by D. K. Hood
Jo nodded. “Okay, I’ll come with you. The scene is very important, if someone planted a bomb and the scene was staged as you suggested. I want to discover the mindset of the person behind this crime and his motive for killing an entire family.”
Four
The smell of burning eased a little when Jo pulled on the hood of her protective suit and secured the facemask. She was just about to speak to Wolfe when her phone buzzed. She dragged off her hood and pressed the phone to her ear. “Agent Wells.”
“Hi, Jo it’s Bobby.” Kalo sounded like a kid on the phone. “I have the information on the family who owns the ranch, Isaac and Connie Wood. Both are social workers out of Louan. Not as much as a parking ticket between them and Isaac inherited the ranch from his pa and moved there from Blackwater recently.” He sighed. “You know, depending on where people work, there might be a small amount of people who have an ax to grind with social workers. I had a few on my case, and many don’t always tell the truth.” He cleared his throat. “No, I’m gonna tell it like it is, Jo, some of them downright lied about me and to a judge and all.”
Jo stared at the smoldering house and at the small wisps of smoke still escaping from the ruins. “Well, it’s just as well we found you, isn’t it? I’m on scene now, so I’ll have to go. Thanks for the info. I’ll talk to you soon, bye.” She disconnected and pushed her phone into her pocket. As she secured her hood and mask again, she walked to Wolfe’s side. “Both husband and wife were social workers, no rap sheets.”
“Good to know but it doesn’t explain why someone would want to blow them up.” Wolfe pulled on gloves.
After Colt Webber, Wolfe’s intern, had filmed what was left of the house and taken photographs, Jo waited for Wolfe’s go-ahead to enter the ruins. Dressed in what could only be described as hazmat suits, Carter and Matt Thompson, climbed over the rubble at the front of the house. They would evaluate the explosion, as well as the position and composition of the bomb, and then collect samples from the crater for forensics testing. With Carter’s expertise in explosives and the fire chief’s input, Jo would receive a comprehensive report. Her expertise leaned more to the profile of the bomber and the victims. She prepared herself for a gruesome scene and followed Wolfe and Webber round the back of the house. She slowed as they reached the open backdoor and waited for Wolfe to issue orders. She peered inside the ruins of a once beautiful ranch house. The green paint had bubbled on the door and carried a thick coating of soot. Fire had licked the wall above and dirty rivulets of water from the firehoses dripped down to form black ash-laden puddles underfoot. Jo sensed Wolfe’s reluctance to take her inside to view the blackened remains and she met his gaze. “Let’s do this, I have seen fire victims before, Shane.”
“Two adults and there’s a child.” His eyes filled with deep sorrow. “It’s harder with kids.”
Kalo hadn’t mentioned the Woods’ children. Stomach flip flopping, Jo nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
Many victims lived in her memories but her thoughts went immediately to Carter. She had no idea how he’d handle the sight of a child’s burned corpse and hoped it wouldn’t trigger a PTSD episode. A warning of what to expect might soften the blow. She pressed her mic. “Carter.”
“Miss me already?” Carter’s voice came through her earpiece.
“Can you be serious for once in your life, Carter?” Jo picked her way through the soaked floor and into the kitchen. The horrific sight before her made her legs weak. “We have three vics. Two adults and a young child. It’s about the worst I’ve ever seen.”
“You never saw combat, huh? Crispy critters are all in a day’s work. I’ll be there to hold your hand soon. Carter out.”
His false bravado didn’t fool Jo, or his sudden lack of compassion. He’d adopted a typical self-protection mode. She snorted. If that’s what it took to get him through, she’d just have to deal with it. Jo stood in the doorway and surveyed the scene, avoiding the charred remains of the three people sitting around a kitchen table. She needed to take in the entire picture, to get a feel for the killer. He could’ve killed them in any of the rooms. Why sit them around the kitchen table and not use the dining room? A stack of dishes and pans sat beside the sink waiting to be rinsed before being stacked into the dishwasher and yet under the thick layer of ash, she made out the precisely set table complete with glasses. It was as if they’d just sat down to dinner. She’d counted three people but the table was set for four. Had the killer included himself in the family gathering? She scanned the room taking note of the melted microwave, electric kettle and toaster blackened and misshapen. The refrigerator door hung open and the seal around the door had dripped molten plastic onto the tiled floor. One side of the curtains over the kitchen sink had burned and the other side remained untouched. The sight of a singed calendar, with birthdays circled, made her stomach cramp. She heard Wolfe speaking and moved to his side. Clamping her lips shut to stop them trembling, she surveyed the pathetic remains of a family. “What did you say, Shane?”
“The killer restrained the family as I suspected. He left nothing to chance, there’s an open gas can over there.” Wolfe glanced at Webber. “Anything left to indicate a robbery?”
“No, the front of the house is destroyed, the stairs are impassable, but the car is still in the garage.” Webber frowned. “Who’d do this to a family?”
“Just a minute.” Jo pressed her mic. “Carter, if the intention was to kill the family, how come the front of the house is the main point of the explosion? The kitchen has mainly fire damage, can you explain?”
She heard him walk through the door, his boots crushing glass and debris underfoot and turned to watch his expression. His gaze flicked around the room and then rested on her.
“He used C-4 and an electronic detonator. Zorro found part of it outside.” Carter held up an evidence bag with a burned piece of metal inside. “The direction of the blast depends on the shape of the explosive. He wanted to blow out the front of the house. I figure he wanted the family alive for as long as possible, so they’d burn to death.” He glanced around and spotted the overturned gas can. “He made sure by pouring gas onto the floor.”
“I agree.” Matt Thompson walked in behind him, squatted down, and took samples from the kitchen floor. He straightened and made notes on a clipboard. “I’ve completed my preliminary report on the cause of the fire.” He signed the bottom of the sheet of paper, peeled a copy from underneath, and handed it to Wolfe. “Arson, caused by a C-4 explosion and he used gasoline as an accelerant. I’ve collected samples for analysis and will forward the final report in due course.” He tapped the top of the paperwork with his pen. “If necessary, you can contact me on that number.”
“Okay, thanks for coming out.” Wolfe handed the document to Webber.
“Any time.” Thompson shot a glance at Jo. “It’s not often I get to work alongside the FBI.” He gave her a wave and then picked his way out through the backdoor.
Jo stared after him and then looked at Wolfe. “Why exactly did you call him out here from Black Rock Falls?”
“I needed an expert and there’s none with his qualifications in any other town.” Wolfe met her gaze over his facemask. “Louan, like most of the towns, has a volunteer fire department and as lives were lost here, it comes down to the local fire chief to file a report. I’ll file one as well, it prevents any unfounded negligence lawsuits and is essential for insurance claims.”
“I can see remnants of zip-ties around this victim’s ankles.” Carter bent to examine the corpse. “Is it the same for all of them?”
“Yeah.” Wolfe frowned. “He tied them and made it look like they’re all sitting down to a family meal.”
“What do you see, Jo?” Carter moved to her side.
Jo swallowed the bad taste in her mouth. “The killer hates the family unit and wants to destroy it. I’d say someone took his family away from him. He wants to inflict as much suffering as possible and wants to make them pay for his pain.” She gl
anced at Carter. “We’ll need a complete rundown on the members of this family, what they did for a living, their friends, everything. I want to know why he picked them. This isn’t random, it’s been planned and executed with precision.”
“I’d be interested to know if the killer injured them.” Carter’s eyes narrowed over his mask. “I don’t believe a man would allow his wife and kid to be tied up without a fight.”
Jo’s attention had moved to the refrigerator. On the shelf sat two lunchboxes. Two pink lunchboxes. She walked around the table and stared at them. “Webber, did you get shots of the lunchboxes?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Webber nodded at her. “I captured everything in here including the open drawer and the knife block. If someone broke into their home, they had knives here so why didn’t they fight back? I found a gun locker under the stairs. It’s fireproof and untouched. No one had a chance to go for their weapons.”
“Maybe they knew him.” Carter shrugged. “We’ll check all the locks and see if any show signs of forced entry but it will be difficult to prove after the explosion.”
An overpowering feeling of dread slid over Jo as she turned to Carter. “Two pink lunchboxes. Only one child. Where’s the sheriff?” She turned and ran out the backdoor.
She found the sheriff leaning up against his cruiser. “How many people lived here?”
“Four. Mr. and Mrs. Wood and two daughters, Jody and Sophie.” The sheriff wiped a handkerchief over his sweaty brow.
Chills ran down Jo’s neck. “How old are the girls?”
“Let me see. Jody would be about five and Sophie maybe fourteen, I guess.” The sheriff frowned. “Why?”
Jo stared at him through the Perspex shield covering her face. “We have one missing.”
Five
The Whispering Caves
Sophie wanted to die. Trapped deep inside the catacombs, there was no escape. The dark tunnels dripped water, and wind rushed through them like a thousand souls screaming for redemption. The catacombs breathed, moving air back and forth in waves, bringing with it the touch of unseen hands over her flesh. The sensation terrified her. Cold crawled from the rock and all she had was a filthy blanket for protection. He’d taken everything, her family, her decency, and left her curled in the dirt like a filthy naked worm. A living, breathing shell remained, devoid of hope. The filthy mattress under her reeked of urine and everywhere she turned, the stink from the animal scat covering the hard ground accosted her. Rats skittered by and if the lamp went out, they’d eat her alive. She wanted to block out the horror but the moment she closed her eyes, the image of her family tied to the chairs and the explosion spun through her mind in relentless torment.
She’d cried until her head threatened to split open in agony but the man who’d taken her didn’t care. He’d make it clear it was his decision if she lived or died and slapped her face so hard her teeth ached. She moved her dry tongue over the cut on her lip and a metallic taste filled her mouth. The thought of him touching her again made her retch. He’d left her after adjusting a trail cam and told her he’d be watching her every move. If she screamed, or tried to escape, he’d know. Her cries would bring the bears roaming the caves and he’d enjoy watching them eat her alive. He’d left her nothing, no food or water, and tethered her by linked zip-ties to a metal loop hammered into solid rock. The tie around her ankle cut deep into her flesh but she’d become dead inside. She had no room to move and lay back staring at the dancing bugs surrounding a small pool of light from the lamp hanging above her.
Cobwebs fluttered in the breeze and a fat spider weaved a cocoon around a struggling moth. She’d die here just like the moth. There was no hope of escape. She was deep in the Whispering Caves, a place closed to the public. Nobody came here and people told tales of ghosts haunting the tunnels in hushed voices. Everyone who’d cared for her had perished in the fire. Not a soul knew what had happened to her.
A beam of a flashlight followed by the crunch of footsteps had alerted a colony of bats and they dashed past her, shrieking in a cloud of black flapping wings. The light blinded her but she recognized the voice of her tormentor and pulled the blanket around her and looked away. The sight of his dark eyes peering at her through the holes in the balaclava terrified her. When he stopped in front of her, she wet her lips. “Why are you keeping me here?”
“Do you feel like a puppy?” The man grasped her chin forcing her to look at him. “Taken from your mommy to be owned by someone?”
Unable to control a sob, Sophie trembled. “You can’t own people. You don’t own me.”
“Oh, but I do. I can do whatever I want with you.” He chuckled. “I can cut you into little pieces if I want. You can’t stop me but if you cooperate, I’m willing to trade.”
Sophie stared at him in disbelief. “I have nothing to trade. You’ve taken everything I own.”
“Oh, but you do.” His gloved fingers stroked her cheek. He pulled a small bottle of water from his pocket and one half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “What will you trade me for this?”
Six
Black Rock Falls
Jenna leaned back in the seat of the Beast, Kane’s unmarked vehicle, and considered the afternoon. She’d spoken to the car thief and made it quite clear she didn’t intend to play games with him. Sometimes young guys figured her as an easy sell until they met her face to face. After dealing with serial killers, interviewing a smart-mouthed car thief was a walk in the park. She’d discovered his name was Harvey Haralson. His story was, he’d found the vehicle abandoned not far from the Triple Z Bar north of town and rather than wait for the bus, had decided to drive into town and then dump the sedan on Main. She’d appointed him a lawyer, and as he’d admitted to stealing the vehicle, she’d charged him and arranged a ride to county for him to await a court hearing. The rest of the afternoon had dragged and by five, she couldn’t leave the office fast enough. She’d been looking forward to going out to dinner with Kane for weeks.
It turned out to be a beautiful evening. The rain of the previous week had left everything fresh and clean. The grasslands and people’s gardens seemed to have suddenly come alive with color. She stared out the window as they turned into Main. A crowd of people, dressed for a night out, were making their way to the opening of Antlers, the new western bar. The town had needed a place where regular people could eat a meal, cut a rug, and have some hometown fun any day of the week. She glanced at Kane and grinned. “I’m sure glad we made reservations for a table a week ago.”
“Not everyone in town can afford the Cattleman’s Hotel prices, and with all the tourists dropping by, we needed something better in town than the Triple Z Bar.” He chuckled and joined the line into the parking lot. “It was pure genius to insist they gave the sheriff’s department reserved parking. I can still see the owner’s face, when you insisted it was in his best interest if we had a place to park in times of trouble.”
Jenna grinned. “Yeah, well all bars have fights and this place being smack in the middle of Main, we needed a place to park.”
“It’s going to be good to have somewhere to let our hair down in town.” Kane slid into the reserved parking space and turned off the engine. “I’d forgotten how much I missed dancing until Jake’s wedding. We had a ball that night and in truth, we needed a few days snowed in to get over it.” His lips curled into a smile. “This place will be perfect.”
“Of course, the twenty-two-ounce prime ribeye they have on the menu has nothing to do with it?” Jenna laughed. “Oh, look, Jake and Sandy are right behind us.”
“Hey, big turn out.” Rowley gave them a wave as he climbed out of his truck. “I hope we don’t have to wait too long to be served, I’m starving.” He held out his hand to his wife, Sandy, and they headed toward the bar.
Black Rock Falls was a great place to live. Everyone they met greeted them and the townsfolk were in high spirits as they made their way in a procession to the tavern. As sheriff it meant a lot to Jenna that the townsfolk accept
ed her and her deputies as normal people when they were off- duty. Once seated, they chatted while waiting for Wolfe and Emily to arrive. Jenna leaned back to absorb the atmosphere of the new establishment. Tables were surrounded by a large polished wood dancefloor and on a small stage, instruments were set out for the band. For now, music drifted through the speakers, hardly recognizable above the chatter inside. The crowded bar ran down one wall and was surrounded by people jostling to order. Her gaze scanned the walls. Framed rodeo posters and elk heads adorned the wood paneling. The place had incorporated the old west flavor of a saloon, with swinging doors leading to the restrooms. She’d planned to wait before ordering, so they could all enjoy their meal together but before the server arrived to take their order, her phone buzzed. It was Shane Wolfe. “Hi Shane, we’re already seated. How long are you behind us?”
“We can’t make it tonight. There was a fire out of Louan, three victims. I’m going to be working on them tonight.”
“Oh, that’s terrible, is there anything we can do to help?” Jenna stuck one finger in her ear to make out what he was saying. “We can stop by after we’ve eaten.”
“No, it’s fine, we have it covered. Have a good night. We’ll talk later.” He disconnected.
Bewildered by his coldness toward her, Jenna stared at the screen. She turned to Kane. “Wolfe and Em can’t make it. He’s working on victims of the fire out of Louan. He’s doing autopsies tonight.” She frowned. “He didn’t say too much.”