by D. K. Hood
A groaning sound came from the trees, and then a loud crack sent birds flying high in the air. In a twang like an arrow leaving a bow, a spear shot through the air. The sharpened wooden stake thumped into Joe’s shoulder, flinging him to the forest floor. A split second later, Sara flew high into the trees then dropped with a sickening snap to hang by her neck, feet twitching. From the angle of her head, Jenna could see it was too late for Sara. Her stomach cramped and she turned towards the bushes and vomited.
“Jesus.” Blackhawk pulled a hunting knife from his belt. “Stay here, I’ll cut her down.” He took off, moving in a careful wide arc around the clearing. “Joe, if you can hear me, stay down.”
He moved fast, leaping over bushes, but Jenna could see his head moving in all directions searching for another trap. He’d reached Sara moments later and was sawing at the rope to release her. With one hand on the cord, securing Sara, he attempted to lower her slowly but the rope slid through his hands and she tumbled to the forest floor in a nauseating thud.
Jenna wiped her mouth and scanned the area, searching for tripwires, then retraced Joe’s steps. A length of fishing line lay across the dirt track. Taking careful steps, she inched her way to Joe’s side. He was out cold but alive. Apart from the wicked stake sticking through his shoulder, he had an egg on his head. Jenna checked him, pressing two fingers on his jugular and relieved to feel his pulse under her fingers. She reached for her cellphone and called the paramedics, explaining the situation and the danger involved. Next, she called Kane. “It’s all gone to hell. Sara’s dead and Joe has a stake through one shoulder, paramedics are on their way.”
“I’m making my way to you now.” Kane’s voice was reassuring. “The others are close behind. No one found anything at the homes and we’ve taken all their computer equipment.”
“Roger that.” Jenna turned to see Blackhawk returning. “I’ll send Blackhawk to give you a ride.” She heard Kane’s sharp intake of breath. “I’ll be fine.”
“Stay on the line with Kane and I’ll move Joe into the cover of the trees.” Blackhawk dragged his unconscious friend into the bushes, and then turned to her. “Stay here.”
Jenna crawled into a secluded area and Blackhawk ran back to his dirt bike. As the noise of the engine disappeared in the distance, the forest closed in around her. She’d never felt so alone and pressed the cellphone to her ear. “Dave.”
“I’m here.”
In all the years Jenna had been in law enforcement, she’d never given up, not once – but seeing Sara die in front of her had shaken her to the core. She wanted to scream, cry out in frustration, hit something, but she was too damn tired. After checking Joe again, she propped her sore and battered body against a tree and let out a long sigh in desperation. “He’s winning.”
Fifty-One
The sun had long set by the time Kane had gotten Jenna back to his truck. The streetlights along Stanton Road were a welcome sight as they drove out of the dark forest. He’d taken the lead, with Rowley doubling with Blackhawk. They’d managed to process the crime scene in good time but removing the injured man and Sara’s body had taken longer than expected. The narrow trail was barely wide enough for the gurneys and they’d needed to use the headlights on the dirt bikes to illuminate the way for Wolfe and the paramedics. With Joe safely on his way to the hospital, awake and insisting he’d be fine, he’d waited until Sara’s body was in Wolfe’s van before helping Jenna into his truck; she was pale and likely in shock. “I’ll just be a minute, I’ve gotta help load Joe’s bike into the back of Rowley’s pickup then we can go home.”
“I’ll be okay.” Jenna buckled her seatbelt. “I figured you’d be more worried about Duke. He’ll be howling the place down by now.”
Kane smiled at her. With all that was going on, she was worried about his dog. “He’ll be fast asleep by now. He uses the dog flap to go out to do his business and I filled his food and water feeders before I left home.”
After heaving the dirt bike into the back of Rowley’s pickup and securing it, he gave Rowley a slap on the back and turned to walk back to his truck. “See you in the morning.” He waved at Blackhawk. “Thanks for your help, Atohi.”
“Before you go.” Wolfe pulled him to one side and lowered his voice to a whisper. “This murder is different. From the brief examination at the scene, I figure Sara was sexually assaulted. I’ve found nothing similar in either of the other victims. If we add the other inconsistences, we could be dealing with a copycat. If not, and this is the work of the same killer, he’s becoming a sadist.”
Kane stared at Wolfe under the dim streetlight and growled in frustration. “You telling me there’re two killers in town? Because as sure as hell, we already have one locked up.”
“You have the autopsy reports of both girls on file. I’ll do this one directly and send it through. If I find conclusive evidence it’s the same killer, I’ll call you.” Wolfe sighed and stared at his van. “I’ll need a positive ID but from the images he sent, it’s Sara Nelson. I’ll have Webber prepare her for a viewing and go see the parents.” He glanced back at Kane’s truck. “You need to get Jenna home. Everything else can wait until morning.”
Kane walked with him back to Wolfe’s van. “Sure, I’ll call Walters. He can give our suspects the good news they’ll be spending the night in the cells.” He cleared his throat. “Sam Cross is representing them and he’s a no-show until the morning. Last I heard he was chasing down the DA for a deal for Matt Miller.”
“I’ll call you later.” Wolfe waved at Webber to join him and climbed into the van.
Kane’s truck was the last vehicle remaining on the dimly lit street. An owl hooted and his attention moved to the dark forest. It changed at night, as if the day shift had gone home and the night stalkers taken over. The wind rustled the pine needles, making the trees seem to move in a wave as if they dared anyone to step into their midst. A shiver lifted goosebumps on his flesh and he hustled back to his truck.
* * *
By the time Kane pulled up outside Jenna’s house, she’d fallen asleep. Her breathing was deep and even. He touched her face and called her name but she didn’t wake. He slid from behind the wheel and heard an excited bark as Duke shot out of the dark to greet him. “I figured you’d be asleep by now.” He scratched the dog on the head. “Be quiet now.”
He jogged up the front steps, used the code to open the front door and disabled the alarm. He went back to his truck and opened the passenger-side door. “Jenna, we’re home.”
When she didn’t stir, he unbuckled her seatbelt, carried her into the house and laid her down on her bed. After removing her weapon and boots, he covered her with a blanket and then slipped silently from the house. He had steaks in the refrigerator and the fixings for dinner. The thought made his belly growl in anticipation. After placing the potatoes in the oven, he headed for the shower.
Later, as he cooked, his mind centered on the case. He’d processed the crime scene with Wolfe and found a number of similarities in the method of killing. Maybe not in the crime scene itself but Sara’s death had added a different dimension to the killer. Deployed on a number of missions during active duty, he’d witnessed the ingenuity of man’s ability to kill or maim, but the way the killer had mixed it up was pure genius. The Shadow Man had a number of skills not common to most men – skills like his own. In fact, if he’d chosen the criminal path, breaking into houses or killing would’ve been a walk in the park – he doubted anyone would’ve been able to catch him or come close to discovering his identity. So who did he have locked up with those skills? He ran possibilities through his mind. Neither Packer nor Anderson had shown any anger toward Jenna but the jury was still out on Kittredge. His cellphone ringtone told him Jenna was awake. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Sore but I’ll live.” He heard a splash of water. “I’m in the hot tub. I won’t stay long.” She sighed. “We need to discuss the case and I really need to eat something. I can’t take pain meds on a
n empty stomach. Can you drive into town and grab some takeout from Aunt Betty’s?”
Kane checked the food in the oven and went to the counter to toss the salad. “No need, I’ll have dinner ready soon. Just need to toss the steaks into the pan.”
“One of these days I’m going to wake up and find out you’re just a dream.” Jenna yawned. “I’ll be there in ten.”
Fifty-Two
After finishing her meal, Jenna sipped her glass of juice and listened with interest to Kane’s insight into the case. “So you wouldn’t consider Wolfe’s theory that Sara’s murder was a copycat?”
“Nope, its planning and execution—” Kane frowned. “Sorry that’s a bad choice of words, but the way the Shadow Man is changing up the game all the time is consistent in a way. Think about it – if you’re playing a video game, you’d face a variety of challenges and in each one, you have the chance to lose a life. I figure he’s doing the same thing. He doesn’t want to kill you, just knock you down for a time, but then you’ll be back to play the next level.”
Incredulous, Jenna stared at him. “Just how many lives will I have?”
“I figure until he grows tired of playing with you. We know he’s started to enjoy killing the girls.” Kane got up from the table to collect the plates. “Wolfe believes Sara suffered sexual abuse.”
Horrified, Jenna sucked in a breath. “So he’s no longer killing them to get to me, he’s killing them for fun?” She drained her glass. “Well, he won’t be having any fun tonight, will he?”
“I just hope we’ll have enough evidence to hold the suspects until we discover which one of them is the Shadow Man.” Kane shrugged. “We’ll have a problem with Sam Cross. He’ll likely put a case to the DA to have them released in the morning.”
Suddenly exhausted, Jenna rubbed her temples and looked at him. “Surely if he figures one of them is guilty and another girl’s life is at risk, he won’t, will he?”
“From what I can make of Cross, he follows the letter of the law.” Kane filled two cups from the coffee maker and gave one to Jenna. “Innocent until proven guilty and right now we’re skating on thin ice with the way we conducted the interviews.”
Jenna poured cream into her coffee. “How so?”
“Oh come on, Jenna, you coerced all of them into giving you permission to search their homes and vehicles. One look at those tapes and Cross will be screaming foul.” Kane sat down and added sugar to his cup. “Then we held them overnight, after we’d conducted the searches and found zip.” He frowned. “They’ll walk free the moment he speaks to them.”
Jenna opened her mouth to insist she followed the book when Kane’s cellphone chimed. It was Wolfe and he put him on speaker.
“I’ve conducted an autopsy on Sara Nelson.” Wolfe’s voice came through the speaker in his usual professional calmness. “It’s not good.”
Jenna stared at the cellphone, willing it to give her some evidence she could use against the Shadow Man. “I don’t need a blow-by-blow tonight, Wolfe, just give me an outline. I’ll read your report later.”
“Sure but with these cases, Kane should take a look at the bodies of Amanda and Sara before they’re released to the families.”
“Okay.” Kane exchanged a puzzled look with Jenna. “Why me?”
“Because you’re trained to kill.” Wolfe sounded exhausted. “I’ve examined the necks in the three victims and they’re all too neat, if that’s the correct word, for someone who hasn’t been trained to kill. I had reservations when I examined Lindy Rosen – her injuries are consistent with her attacker coming from behind but, after careful consideration, I’m convinced he looped the tourniquet around her neck then turned his back on her and bent to lift her with the cord over one shoulder. I’ve seen the move. It’s effective and uses less strength.”
“Yeah, but the tourniquet usually slides up under the chin, so it cuts higher than, say, by using the cord as a garrote.” Kane turned his cup in his hands. “Did you find evidence of that type of injury?”
“Yeah, the injuries were consistent. Then we go to the second victim, Amanda Braxton. She had her neck broken in a chokehold. Clean, easy and effective. The classic chokehold is taught in basic training by the police as a restraining method; the twist is added in the military as an effective and silent way to kill.” Wolfe cleared his throat. “So we’ve two victims, with no apparent motive to kill them. Although a psychopath doesn’t need a reason to kill, it’s as if he kidnapped and murdered these girls to prove a point. I found nothing, no trace evidence. The buttons on their clothes had their fingerprints on them. He scared them, we know that from the video files, but apart from that, he killed them without the usual raging violence and discarded them like trash. The brutality, agreed, was in the strangulation but what he aimed at Jenna was far worse.” He sighed. “Until he killed Sara Nelson.”
Jenna sipped her coffee, listening with interest. “So what’s changed? He set up a slingshot to kill anyone trying to save her. In my opinion, she died by virtually the same method.”
“I’ll agree to some point, Jenna. Yes, ultimately, they all died from neck trauma but he raped Sara. Her clothes were torn as if he ripped them open, then he dressed her before he set her on the boulder. I don’t believe she was fully conscious when it happened.”
“Strangulation is personal.” Kane frowned. “Up close, feeling the life leave the body – and it’s not a quick death. Yet he depersonalized it by using different techniques.”
“Why rape an unconscious girl?” Wolfe’s agitation was obvious. “In my understanding, rape is a punishment and from what we’ve seen, this killer feeds on fear. What do you make of this, Kane?”
“I figure he’s changed direction from revenge against women in authority to enjoying scaring young women. The killing was to hide his identity so he could continue the game, but now he’s discovered a new thrill. Scaring the victims is feeding his ego – he now has control and the ultimate domination of a woman is rape. The kill is a form of disposal. It means nothing to him.”
The memory of Sara’s neck breaking as she shot into the air had replayed in Jenna’s mind so many times, making a constant flow of bile rush up the back of her throat. She stared at Kane across the table. “I gather the spear-throwing slingshot is something you’re familiar with, Kane?”
“Yeah, but it’s not necessarily military.” Kane met her gaze. “I’ve seen it used to kill game. They bend and tie down a sapling, so when released it springs back with force. To release it you attach a slipknot to a tripwire. Once tripped the tree propels the attached arrow or small spear into the target. It’s a method used since the Stone Age.” He frowned, staring down into his cup. “The killer wanted to enhance the shock value by hanging Sara in front of you. He used the same principle to construct a snare to hoist Sara into the air, and then used the same tripwire to trigger both of them. He planned the whole thing. I found a pulley tangled in the rope.”
Jenna rubbed her temples. “So how the hell did he subdue the girl then drag her and a long rope deep into the forest without anyone seeing or hearing him?” She lifted her gaze to Kane. “It was hard enough getting out of the forest alone over that narrow track.”
“He could’ve had a weapon and made her walk to her death. I know how he subdued her long enough to collect the things he needed. I found a pair of panties stuffed in her mouth soaked in diethyl ether. She would’ve been close to death by the time you found her and certainly not capable at any time of being able to call for help. The panties didn’t belong to her, or any of the other girls. I figure they’re from another kill.” He cleared his throat. “Agent Martin asked to be kept in the loop and he’s offered to help. I’ll text him the images.”
Jenna nodded as if Wolfe was in the room. “Thanks. If this is a previous kill, forget the teenagers and tell Martin to narrow down the search by using the same parameters of the killer’s previous victims – ages and occupation. I figure he’s showing me what he’s capable of doing if he c
atches me.”
Fifty-Three
Friday
Jenna’s week was on a downward slide. She arrived at the office to find the media crammed into the waiting area and Maggie doing her best to keep order. To make things worse, Rowley had arrived early as usual and was on a callout to a traffic accident. The Blackwater deputies had left after spending the night watching the suspects and Walters had called in sick. With Kane clearing the way, Jenna slipped behind the counter and glared at the microphones waving in front of her. “We found the body of missing teenager Sara Nelson yesterday afternoon. As of this moment investigations into the killer of Sara Nelson, Lindy Rosen and Amanda Braxton are ongoing. When I have an update, I’ll contact you through the normal channels. Now will you leave so I can find their killer?” She turned and, with Kane at her back, walked into her office to come face to face with Sam Cross, looking like he’d just walked off a dude ranch. What next? “Mr. Cross, I was just about to call you.”
“No need. Maggie informed me I’d gained three new clients.” Cross gripped the back of the chair and stared at her. “Have you charged my clients?”
Jenna sat at her desk and looked up at him. “Only Kittredge. He came in for questioning and decided to throw a chair at me.”
“Okay, and what about the others? You’ve had them locked up overnight for what reason?”
“We believe they could be involved in three homicides.” Jenna got up, went to the file cabinet and pulled out the murder books. “All the men we detained waived their rights but we also obtained signed agreements to search their property. As is their right under the law, they decided they wanted representation the moment they hit the cells. We haven’t spoken to them since. As I’m sure you’re aware, we’ve a killer on the loose, and these men are of interest. I’d be putting the community at risk if I’d released them before we’d searched their properties. This was explained to them during the interview and they didn’t object.”