The Dead Chill

by Linda Berry

  “I can’t answer that until we get lab results. She was found in Whilamut Creek by the old bridge.”

  A sort of wild terror leapt into his eyes. “Jesus. Someone put her in that icy water?”

  “I’m afraid so.” A moment passed while she let that register. “Do you know why anyone would do that?”

  “Purification. Water sustains life. It’s sacred. It has spiritual meaning.” He stared intently at the floor, thinking, and added in a shaky voice, “He strangles women. Now he’s killed Nikah.”

  “Who killed Nikah?”

  “The Stalker.”

  Granger’s eyes widened.

  The hair stood up on Sidney’s arms. “Does this stalker have a name?”

  Lancer shook his head. His hands were shaking.

  “Okay. Take a breath. Granger, get him some water.”

  Granger left the room and returned with a glass.

  Lancer drank half of it. Head bowed, he stared at the floor, gripping the armrests as though they were lifelines.

  “You okay?”

  He lifted his head, nodded.

  “Can you tell me about this stalker?”

  Lancer gulped in a breath. “It started about six months ago. A trespasser was roaming through the village at night. Some of our neighbors started finding tracks going through their properties, always coming up from White Tail Creek. At first, the elders didn’t take it seriously. Then things started going missing from barns and sheds. Power-tools, things that could be sold.” Lancer paused to catch his breath. “More tracks were found, under bedroom windows, like he was spying on folks.”

  “The Stalker started peeping?” Granger asked, a deep frown creasing his brow.

  “Yeah. He was watching women who live alone, and teenage girls.” Lancer cleared his throat again. “Men started taking turns patrolling the village at night. Everyone was pretty shaken up. Then, no tracks for a while. We figured we chased him out.” He cleared his throat. “About two months ago, Badger Woods and his wife said their dog started barking at two in the morning. When he looked out the window, he saw a figure darting through the trees down by the creek. Next day, they learned a thief had broken into their neighbor’s house. He’d stolen jewelry while they slept. The Stalker had been in their bedroom! Over the last few weeks, there were two more house thefts. Jewelry and small valuables were stolen while people slept in their beds.”

  A sense of growing unease tightened Sidney’s stomach and she saw Granger’s posture had stiffened. “Let me get this straight, Lancer. People in Two Creeks saw tracks from an unidentified trespasser for weeks, followed by an outbreak of thefts in barns and sheds. No one did anything. The thief got braver. He started entering homes and stealing things while people slept.”

  He nodded.

  Alarm bells were sounding, but Sidney waited patiently while Lancer took another drink of water. Then he dropped a bombshell. “A month ago, a woman was attacked.”

  Sidney couldn’t hide the shock in her tone. “Raped?”

  “Yeah. At home, in her own bed. Rumors had it that he strangled her for kicks.”

  “Who was the victim?” Sidney asked.

  Lancer shifted in his seat, pulled an ankle over his knee, played with his shoelace. “I don’t know. The elders closed ranks. They put out a warning to the community that a rapist was on the loose but they kept the details private.”

  Sidney tried to keep judgment out of her voice. “Why didn’t they notify us?”

  “The victim didn’t want to report it. This kind of thing, a sex crime, is humiliating to a woman. And to the whole village. Like we can’t protect our own. Nikah told me she wouldn’t report it if it happened to her. Everyone knows it’s the victim who’s put on trial in court. And minorities never win, do they?” Lancer gave her and Granger an accusing stare, as though they were the enemy. “The village preferred to handle it themselves. Their way.”

  That had a sinister ring to it. “What do you mean, their way?”

  “You’ll have to ask them,” he said.

  The tactics these untrained villagers might employ distressed Sidney deeply. When civilians chose to take the law into their own hands, it didn’t end well. Innocent people got hurt. “So, Lancer, what was done to make the village safe?”

  “Everyone kept their guns close at hand. Armed and ready. More men patrolled the neighborhood at night, working in shifts. Including me. Didn’t do much good. We continued to find prints creeping from house to house. Two weeks ago, there was another rape attempt. The woman chased him away. There were rumors flying around that she’d been punched and strangled.”

  His next words surprised her.

  “That’s when the elders came down on me.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The woman gave them a partial description. It was dark, but she was certain he was a white guy. Approximate height, same build, and shoe size as me. Now everyone thinks I’m the Stalker.” Lancer stared straight ahead, blinking, breathing hard. “There’s not a scrap of proof, but that’s the real reason I got kicked out.” His gaze shifted to Granger. “Hell, Officer, you could be the Stalker. You’re about my height, same build. But no, the villagers decided it had to be me. Since then, I’ve been getting threatening text messages. A guy in the village told me if another woman got hurt, I was a dead man.”

  “Who specifically said that?”

  “Doesn’t matter who,” he said angrily. “It’s a collective threat.”

  “Humor me.”

  “Name’s Fitch.”

  “Fitch Drako,” Granger said. “Met him tonight at the saloon, Chief. Big guy. A drunk. Itching to crack someone’s head open. Preferably a cop.”

  Granger and Sidney shared a glance of mutual outrage. Violent men were running loose, raping, killing, threatening people’s lives, and law enforcement had been left in the dark.

  “Make a note to talk to this Fitch character,” Sidney said, and turned back to Lancer. “These threats didn’t keep you from going back to the village last week. Did you spend the night with Nikah?”

  “No. I told you. I just stopped by to pick up some clothes. Nikah and I haven’t seen each other since I moved out. She didn’t believe for a second that I was the Stalker. But she insisted I quit drinking before she’d see me again.” Tears welled in his eyes. “I wanted her back. I’ve been going to AA meetings every night. Lot of good it’s doing me now.”

  “Staying sober will do you a lot of good,” Sidney said. “That’s what Nikah wanted. Do it for her.”

  He held her gaze, and nodded.

  Her dispatcher crackled over the radio. “Yeah Jesse?”

  “Dr. Caulfield is at the ER waiting for you.”

  “Tell him we’ll be there in five.” She looked at Lancer and said gently, “Want to change your shirt? Grab a jacket?”

  Lancer looked shaken as he glanced down at the bloodstained shirt he was wearing. He grabbed a plaid flannel shirt from the pile of clothes on the floor and changed into it.

  Sidney asked, “You’re a roofer, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Since you’re off for the winter, it would be a good idea to leave town for a while. Give us time to find this stalker and the thugs who beat you. Your life appears to be in danger, and I don’t have the manpower to protect you.”

  “I have a winter job,” Lancer said. “Plowing snow. I intend to show up for work tomorrow.”

  “I’d listen to the chief,” Granger added. “Take a breather. It wasn’t hard for these two jokers to get into your house tonight. They might come back. Plus, you got folks riled up at Two Creeks. You don’t have an alibi for the night Nikah was killed, and you have a history of drunkenness and abuse.”

  Lancer winced. He leveled a heated gaze on Granger. “No one’s chasing me out of my home a second time.”

  Sidney sighed. Over her seventeen-year career, she’d witnessed too many seemingly intelligent people who put their lives at risk over misplaced pride, and pay a heavy price. �
��Okay, Lancer. Give it some serious thought. You’ve been warned. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  IT WAS AFTER 1:00 a.m. by the time Sidney wolfed down a peanut butter and jam sandwich and remembered to set the state-of-the-art alarm system, installed after Selena’s attack. In the event the alarm was triggered, the security company would contact the Garnerville police department, vis-à-vis her dispatcher, Jesse, who would in turn contact Sidney, thus completing a loop that would start and end at her address. An ironic smile touched her lips. If she had to be dragged out of bed to investigate a break-in, at least she could do it in her nightgown.

  Sidney’s muscles were tight with fatigue while her mind was a beehive of activity. She fantasized about driving to David’s house, stealing into his bedroom and melting into his warm embrace. Deep, stirring kisses and extraordinary sex was always the most effective sleep remedy. Instead, she climbed the stairs to her room, stripped off her uniform, and fell heavily into bed. She knew she would lay awake for some time, processing every detail of the day’s grim events.

  ***

  Sidney woke damp with sweat, heart pounding her rib cage. It took a while for the effects of a nightmare to loosen its hold, for her to realize she was home, safe in bed. The dream felt so real. She had been stumbling in a white, frozen world along a creek gripped in ice, her bare feet sinking into ankle-deep snow. Dressed in a thin nightdress, the cold assaulted her like ten thousand needles stinging her flesh. Then her limbs went numb, her knees buckled, and she collapsed. Heavy, menacing steps gained ground behind her. Panting breaths grew louder. A scream welled and lodged in her throat as a figure loomed over her, gloved hands reaching down...

  Heart racing, Sidney fumbled for her phone on the nightstand and she mumbled to Siri, “Call David Kane.”

  David answered in five heartbeats, his voice hoarse with sleep, “Sidney, are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she said, struggling to compose herself. “I had a horrible nightmare. It seemed so real. I still have goosebumps.” She swallowed, wetting her dry throat. “Sorry for waking you. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “I’m glad you called, and that you thought of me when you needed a hero. Not as good as having you here in my bed, though.” His deep voice filled her with a sense of calm, and longing. She imagined being pressed against his warm body, the soft hair on his chest tickling her flesh.

  “Rough day, huh?”

  “Pretty awful.” She didn’t tell him that when she closed her eyes the face of a dead woman stared up at her through ice. “But talking to you is helping.”

  “Want me to come over?” His voice sounded deliciously warm. “I could help you even more.”

  “There’s nothing I’d like more. But I have to say no.” Sidney stifled a yawn and glanced at the clock. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and she needed to be at work in three hours. “Need some shut eye. I won’t see much of it the next few days.”

  “No afternoon visit today, huh?”

  “No. Sorry.”

  “I’ll miss you.” His voice changed minutely, and she heard his disappointment. She felt the same.

  “Miss you, too,” she said softly.

  “Maybe later tonight? I can swing by for a bit. I don’t mind if you just use me for my body.”

  “Hmmm,” she smiled, thinking about his many talents. “Sounds enticing.”

  “Call me anytime. I’ll pop right up. I mean, right over.”

  “You devil,” she said, thinking about his sublime virility. “I’ll call if I get finished with work at a reasonable hour. I...” Sidney hesitated, catching herself. She almost said I love you. Careful. She and David had only been dating six weeks. Too soon to say those three thorny words. They implied something not yet established between them. Commitment. Something she was ready for. But was David? The thought that their relationship was just a convenience to him frightened her. She remembered the downward spiral she endured after she and Gable went their separate ways. Two long years of celibacy, and a melancholy that haunted her, especially when she was alone in the dark. “I…I hope you have a wonderful day,” she stammered. Groan. Lame.

  “Goodnight, beautiful,” he murmured.

  “Goodnight, David.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  AT 8:00 A.M., worn faces with puffy eyes stared back at Sidney from around the table in the conference room. Her entire staff was present, coffee mugs and pastries positioned within reach, laptops open. Winnie, the nerve center of the station and administrator extraordinaire, looked wide awake and alert, dressed fashionably in a purple turtleneck and big hoop earrings. She sat next to Selena, who had inadvertently become a valuable part of the investigation. Sidney gave her the official title of investigative consultant, which made her chest puff out a little at breakfast this morning.

  Sidney and Winnie arrived early to start a crime board, which now held an array of photos, including Nikah’s frozen corpse and Lancer Richards, bloodied, and tied to a chair.

  Standing at the head of the table, Sidney glanced up from her notes and opened the briefing. “This will be a short meeting. We have a lot to do, and not much to go on. We’re investigating two separate cases. We have two sexual assault victims, and a murdered woman, Nikah Tamanos, pulled out of Whilamut Creek yesterday. A burglar/rapist, coined the Stalker, is terrorizing Two Creeks Village. Two violent burglars ransacked Nikah’s home, and later, brutally beat Lancer. They were in search of these items, which I found stashed in a heating vent in Nikah’s bedroom.” Sidney pointed to a photo of the tin box and its contents. “Getting into the safe deposit box this morning may shed light on where this money came from, and who these thugs are.”

  Sidney paused to sip coffee from her mug, then filled in the details of the Stalker’s trail of crimes. “The Stalker is smart, and brazen. He enters homes while folks are sleeping, and he’s eluded detection for six months. We need to find out if any of these crimes are related.” Sidney paused to reflect on the photos, stroking her chin and turning possible angles over in her head.

  Amanda filled in the silence. “Maybe Nikah’s death is a separate incidence. A date gone horribly wrong. The extra toothbrush in her bathroom suggests she’d been seeing someone.”

  “And we know it wasn’t Lancer,” Sidney said.

  “My guess, Nikah’s murder was committed by the Stalker,” Granger said. “He’s been spying on the villagers for months. He’s a rapist. A woman alone in a secluded house would definitely have caught his attention.”

  Darnell weighed in. “The fact that his second rape attempt failed may have altered his M.O.”

  “That’s possible. The Stalker’s need for violent stimulation may be escalating,” Sidney said. “He’s gone from trespassing, to burglary, to rape. Murder may be the next logical step.”

  “Her death could be a hate crime,” Winnie piped up. As a woman of mixed race, she was highly sensitive to the rash of racially motivated crimes erupting across the country.

  “Let’s hope not,” Sidney said, taking another swig of coffee. She then related Lancer’s excommunication, and the threats of vigilantism by the Two Creeks villagers. “These crimes could trigger a racial war. I don’t believe Lancer’s the Stalker, but he fits the description of the man who is. We’re looking for a Caucasian male, about six–two, with a lean, muscular build. That puts Lancer right in the bullseye.”

  “And a lot of other white guys, too,” Winnie said, nodding toward Granger with a mischievous sparkle to her eye. She smiled and everyone laughed at the absurdity of it, including Granger.

  “We’re at the starting point,” Sidney said, casting her glance around the table. “Until we get lab and autopsy reports, we’re working blind. Keep scratching in the dirt until something tangible crops up.” She nodded at her forensic specialist. “How’d it go last night, Amanda?”

  “Long night. Could have used a lot more coffee,” she quipped. “Stewart and I went through every room, thoroughly. Everything we collected went to t
he lab.” Her brow furrowed and her tone held disappointment. “Unfortunately, the prints on the tin box were smudged, except for two partials. I couldn’t get a clear match from the database.”

  “Darnell, find anything on Nikah’s laptop?” Sidney asked.

  “Not much.” He sat forward in his seat. “Nothing popped out as suspicious. Her declared income matches her salary. Modest but regular deposits went into her savings every month. She was sensible about living on a budget.” He sighed. “No clue where she got that wad of cash.”

  Sidney noted his frustration and wondered if he’d gotten any sleep. She knew Darnell could get a case under his skin like an itch, as she did, and was unable to leave it alone.

  “As far as social media,” Darnell continued, “Lancer has no active accounts. His emails and texting were limited to work, a few friends, and Nikah. Nikah dabbled a little on Facebook and Twitter, but pretty mundane stuff. Downright boring, actually.”

  “Hmmm. No leads there.” Sidney went to the sideboard and refilled her mug. She stirred in two sugars and a half-inch of cream. “Well, let’s all get to work. Granger and I are heading over to the tribal council meeting. Darnell and Amanda, you two canvas Nikah’s neighbors. Selena, keep me posted on your meeting with Cadence. Winnie, get me a warrant from Judge Rosenstadt to open Nikah’s safe deposit box. Then prepare a press release, and notify the mayor we have another murder on our hands. Bare facts only.”

  “Gotcha. Lean and mean.” Winnie scribbled notes on her legal pad.

  “Stay alert. We got some dangerous folks running around out there half-cocked.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THOUGH THE ROAD that followed the gentle curve of Nenámooks Lake was freshly plowed, Sidney felt patches of ice under her tires, and drove cautiously. Wind-driven clouds raced across the sky, dragging shadows across the forest below. Snow transformed the landscape, burying everything familiar under rolling mounds of white.