Lost Girls: A gripping thriller that will have you hooked (Ben Forrester FBI Thrillers Book 1)

by Jon Mills

  Instead agents were the ones who had to carry those grisly details around with them in their head. It was the stuff of nightmares. They got to see the underbelly of the world and take it home.

  “You have any leads on the guy?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah, we’ve developed a profile of him. Disorganized, young, thin probably living within a mile radius of the killings.”

  It wasn’t a guarantee that profiling would lead to the capture, but it definitely narrowed the search and often was accurate. It made searching a little easier. It gave the local police pounding the pavement someone to look for and it ruled out the nut jobs that would come forward claiming they had done the murders. It never ceased to amaze him how many innocent oddballs would turn themselves in just so they could claim the title of a serial killer and have their fifteen minutes of fame.

  But that title wasn’t anything to be proud about.

  “Well, hey, I’ve got to go. Speak soon.”

  “Good to hear from you, Nate.”

  After hanging up he had to wonder if Nate called him out of need more than concern. For years they’d been a sounding board for each other. So much had changed. But that hadn’t.

  Ben glanced again at the folder, then picked it up and opened it.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was a media circus. It was believed the family had contacted them. The chief wanted to keep it all low-key and let the Maine Warden Service and search-and-rescue try to locate the other girl. But the parents weren’t satisfied.

  The missing girl was Helen Hayes, a resident of Ellsworth, Maine.

  Ellsworth was a small city and the county seat of Hancock County situated on the mainland. It was a short drive but one that was filled with dread. It never got easy, but at least another officer had done the hard part. Every parent handled disappearances differently. Some would leap into action and be actively involved in the search party while others just went to pieces.

  By the time Dakota drove up to the Hayes house on Chapel Street it was evening and the rain was hammering the windshield. Outside the local Ellsworth police had cordoned off the area and were trying to keep back a barrage of media and neighbors. Some of them were already pointing the finger at the police for not doing enough. The previous disappearances didn’t get as much attention because the bodies were found within a matter of days and ruled an accident. It wasn’t like the National Park Service wasn’t forthright in letting the public know of the dangers of hiking in the mountains of Acadia. They made it clear with a big yellow caution sign that let hikers know that people had been injured and even died on the mountainsides.

  Now if all the bodies had shown no sign of ligature marks, then maybe the public wouldn’t have been so outraged. But Rachael Taylor and the Phelps girl were the first two to have been strangled. And Rachael, the first to show signs of knife wounds.

  Dakota pulled up and flashed her badge to one of the officers outside. She parked just beyond the house. Chief Danvers was already on scene along with state police. Dakota glanced back at the mob that was gathered outside and shook her head. Had they called in the FBI after the third death, perhaps the other girls could have been spared a similar fate.

  Inside the home it wasn’t much better. The moment the chief caught sight of Dakota he came over.

  “This is spiraling out of control real fast. Do you know who leaked this to the media?”

  “The family.”

  He shook his head, exasperated.

  “Where are they?”

  “Through there but just be careful what you say. The father is already irate as it is.”

  “By the way, did they get any fibers, prints, or DNA from the body of the Taylor girl?” Dakota asked.

  “Nothing. Clean as a whistle.”

  Danvers led the way. Inside it was a typical home. Nothing fancy. Hardwood floors, a two-story, three-bedroom home. The Hayes family had two children. Inside the living room was a black upright piano, two couches, and a fireplace.

  “Is this the FBI?” the father immediately blurted out.

  “No, I’m Detective Woods, well, Officer Woods but I'm kind of in between training.”

  She glanced at Danvers who shook his head.

  “Please tell me you have got an idea where our baby is?”

  She took a deep breath. There was only one thing worse than telling a family that their son or daughter was dead. It was telling them you had no idea where they were.

  “We are looking into it. Is there anyone that you know who might have wanted to harm Helen?”

  The father blew out his cheeks and went over to the fireplace. Helen’s mother, who was perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes red from crying, spoke. “No, she kept to herself. A good kid. She was really looking forward to graduating from college and becoming a marine biologist.”

  “What about friends?”

  “Other than Rachael, there were a couple of other girls but we have already called their homes and she’s not there.”

  “You don’t think she would have run away?”

  The very mention of it sent the father into a rage. “Oh no, you are not going to try to spin this around. She has a good home. Good grades. There’s nothing that would give her reason to run. Someone has taken her.”

  “We’re not exactly sure about that right now, Mr. Hayes. Um, so this camping trip, what do you know about it?”

  The mother dabbed the corner of her eyes with a tissue before replying. “It was to be a four-day getaway. I don’t understand it. Blackwoods Campground gets campers all the time. It’s safe. There are lots of people there. How could she go missing?”

  “Acadia is massive,” the chief said. He wasn’t kidding. It had twenty-six glacier-carved mountain peaks. The forest which covered over 42,000 acres was full of lakes and ponds and over 120 miles of trails. The terrain of rugged shorelines, deep woods, and open mountain summits could be treacherous even to the savviest hikers. Then if the weather was bad, search parties were called off in a matter of days and people would never be seen again. That’s what made it the perfect hunting ground for a predator. Add to that, frequent disappearances in national parks all across the United States and it was rare for anyone to jump to the conclusion that a serial killer was behind them. It was usually notched up as animals, or hiker’s error.

  “You have my word, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes. We will find her and catch whoever did this,” she said.

  “Excuse us,” Danvers raised a finger. “We’ll be right back.”

  Danvers did his best job to strong-arm Dakota out of the room without making it look like he was bothered by what she’d said. Outside he closed the doors behind him.

  He immediately got right up in her face. “What are you doing?”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “You go telling them that someone is behind the disappearance and state police and FBI will be all over this.”

  Dakota shook her head and scoffed. “And that’s a problem? We could use all the help we can get.”

  “We already have enough people out there right now searching.”

  “You still think this is just a case of two people who got lost? People who go for a hike and turn up dead, Chief, don’t have ligature marks around their neck or signs of being raped.”

  “People are into kinky sex nowadays. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  Dakota put her hands on her hips and shook her head in disbelief. It wasn’t that the chief was ignorant. He was juggling many hats in the town.

  Danvers took a deep breath and cast a glance around him. “You know how many homicides we have dealt with in Eden Falls since I’ve been chief?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

  “Two, and those were personal disputes. Now I fully intend to keep it that way. The town manager likes it that way. Tourists like it that way. The National Park Service likes it that way. Until we have more details from the coroner this is not a homicide. I want it to be treated that way. It’s a missin
g case. It’s suspicious but just a missing case. I’m sure the Hayes girl will be found alive and we’ll find out that this was all just a bad sex game that went wrong.”

  It was all about appearances. Keeping the stats low. Making the powers that be happy.

  “You really think that’s the case? What, you think the Hayes girl stabbed her friend in some weird sex game and then ran off? It’s still murder no matter how you spin this.”

  “I’m not having this conversation with you. Go do your job.”

  With that he turned around and went back into the living room.

  Chapter Thirteen

  He shifted his position in the thick oak tree, feeling his foot cramp up. He’d been crouched for the better part of an hour watching her move from one room to the next. The aroma of smoke coming from a neighbor’s fire reached his nostrils. It was sweet and pungent. In June the evenings were warm, slightly humid but perfect for watching them. He was breaking the routine but with police all over the campgrounds the chance of snatching one of those lovelies was virtually impossible.

  But he wasn’t going to stop. He couldn’t.

  At ten o’clock in the evening, darkness wrapped itself around the small town of Eden Falls. It seeped into the narrow alleys and small streets where only a few porch lights glowed.

  He had nestled himself into an oak a short distance from the house. That was the beauty of Acadia, it swallowed many of the homes, making it easy to watch them. So many times he’d been tempted to pluck a few from their beds but that was risky. The campgrounds and late-night hikers were so much easier. They were used to the sound of branches snapping and the rustle of animals. He often felt like an animal crouched in the darkness waiting for his prey.

  Tracking them was as much a part of the sexual excitement that fueled his fantasy as was the moment he struck. Staying hidden, slipping through the trees unnoticed, even catching them skinny-dipping in the lake.

  He breathed in deeply, letting the aroma of the forest fill his lungs. He shifted again, getting hard at the thought of hunting another. One was never enough. There was only so much exhilaration found in holding them captive and making them do whatever he wanted. It was never enough. It could be better. He could take longer watching them. He licked his lips and felt his mouth go dry gazing at her. He brought out his gleaming knife and rubbed his thumb over the edge sideways just to feel how sharp it was. He gripped the stun gun in his pocket for the third time just to be sure it was still there.

  They always wanted to know why? Why them? Walking around with those tight shorts on in the summer. Some of them even had letters printed on the back of their ass. Why them? They were like a beacon, beckoning him to reach out and taste what lay beneath all those clothes.

  He ran the tip of his tongue around the outside of his teeth then bit lightly down on his bottom lip, savoring the fantasy. He wasn’t sure what he liked more — the fact that he got away with it, or the thrill of walking among the townsfolk without them knowing.

  He knew freedom that few men would experience. Oh the thought had slipped through their minds, and some had even attempted to do what he had mastered but they were amateurs. And so were the police. The public gave the police too much credit. If they only knew how tied their hands were or how little they knew about catching predators, they wouldn’t even phone for help.

  God, this location was fantastic. The house was nestled deep into the heart of his hunting ground. There were no floodlights to stop him. Even if the girl screamed, it wouldn’t matter. Who was going to hear her out here? The closest neighbor was a good distance away.

  He wanted to take more, but he had to be careful. Two a year, that was it. Usually spaced out by a month. Sure, the last time it had gone wrong but that wasn’t his fault. Anyway, now he could even it out. It was all a matter of timing. He was in no rush, especially since he loved it.

  The girl came back into view, her dark flowing hair, her perky little breasts protruding beneath that summer top. A yellow lab followed her into the living room. That wasn’t going to be a problem. He’d brought the steak doused with a little special seasoning to keep it quiet.

  His eyes ran the full length of her legs as she curled up on a sofa. She was athletic and had been kissed by the sun just enough to give her skin a delicious buttery appearance. Every second he watched he wanted to take her. Wait, just hold on a little longer and she will be yours, he told himself. He’d seen her around town. She was the kind of girl that took care of herself. She wasn’t like the others who flaunted themselves like sluts. Those bitches got what they deserved. This time he gripped the blade in his hand, feeling it cut into his skin just a little. The fine line between pain and pleasure, oh how he loved to rock back and forth between the two.

  She lay down, bringing her feet up behind her as she read a book. He watched her toes dance around. The urge to bite them made his pulse race. Oh, he wasn’t stupid, a female like that would never go for him outside of doing this. Sure, people respected him but that wasn’t enough. He didn’t want respect. He wanted to dominate them. And he did.

  By day, he observed them like he had in school. Too big. Too thin. Too ugly. Too much makeup. Too arrogant. They had to be just right. Everything from the way their ass curved, to the thickness of their thighs. It wasn’t just the coeds he took. No, occasionally there were those in their thirties and forties that caught his attention. He laughed silently at them as they tried to pretend they were in control. He watched them set up their tents, hike out into the forest, and give out advice as if they were God. But they weren’t. He was. They just didn’t know it yet.

  Where was she? He’d taken his eyes off her for just a brief moment. His eyes frantically scanned the downstairs and upstairs. Every room was lit up, giving him a clear shot. Where are you? Then he heard the sliding door open. Oh, there you are. The lab bounded out, and she followed. He swallowed hard at the anticipation of taking her. The dog sniffed the air then looked in his direction. He didn’t move an inch. There was no need. The darkness of the night and his black clothes and mask shrouded him. The only thing visible was his eyes. He brought his lids down to a slit. He didn’t want the glow from the house to reflect or give away his position. He’d spent far too long building up to this.

  “What’s up, boy?”

  The dog was barking up a storm. Shut the hell up, he thought. The tall, slender girl looked towards him, her eyes squinting.

  “There’s nothing there, silly dog. Come on in.”

  She turned and padded back into the house. The dog gave a deep growl then followed in her shadow. His eyes followed her back through the house as she went to the fridge and took out a bottle of milk. She poured herself a glass and downed it. A creamy white remained at the corners of her mouth, only exciting him more. As she turned to go back into the living room, she twisted her hair up and grabbed a wooden hairpin to hold it in place. She switched on the TV, grabbed a magazine off the side table and flipped through it. She sat in a large round wicker chair, opening and closing her legs as if she was clapping her knees. Did she know he was here? Was she baiting him to come and pluck her innocence? He was going to take his time with this one. Her death wasn’t going to come fast. They would play first. Days of playing. He wanted to trace every inch of her body with his blade. The thought of teasing her nipples with the tip sent his mind into overdrive.

  He was sick, he knew that. At least that’s the way society saw him. But everyone was sick in their own way. They lived within the restraints, claiming they were free. They were slaves to a society that hedged them, gave them rules, and subtly shaped them from childhood into what they wanted. A polite and kind member of society. It was foolish.

  He embraced his darkness. It was within every man and woman, but only a few stared down into the abyss. Even fewer dropped in. If they only knew what it was like in there. How good it felt to be liberated from the borders society had placed on them.

  He had returned to his primal state. It was fierce and wild but eve
ry bit perfect.

  The sound of gravel being chewed up caught his attention. His eyes darted to two beams of light flickering in the trees. It was getting closer. In the distance he could see the vehicle now.

  He slipped the ten-inch serrated knife into its sheath and pulled back into darkness.

  A door slammed closed, then voices. A jingle of keys and there was another figure moving through the house. He smiled, double the fun.

  She was older, but he didn’t have any preferences. Preferences got you profiled, and he wanted to keep them confused. He waited. He would bide his time and when all the lights went out, he would show them the true nature of a man.

  His eyes fell on the girl again as she turned her head to greet the woman.

  Wait for me. I’m coming. We’ll soon be together.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ben awoke to a knock at the window. It had become part of his dream. His eyelids fluttered and a warm band of light covered his body as he lay back in the chair. He’d fallen asleep in the sunroom. Scattered over his body were photos of the crime scenes. Each snapshot, a corpse in a different stage of decomposition.

  Beyond the window was Dakota. She was holding two cups of coffee, a smirk spread across her face as he registered where he was. He tilted his head from side to side and it let out a crack. His one arm felt weighted and dead as though all the blood had pooled in one area. He slipped out from under the blanket of photos, letting them slide to the floor, and shuffled over to the back door. Ben unlocked and pulled it open.

  “Morning. Brought you a coffee. Not sure how you take it.”

  She handed it to him and walked in without even asking.

  “Please. Come in,” he said.

  The sunroom had heated floors and drew in natural light that kept it warm even though the temperature outside had dropped. In the sky, dark clouds threatened rain.