Sauk Valley Killer

by KJ Kalis

  He pushed the dolly toward the garage door and pressed a button on the side, the motor making a clacking sound as the door lifted. Joseph pushed the dolly just beyond the garage, the van doors already open and ready to go. He lowered the ramp on the back of the van and wheeled the dolly up, pushing it inside and strapping it down with bungee cords. The last thing he needed was the dolly bouncing off the sides of the van while he drove.

  Joseph walked back into the garage, glancing around. There was minimal cleanup after this experiment. He eyed sheets of Plexiglas in the corner and smiled a little, knowing that this next experiment could be one of his best, but he would need to find the right subjects for it. Taking a bottle in his hand, he sprayed down the interior of each cage with disinfectant, removing the buckets and the toilet paper as well as the empty water bottles. All of those items went in the trash. He went to a shelf against the wall and found two more buckets and two more rolls of toilet paper and set them in the corner. That was all the prep work he needed for his next experiment, at least for now.

  Joseph gave a nod of satisfaction as he stripped off the apron and the gloves, tossing them in the trash. He shut off the lights of the garage as he left, closing the door behind him. The slam of the van doors echoed off the side of the hill. The van’s engine started, it rumbling to life in the damp coolness of the evening.

  He hummed as he drove, a song that his mother had taught him as a child. What the name of it was, he couldn’t remember, but he remembered the melody. It was comforting to him. He was tired and his ankle ached, but he couldn’t stop now, he knew that. He was too close to a breakthrough. Just thinking about it made him excited.

  About five miles from the garage, Joseph pulled the van into a parking lot. There was an all-night diner open, no one inside. He drove the van around the far side of the diner into the rear parking lot where it was pitch black. Passing a line of dumpsters, he turned the van around, parking it facing toward the front of the diner. Off to the side, there was a bench. It was covered in darkness, no lights from the building installed on that side. Joseph knew he would need to move quickly in case a new customer came to eat. He looked at his watch. It was nearly two o’clock in the morning. For a moment, he wished he only had one body to drop off, not two. It was taking an unnecessary risk with the amount of time it would take to unload both of them. He opened the van doors, Evan and Layne in the same position they had been when he put them in the van just half an hour before. He contemplated for just a moment and decided to forgo the lift and the dolly. It would be faster if he muscled them out of the van.

  He decided to move Evan first, stepping up in the van and pulling the young man’s body toward him, trying to get his shoulder underneath him. He ended up half dragging, half carrying the body, nearly stumbling over the curb with his bad ankle. Pain shot through his body as he sat Evan down on the bench. The body slumped to the right. Joseph sat him up and hurried back to the van to get Layne. He positioned her right next to Evan, draping Evan’s arm around her shoulder. At first glance, they would probably look like a couple sitting in the dark enjoying each other’s company, though if anyone looked closely, they would quickly see the burns and notice that Layne was much older than Evan by at least ten years. Joseph glanced around and retrieved a blanket from inside the van, covering their legs. Moving as quickly and quietly as he could, he closed the van doors and walked back to the driver's side, getting in and starting it up. How soon someone would find them, he didn’t know, but that wasn’t his concern now. His mind went back to the shop. There was much work to do, but he needed subjects. He needed them now…

  36

  Alicia Johnson had worked for the Rise and Dine Café for nearly twenty-five years. As she pulled into the parking lot behind the restaurant, checking the time on her car display, she saw a couple of people sitting on the bench at the side of the shop. She checked her clock again. It was five to four in the morning. Her shift started at four AM. She’d been the head baker at the café almost since the day it opened. She shook her head, wondering what people were doing sitting on the bench that late at night or early in the morning, depending on how you looked at it, she thought. Her blue sedan rattled as she pulled it into her spot behind the store. The bosses didn’t like her to park in the front lot because her shift overlapped with their breakfast rush, which would begin in just a couple hours. She opened the driver's side door and got out, her knees complaining. Working for as many years as she had on her feet had made her body cranky, she thought. She slung her purse over her shoulder and carried her apron in the same hand with her keys. She locked her car, not that anyone would steal it. It was old and barely ran as it was, but it was what she could afford while she was putting her baby girl through college. All the hard work and sacrifice would be worth it when she saw her daughter walk across the stage in just a few months.

  “Hello,” she said, passing the couple sitting on the bench. Neither of them answered. Neither of them moved. Alicia stopped just after she passed them, turning back. They still hadn’t moved, not even to glance her way. “Are you all right?” she said, taking two steps towards them. They still didn’t move. Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, she tapped the screen for the flashlight feature. She pointed it at the people on the bench and screamed.

  37

  Kat woke up to her phone ringing in the dark. “Hello?” she mumbled, not even looking at the screen to see who might be calling her and what seemed like the middle of the night.

  “Beckman, it’s Detective Dawson. Did I wake you?”

  Kat swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Van had turned her way, rolling towards her, “Yes, but that’s okay. What’s going on?”

  “We just found two more bodies. Can you and Van come? It’s all hands on deck.”

  Kat nodded, “Of course. Text me the address?”

  “Yes.”

  Van had already stood up by the time Kat ended the call with Dawson. She was shivering, whether it was from being woken in the middle of the night or the drop in temperature, she wasn’t sure. She went into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Back in the bedroom, she grabbed a pair of jeans, a fresh T-shirt, and a hoodie. She picked up a pair of tennis shoes and a pair of socks and went down the steps as quietly as possible. She didn’t want to wake TJ if he was sleeping.

  TJ was laying down on the couch, covered by a blanket, but his eyes were open. “Everything okay?” he said.

  “Two more bodies were just found. The detective wants us to come to the scene. You okay here with Jack?”

  He nodded, rubbing his beard “Yes. I’ll take care of him. You don’t have to worry.” Kat started to walk away, “Kat?”

  Kat stopped for a second, turning back toward him. “Yes?”

  “This guy is going to be on the hunt for more victims now. He’s escalating. Watch your six.”

  TJ’s comment sent another round of shivers down Kat’s back. She nodded, chewed her lip for a moment and then walked back upstairs, passing Van on the steps. “You forget something?” he asked.

  “Yep, give me a minute.” Kat went back into the bedroom and opened her nightstand, using the fingerprint identification pad on her gun safe to open it. Inside, she pulled out a Sig Sauer 320, checked to make sure it was loaded, and a holster. She stood up, attached the holster to her pants and loaded the gun into it, pulling her jacket down. Kat was sure Van would be carrying. She might as well, too. They needed to be as careful as possible. Who knew if they would become a target?

  She trotted down the steps and patted her side as she passed TJ. He gave her a nod, knowing exactly what she was saying without her having to say it. “I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”

  By the time she got outside, Dawson had already sent to the address and Van had warmed the truck up, “Where are we going to?”

  Kat stared at the text from Dawson. “It’s a diner over on route twenty-three.” She programmed the address into the trucks onboard
GPS and leaned back in her seat.

  She and Van were wearing virtually the same outfit, except that he had added a baseball hat – jeans, t-shirts and jackets. “What did Dawson say when he called?”

  “Not much. Just that two more bodies were found. It’s all hands on deck.” She turned to look at Van, the stubble from overnight gathering on his face, “Thanks for going with me,” she said, reaching for his hand. It felt warm against her cool skin.

  He squeezed her hand, “I’m guessing you went back upstairs to get your Sig?”

  “Good guess.” One thing that Kat had started to do after they moved to California was to go to the gun range as much as she could. It seemed peaceful to her, the ear protection cordoning off the world, her only focus the target in front of her. Van had worked with her on some self-defense techniques. It had given her confidence, a confidence that she knew she was going to need right now. She noticed her breath seemed shallow. Having an attack wasn’t something she could afford at the moment. She closed her eyes, focusing on taking deep breaths, trying to convince her body that everything was fine and that she was safe, except that she wasn’t sure it was true. The killer was moving so fast, that she wasn’t sure anyone was safe anymore…

  By the time they got to the diner, there was a whole host of police cars and unmarked sedans surrounding the area. A few people from inside the diner were crowded on the sidewalk, the bright yellow police line tape keeping them from seeing what was happening on the side of the building, or at least having a full view of it. Mac, the friend they had bumped into at the first scene was working the police tape. “Come on in,” he said, lifting the tape over their heads.

  Van tipped his hat at him sarcastically, “You the welcoming committee this time?”

  “Apparently. Dawson told me that if I saw you guys to send you right in. I guess you’re his new favorites.”

  Kat followed Van as he wove his way between the police cars toward the side of the building. Dawson lifted his head and walked towards them as soon as he saw them. “Thanks for coming. We left the bodies where they were until you guys got here.”

  It was still a little shocking to Kat how friendly Detective Dawson had become, but he was a man drowning in unsolved murders. Any port in a storm, she thought. “Thanks for calling us. What’s going on?”

  “About an hour ago one of the restaurant workers showed up for her early shift and walked by the two bodies. We’re guessing they’d been here for maybe an hour or so.” He pointed to them, “Now, I’d love for you to have a look, but I have to warn you it’s pretty brutal this time.” Dawson looked down at his feet.

  Kat blinked and looked at Van, who gave a little nod. She knew he had seen his fair share of injured bodies during his time overseas. She had not. For a second, she almost begged off, afraid that her PTSD would roar its ugly head up in her face, but she swallowed, knowing that she couldn’t continue to live her life afraid of what might happen. She’d face things one at a time, just like Van said. The next thing in front of her was working the case. The next part of working the case was looking at the bodies. She glanced at Van and then at Dawson. “I’m good. Let’s take a look.” She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

  As she approached the bodies, she understood immediately why Dawson had given them a warning. Their skin seemed to be peeling off, each body covered in welts and blisters. Kat stood back for just a second, taking in the scene. Evan Chapman’s body had been placed right next to Layne Clark’s, his arm draped around her shoulder as if they were on a date. A blanket had been carefully laid across their laps like they were chilled from the night air and Evan was trying to keep Layne warm. Kat moved a little closer. “What happened to them?” she whispered to no one in particular.

  Dr. Murphy, the medical examiner she and Van had met with Stephanie when Chelsea’s body had been recovered, had his back to her, his navy-blue windbreaker emblazoned with “coroner” in large yellow block letters. “Well, it’s hard to say…” he commented, turning towards her. “Wait! I know you.”

  “Yes, we met you a few days ago when you talked to Stephanie Vincent about her niece Chelsea.”

  He shook his head and looked around, catching the eye of Detective Dawson. “Why are they here?”

  Kat was a little insulted at the question. Clearly, if they were at a police crime scene in the middle of the night, then someone had let them know, not to mention someone had let them through the taped off boundary. She didn’t have a chance to answer. Dawson did it for her, “All hands on deck, Doc. These two have a long history of helping with investigations. Have broken some really big cases and helped law enforcement. The Chief said so.”

  Dr. Murphy frowned, “Well, this is highly unusual…”

  Dawson sighed, “Listen, Doc, we’ve got two choices right now. Either you can call the Chief and chat with him about it, or we can just move on and talk about the bodies. Which one?”

  Kat glanced at Van, who raised his eyebrows. She was surprised Dawson was coming to their rescue, but he was.

  “Fine. It is highly unusual, though,” Dr. Murphy said. “Since we’re here,” he said, “I don’t have any conclusions about the bodies or the manner of death at this point. I was just about to begin my examination.” Dr. Murphy peeled the blanket off the laps of the two dead bodies. Kat could immediately see that the blistering had extended all the way down Layne Clark’s legs. Dr. Murphy stepped back quickly. “Get me some protective equipment,” he said to his assistant, who scurried off to the van at a run, “Detective, let’s get everyone to back up. I have no idea if this is a chemical or biological reaction. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  The fact that Dr. Murphy was so spooked by what he saw didn’t help Kat’s confidence. Mac and Dawson moved Kat and Van back another twenty-five feet, so it was impossible to see what Dr. Murphy had found. He quickly donned a face shield, mask, gown and another set of gloves before re-approaching the bodies. He bent over, looking at Evan, feeling his wrist. “Someone call an ambulance, this one’s still alive!”

  Kat’s heart skipped a beat. Underneath all the blisters, Evan was still alive? How was that possible? The scene buzzed with excitement. Police radios chirped as they called for an ambulance as Doctor Murphy quickly checked Layne Clark. “She’s dead.” He looked at Evan. “Let’s lay him down. Go get me a tarp!” He barked at his assistant, who ran back to the van again, returning with a bright yellow tarp, the same kind Kat had seen earlier that week used for Chelsea’s body. Dr. Murphy and his assistant gently eased Evan’s body onto the ground. “Hang in there, Evan,” Kat breathed in nothing more than a whisper. To know that the young man was still hanging on was more than she could have hoped for. A single tear dripped down her face. She quickly wiped it away, not wanting anyone to see her getting emotional.

  “How long on that bus?” Dr. Murphy shouted at Dawson.

  Dawson took two steps forward, “One minute. Just one minute.”

  The next minute was the longest of Kat’s life. She felt for Van’s hand, warm and safe, as she stared at Evan’s body. Dr. Murphy was giving orders to his assistant, who had brought a first aid kit and set it down nearby. Dr. Murphy was listening with a stethoscope to his chest. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to intubate him right now. If I don’t, we're going to lose him.” Dr. Murphy’s assistant rustled through the first aid kit, quickly pulling out a laryngoscope and an ENT tube. “Anyone have a flashlight?” Dr. Murphy yelled. Mac stepped forward with his flashlight, pulling it off his duty belt. “Good. Shine it right down there.”

  As the bright beam cut across Evan’s face, Kat could hear the ambulance sirens in the distance. Dawson turned to look and then yelled for two officers to make room to get the ambulance as close as possible. Kat looked back at Dr. Murphy, who had positioned himself above Evan’s head, working the metal laryngoscope down into his throat. “Tube,” he said, holding his hand out. His assistant placed the ENT tube in his hand. With more pressure than Kat thought should be
necessary, she watched Dr. Murphy shove the clear plastic tube down into Evan’s lungs. The young man still hadn’t moved. “I’m in,” Dr. Murphy said, leaning back. His assistant moved quickly to attach a bag to the end of the tube, Dr. Murphy picking up his stethoscope and listening to Evan’s lungs again. “Good bilateral breath sounds,” he said. He stood up just as two paramedics ran towards the scene, pushing a gurney and carrying two large first-aid bags. “Pick him up using the tarp. His skin is compromised. Just get him out of here. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Tell the docs to use full precautions.”

  Kat watched, a lump in her throat, as the paramedics did exactly what Dr. Murphy ordered. The four of them, Dr. Murphy and his assistant and the two paramedics, lifted Evan, using the yellow tarp as a cradle. They sent him gently down on the gurney, covering him with a sterile sheet and buckling the belt around his ankles, waist and chest. Kat heard the click of the side rails pop into place as they pushed the gurney away from where Layne’s body still sat. One of the paramedics, an older woman with dark brown hair, was talking in her radio, “We are six minutes out. We’ve got a level I trauma needing full precautions. Notify the burn unit and the blood bank. We’re common in hot.”

  Kat turned back, watching Dr. Murphy, who was stripping off the gown and the gloves, staring at the gurney. Kat was numb. The idea that that young man had suffered and yet had survived long enough to get help was a miracle. She breathed a prayer quietly to herself, hoping that Evan would make it.