“He wants our attention now,” Zach said.
“Well, he’s got it,” Jack fired back.
“You said a bicyclist found him?” I asked, trying to focus on the case itself and not the remains.
“Yeah. About seven this morning. Name’s Heath Pierce. Said he was biking for exercise.” Pike pointed toward a cruiser with two men inside. For privacy purposes, on-scene statements were often taken in police vehicles. “Officer Phelps is with him now.”
My eyes drifted to the remains, but I didn’t let my gaze linger there.
What nightmares are made of… The words that would forever be associated with my first case as an FBI agent. It applied today as much as it had then. That investigation had required us to hunt a killer who had ritualistically killed and buried his victims, even went so far as to grind up his victim’s intestines, but today… Looking at what was before us, this was pretty much just as bad.
I swallowed an involuntary lump of bile, and bitterness coated my mouth and throat.
Zach must have caught the sour expression on my face, and he was smirking at me. I swear he’d be laughing if he felt it appropriate. How he kept himself composed given the situation, I had no idea.
Then I heard the retching, the heaving…
An officer was bent over some long grass, and a few seconds later, he came up wiping his mouth.
“Based on the dump location, our unsub wanted this body found, but it was placed in such a spot that it would be hard to see from a car just driving past,” I concluded.
“The unsub was going at it from a shock-factor standpoint. He carries out his ritual in an intimate manner, and while he seems to be looking for acknowledgment for what he’s done, he also wanted the person who found his victim to have an intimate experience.” All this came from Zach, and it made sense to me.
“If that’s the case, he’d want to see the reaction of the person who found the body, of our reaction,” Paige added.
Zach glanced over the area. “He’d want a front-row seat. He could have dumped the body and hung out, waiting.”
“That’s brazen.” The words just came out.
“It is, but we’re not exactly looking for a man who is shy about what he does—at least not anymore. Make sure to have your officers on the lookout for Stanley Gilbert,” Jack barked to Pike.
“On it.” Pike walked off in the direction of several officers.
“If Stanley’s behind this, either he’s back in Savannah or his partner is acting solo,” I surmised. My gaze went back to the victim. This time I managed to keep my stomach calm. “What is the killer doing with their hearts?”
“He could be eating them,” Zach said with a shrug.
I supposed nothing at this point should surprise me.
Moving on…
We weren’t any closer to identifying the other remains, and the reconstruction of the face from the skull found on Wednesday still hadn’t come through. We just knew it was another male in his twenties. Had that been Eric Morgan or were we looking at him now? We’d have to wait to find out.
“It would probably be a good idea to make sure the back of the victim’s skin is swabbed for foreign DNA,” Zach said, and we looked at him. “If he’s doing the Mayan ritual, he’d be laying the skin over himself.”
No one said anything to that. I was just trying to hold myself together. Jack was standing back, appearing like a stone wall, like nothing could penetrate him no matter how horrible or heinous. And Paige was staring at the body.
“I’d say we should get authorization to forward this to a private lab,” Zach added.
“I’ll make the call,” Jack said.
When Pike returned to us, Jack asked, “When is the medical examiner expected to be here?”
“Should be soon.”
“We’ve got to rush the autopsy on this,” Jack said.
Pike nodded. “Yes, I know, and I’ll make sure that Garrett realizes that.”
Crime scene investigators swarmed in like locusts over the area, combing each blade of grass for evidence that could provide a lead. Two came over to the body—one taking photos and sharing her observations, the other looking on and making notes. They carried out their jobs as if they saw this sort of thing every day.
The one taking pictures hunched next to the body. “The victim’s heart was removed.” She took some images and then touched the victim’s facial tissue with a gloved hand and opened his mouth. “His tongue has been removed.”
Another picture.
Paige turned to Zach. “Was tongue removal part of Mayan culture?”
Zach shook his head. “No, but it seems our killer allows for some diversion from the ritual, remember?”
“Like what else?” I asked.
Pike’s head was going back and forth following our conversation.
“The skin for one. Sometimes he removes it, sometimes he doesn’t,” Zach replied. “Then the tongue. Without having other remains, we can’t say if he always does this. If we are looking at someone else working with Stanley, that could account for the differences. Each killer would vary the ritual slightly.”
Pike was staring at Zach. “Why do you think he cut the tongue out of this victim?”
“As I mentioned, it’s hard to know if it’s this one specifically or if it’s always the case,” Zach replied.
Pike nodded, but I wasn’t satisfied.
“Is he trying to keep them silent? Is it literal or more symbolic? Did he remove the tongue when the man was alive?” The questions were pouring out of me, and I found it hard to stop. Our job was to assign logic where there didn’t appear to be any, and so far, we were failing.
-
Chapter 29
JACK ASKED PAIGE TO SPEAK to Heath Pierce, the man who had found the body. Zach followed her to the patrol car where Heath was inside giving his statement to an officer.
Another officer, seasoned and probably nearing retirement, stepped toward them. “He’s a real wreck. Can’t stop shaking. We’ve offered to call an ambulance for him, but he’s adamant that he’s fine. But that boy is far from fine.” The officer hitched up his pants. “I can’t imagine being in his shoes, coming across that. Lord Jesus.” He was shaking his head and seemed lost in a world all his own.
“No one should have to witness something like that.” And when Paige said no one, she literally meant just that.
“Did you run a background on him?” Zach asked the officer.
“Yeah, a quick one. No marks against him.” The officer paused there, but Paige saw in his eyes that he seemed to debate whether or not to say something else. A few seconds later, he came out with it. “Are you thinking he’s behind the murder? I mean, first person to find the body is usually a suspect, but I thought you had a person of interest. Stanley…Gilbert? Something like that? I saw the BOLO and the picture issued to the media.”
A reporter was creeping his way closer to the cruiser. Paige glanced at Zach to keep the man back.
Zach went over and held up his hand. “You’re going to have to leave this area.”
“The public deserves to know the truth. Is Stanley Gilbert a killer? Did he strike again?”
“Go. Now. If you don’t leave on your own, we’ll—”
“What? You’ll make me?” the reporter scoffed.
“If you want to go to jail, fine by me.” Zach made a move toward him.
The reporter held up his hands and retreated. “Fine.”
Zach returned to where Paige and the officer were standing, and the driver’s-side door to the cruiser opened. The officer who had been speaking with Heath regarded his colleague briefly, then spoke to Zach. “I have his general statement. He’s having a hard time dealing with all of this, though.”
“I’ll just be a minute or two,” Paige said.
The officer looked at her
. “Be sure to keep to that. We’re going to be taking him to the hospital to have him checked out.”
She nodded. The officer stepped to the side, allowing her to slip into the driver’s seat.
Heath Pearce was in his twenties with dark hair and green eyes. He was biting his lip until she looked directly in his eyes, at which time his mouth froze, his teeth stuck to his bottom lip, and they slowly slid off and released.
“My name is Paige.” She offered a pleasant smile. “I’m with the FBI.”
“Heath.”
She nodded. “I understand that you’ve already given a brief statement to the local police, but I was hoping you could talk to me for a few minutes.”
“Uh, sure.” His voice was shaky, uncertain despite his words, and he was fidgeting.
“Given what you’ve witnessed, it’s perfectly normal for you to be having a hard time processing it,” she said.
He bobbed his head. “Yeah.”
“Can you tell me why you were going by this stretch of road this morning?” She treaded delicately so he wouldn’t get stressed out and raise his defenses.
“I always ride along here in the morning for exercise. I don’t work until three in the afternoon.” His eyes met hers as he spoke. “I’m an early riser.”
“Is there anyone who can verify this?”
“My roommate.”
“And who’s your roommate?”
“Jeff Martin.”
Paige made a note of his name. “Where do you work, Heath?”
“I’m just a stocking clerk at Clancy’s.”
Paige’s breath hitched. Colin West had worked at a grocery store by that name. Could this Clancy’s be the same place? She’d bench that line of inquiry for a minute. “So you were just riding along and spotted the deceased?”
“Yeah.” His eyes glazed over then. “I didn’t know what it was at first. I just knew it wasn’t…” He didn’t finish his sentence.
“Did you touch the—”
“Yuck.” Heath started rocking back and forth. “Absolutely not.”
Paige pulled up a photo of Stanley on her phone and held it across the console for Heath to see. “Do you know this man?” As he looked at the picture, she studied his reaction for any small tells of recognition but didn’t see any.
Heath shook his head. “I’ve never seen him.”
“Does the name Stanley Gilbert sound familiar to you?”
A few seconds passed, and Heath shook his head.
They’d verify his exercise schedule with his roommate, but she didn’t think Heath was hiding anything from her. All that would change, though, if they found his prints on the remains, seeing as he’d said he never touched them.
“I have another question for you, Heath. Do you know Colin West?”
His voice contorted as he seemed to give it some thought. “The name sounds familiar.”
“It might be a reach, but he used to work at the same grocery store as you five years ago.”
“Ah, that’s why I recognize it. Yes, I knew him. He just up and disappeared or something. Rumor was he took off to Hollywood, wanted to be a star.”
Paige’s heart sank. “His parents think he might have met with some trouble.”
“All that was rumor as I said. I don’t know for sure.”
“What was he like?” She was curious if there’d be any discrepancies between what the parents thought and a peer’s impressions.
“He was the life of the party. All the girls wanted him, and all the guys wanted to be him.”
“He was sure of himself? Confident?”
“Absolutely.” Heath looked away briefly. “I’m not sure how to say this, and it doesn’t really matter, but he wasn’t in the best physical shape.”
Paige recalled the picture of the overweight young man. “From the sounds of it Colin didn’t let that bother him.”
“Not at all.”
“You would never describe him as a wallflower, someone who was passive?” Paige pushed once more.
A small chuckle and it was like Heath had forgotten why he was in a squad car to start with.
Paige smiled at him. “I guess not.”
Heath nodded. “You guessed right.”
“What about drugs? Did Colin use?”
Heath’s eyes went beyond her to all the cops in the area.
“No one is going to get in trouble. Just tell me.”
“Yeah, he used. Weed, cocaine, whatever came to him.”
“Thanks.” She got out of the car and gestured for Zach to come over. “Heath has an alibi we’ll check out, but it turns out he works at the same grocery store Colin West did, and they knew each other.”
“Really? Small world.”
“That’s what I thought, and Heath had a completely different opinion of Colin than his parents did,” she said.
“Not a complete surprise.”
Paige nodded. “We know that Jesse Holt was in Cancun when Colin went missing.” She attributed finger quotes to missing. “Holt used drugs, and Heath said Colin did as well. What if it was just something as simple as a drug dealer taking Colin out and disposing of the body?”
“Could be, Paige, but that’s not our case.”
“I know, but you saw how broken up the Wests were. I just wish we could get them some answers.”
“Have Pike get someone on it,” Zach suggested.
And she had every intention of doing just that.
-
Chapter 30
HE WATCHED THE POLICE AND investigators as he drove slowly past the crime scene. Officers were directing traffic and merging flow from both directions into one lane. But he felt safe as one of many vehicles driving along this stretch of road. Word of the murder must have already circulated among the gossipers and was bringing people out. Normally this area wasn’t heavy with traffic. He was happy it was today, however. It gave him more time to observe what he had created.
Nearing the location where he’d dumped the body, he spotted the same four Feds he’d seen on the news. They were all standing there looking pensive as they tried to analyze both the murder and the man behind it. He’d love to know what they were thinking.
His heart was pounding in his chest from the pure exhilaration of watching it all. Who would have thought he’d enjoy having his work out there? But he did. Again, the divine knew better than he did who was grounded in the physical. The flooding had actually been a blessing.
While he had been robbed of the sacredness of this ritual, there were some benefits. He would finally receive the honor, praise, and acknowledgment.
And he should have been fine to leave things like that, to walk away, to go back to the way things used to be. But he was starting to like the thought of becoming infamous, of being feared, of being hunted.
Ah, yes.
His smile took over his face. He would show them all that he was more than a conquering warrior. They would bend at the knees before him and beg him for mercy, but he would turn them away.
He was looking out the window, and he met the gaze of the youngest agent. A redheaded guy. He seemed to stare right through him.
Did he somehow know? A sliver of human fear creeped through him. What if he was found and stopped before he was done?
Center yourself, dear one…
He approached the end of the detour, and a hoard of press was gathered behind the police barricade. All except one, who had finagled his way past. His microphone had the logo of a local radio station.
He tuned in as he merged back on to the open road.
“…body found along Grove Point Road near Shore Road. Avoid this area as traffic is being constricted to one lane. It’s unknown who the victim is or the state of the remains. We have to wonder if this is related to the remains pulled from the Little Ogeechee River…
> “The FBI have a prime suspect and a nationwide manhunt is underway for a man named Stanley Gilbert. His picture can be found on our website. If you see this person, call the FBI or police immediately as he’s believed to be dangerous…”
“No!” He yelled and smacked his palm against the steering wheel. How could they believe that? This work was his and his alone!
His breathing became labored, his nostrils flaring with rage.
He sped home, parked in the garage, and closed the door. Rushing to his private room, he logged onto his computer and brought up an Internet browser and searched Stanley Gilbert FBI.
Results filled the screen and confirmed his fears. Everything the reporter on the radio had said was verified before him in black-and-white.
How dare Stanley receive the credit! The glory!
While he struggled to assume control over his thoughts, the darkness took over—or was it the light? There was no time for lying low now, nor did he want to, and he knew exactly who he was going to sacrifice next.
-
Chapter 31
“WE NEED TO FIND STANLEY GILBERT,” Jack roared that afternoon back at the precinct.
I hated to point out the obvious to Jack, but we’d been trying to do exactly that for days now with no luck. At least his request to have the DNA from the roadside victim tested and processed by a private lab had been approved. I didn’t want to imagine what his mood would have been otherwise.
“We also need to tie him to the three ingredients in the paint,” I said.
Jack cast me a sideways glance as he paced the room.
I was either brave or stupid to bring up something else we needed to do in connection with Stanley.
“Just a quick interjection here, Jack,” Paige said.
“What is it?”
“I was able to verify Heath’s alibi with his roommate.”
Jack nodded.
Paige looked at me. “Going back to Stanley, though, I think we should take a look at his home, not just the cabin.”
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