So, let’s say this woman, whoever she is, manipulated him to steal the items from the ranch. He complied and his last call was to tell her he had done it and was successful. Then they met, exchanged goods, and she killed him.” Carrie turned to look at Randy.
He sat mulling it over. “I can see it. It fits. But I still can’t see that lady we followed yesterday being the one. I don’t want us to get so locked into her that we miss someone else.”
“True, I know,” Carrie agreed, turning back to the murder board. “But there is that car though,” she said turning back around to him, her eyes aglow.
“But you had a Porche,” said Randy.
“Yes, but my Porche was bought used and was the least expensive model to begin with. It didn’t cost anything near what this car did,” Carrie explained. “It’s a perfect example of a normal everyday woman working at a low-paying job, having an expensive car and a separate night life.”
Randy knew she was right, but what were the odds? He couldn’t deny the fact that this librarian had a Ferrari in her garage.
“Maybe it’s a boyfriend’s, sister’s, or a friend’s,” offered Randy.
“It could be,” Carrie mulled that over in her head a bit. “Odd about the registration being a S I E N N A and her name is S E N N A. What do you make of that?”
“Could be a sister, a twin. That would explain the look-alike. She looks just like the librarian, but doesn’t act anything like her,” said Randy.
“True. What does it say about Senna, any siblings?” she asked Randy.
He shuffled some papers, then read from one, “Mother: Francis Elaine Carter, formerly Williams, Father: Edward Thomas Carter, no siblings shown.”
“Adoption?”
“None recorded here, but could be,” replied Randy.
“What do we have on a Sienna Carter?” asked Carrie.
“Nothing.”
“If she was adopted out to another family, then her last name would not be Carter,” said Carrie.
“But the car’s registration is under Sienna Ca
rter,” replied Randy.
“Address?”
Randy once again shuffled through the file and came up with an address completely different from Senna Carter’s address.
“We need to check that out,” Carrie was heading towards the door.
“Hold on there, champ,” said Randy. “You’re benched.”
~~~
The locked library door jiggled but held firm in Darren’s hand. He peered through the glass door to see if he could see anyone inside. The dim interior light made it hard to see, but it was clear that no one was in there.
He stepped back to see if there was a notice of some kind stating they would be closed that day, but he saw none. The breeze felt good on his head as he lifted his Stetson to wipe his brow, but even better when it was reset firmly back on his head. He stood on the sidewalk looking around and up and down the street. This was highly unusual.
The fact that Randy and Carrie had seen fit to have him talk to Senna, and now the library was closed in the middle of the day for no reason, didn’t seem like a coincidence to him.
He went back to his car and called Randy.
“Hey Darren,” came Randy’s voice over the phone. “What have you got?”
“Nothing. The library is closed. There are two primary ladies that work there, and neither one is there. I think they have some part-time students who work there, too, but the place is locked and there are no lights on. The only time I’ve ever seen the library closed was for a few hours when they do the book drive at the elementary school and that is usually only for a couple of hours, and they just did that yesterday.”
Randy sat and thought for a minute. “Seems like an odd coincidence to me,” said Randy.
“That is exactly what I thought,” agreed Darren. “What do you want me to do?”
“Why don’t you go by both of those ladies’ homes and see if they are there and if they can give you any information? Let me know what you find.”
Darren agreed, turned on his car and headed to the first address. The closest house was Senna Carter’s house which was just a couple of blocks from the library. He drove by slowly once, then turned around a couple of blocks past and came back. He parked along the curb in front of her house. Only the sound of the birds chirping filled the neighborhood. The silver Prius sat in the driveway.
No one answered Darren’s knock on the door. He remembered from the group texts yesterday that the Prius was the car registered to Senna Carter, but he was eager to try and find the Ferrari they had talked about in the group texts the day before.
Curiosity getting the best of him, he wanted to peek into the garage to see what he could see. He didn’t have a warrant but it wouldn’t hurt to just take a look in the garage, he thought.
Darren walked off of the porch and onto the gravel driveway. He watched the neighborhood as he walked, but saw no sign of anyone out, or of anything suspicious. A ripple of nervous tension ran across his skin, knowing he was doing something potentially unlawful, even dangerous.
The garage door did not have any windows. He continued on around the side of the garage that faced the street, again no windows. There was no fence or other boundary enclosing the yard or the garage, so he continued on around to the back.
Another garage door just like the one on the front was there. It was a through-and-through garage. He realized how someone could easily pull a vehicle into the garage, open the door on the other end and pull on through to the alleyway. Disappointingly, that door had no windows either.
Making a full circle around the garage, Darren found no windows anywhere and nothing suspicious. The backyard and the back of the house looked normal and nothing seemed out of place.
His car was hot when Darren crawled back into the front seat and he began to sweat the instant he was inside. But he wasn’t ready to pull away from the curb just yet. He knew he wasn’t the sharpest tack in the box, but he liked a good puzzle. As he sat there wondering what was going on here, he decided to head on over to Andrea’s house. Maybe that would shed some light on things.
The patrol car engine roared to life quickly, and he proceeded to the address of Andrea Wells. It was farther across town than Senna’s house was. Again he drove by, slowly looking the neighborhood over and then turning around, parked in front of the house as he had done before.
There was also a car in the driveway just like at Senna’s, but this house didn’t have a garage. He went to the front door, but once again there was no answer. It appeared by the presence of cars in their driveways, that both women would be home, but no one answered at either place.
Darren walked over to the car, a fairly new blue Chevy Cruze. Walking all around the car he noticed that the doors were locked and there was nothing of note he could see inside the car.
He looked back at the house and could see the back porch. An odd sensation told him to look closer that something wasn’t right. He cautiously walked over, scanning every inch of the ground before him. Then he saw that a set of keys had been dropped in the grass next to the back porch. There was a Chevy key on there and various other keys which could have been house keys.
He breathed deep and a sick feeling settled in. Adrenaline surged through his body and his law enforcement training kicked in. He looked around for anything else odd or out of place. Time was of the essence now.
It could just be nothing, but it didn’t feel right. He felt certain those keys were the keys to the car sitting in the driveway. He stepped up on the back porch and tried the door. It was locked.
This lady could have been trying to unlock her back door when something happened to her. The grass did not look disturbed as if there had been a struggle and there were no signs of a purse or other items.
The lawn was recently mowed which made it low enough that it didn’t readily show footsteps. There was nothing else except the dropped keys. He left them where they lay until he could get someone out to take photos and dust for prints. He didn’t want to disrupt the collection of evidence.
Quickly, back at his car, he called Randy. He filled him in on his visit to the two houses. “I think I can get a warrant to check out Andrea’s house based on the locked library and the dropped keys with her car in the driveway. The judge here will grant it.”
“Can you get inside the library too?” asked Randy. “I doubt there is anything there, but you never know. It’s odd that both women didn’t show up to work.”
“Will do. Hey, did you find anything at Sienna Carter’s address?” asked Darren.
“Headed that way now. I’ll keep you posted,” said Randy.
~~~
The house that Sienna Carter had on her vehicle registration was northwest of Oklahoma City. Driving there would have gone faster, but these were two-lane streets marked off in one-mile sections, a stop sign at each one, and a speed limit of forty-five miles per hour.
When Randy pulled up to where his GPS had taken him, there was a large acreage. A long and winding drive led to the main house which was tucked back into the woods. The house was magnificent.
As Randy got closer, his surprise grew. The yard was clearly maintained by a professional landscaper. There was a four car attached garage and another large barn that matched the design and details of the house. Behind and to the side of the barn was a large corral.
It looked like a ranch, but there were no horses or cows on the land or pasture that Randy could see. There was also no sign of people or cars. He couldn’t smell any large animals either, only the floral smells from the lush flowerbeds.
Honeybees swarmed the bushes as he walked by, stirring them to life. That was the only sound Randy could hear.
He walked to the massive double door, and rang the bell, and then waited. After several minutes he realized that no one would be coming to the door. The doorbell was a security doorbell, and he knew the owner would be able to see him from wherever they were and could also speak to him if they chose.
After a few more attempts of ringing and waiting, he walked
off of the porch. He wasn’t having any better luck than Darren was. Once back in the car, not in a hurry to leave, he called Carrie.
“Tired of sitting at your desk?” Randy asked.
“No, because I have been doing more digging,” there was a hint of excitement in her voice. “I pulled the tax records on that property that Sienna Carter had listed, where you are now. The owner is Williams Stables, Inc. Williams is the maiden name of Senna’s mother Elaine, so I dug further. This is her mother’s parents’ home and ranch. They have both passed away.”
“It still doesn’t tell us who Sienna is,” said Randy. “This property is expertly maintained. It looks like someone is living here, but it doesn’t appear to be a working ranch right now. The corrals and barns are kept up, but there isn’t any sign of a horse or any other animal.”
“Randy, I just have the feeling that the answer to all of this is right before us, but, man, for the life of me I can’t see it!” Carrie’s frustration was agonizing.
Randy told Carrie what Darren had found in Kachina. “Darren is getting a warrant for the other lady’s property who works with Senna at the library.”
“What if that Senna is the killer, and she has abducted her co-worker and is going to kill her?” asked Carrie.
“Naww that’s a stretch. This killer only kills men. It doesn’t fit. Something else is going on with that,” said Randy.
Carrie sat quiet a minute thinking. Randy was right, killing a woman was totally out of the realm of this killer’s MO. “Well, what now?”
“I guess I’ll head back to the office. See you soon.”
“Okay, I’ll keep digging.”
~~~
Sienna didn’t respond to Andrea’s comment at first. She remained lost in thought. But then it seemed as if Andrea’s words had somehow finally penetrated her thoughts. Sienna looked at Andrea. Her face was sad, not angry or intimidating.
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