by B. T. Lord
The body had been eviscerated; the snow obscenely saturated with dark crimson pools and streaks. The face had been chewed off, making identification impossible. The other arm was intact, though the hand was missing. The limbs that were left were wearing the same pajamas as that on the arm they’d found the night before. The hair had been torn off in places, though, through the blood and gore, they were still able to see that the victim had been blonde. Within the strands of hair were white globules. Cammie forced herself to approach, taking one of the globules between her gloved fingers. Crushing it, she brought it up to her nose.
“What’s that?” Rick asked as he and Jace approached.
“Bacon grease,” she replied as she slowly stood up. The two men took a step back in revulsion.
“Jesus!” Rick exclaimed. “That’s – that’s sick!”
“Although we don’t know who this is yet, I’ve begun to think of her as Beth Davis. I only hope to God she was already dead when she was dumped in the forest.”
Rick visibly shuddered. “I hope so too. She never would have stood a chance with a pack of ravenous coyotes attracted by the scent of bacon lathered all over her.” He shook his head to himself. “Who the hell does something like this?”
“What better way to dispose of evidence than to have nature dispose of it for you? The bacon grease was an added incentive to make sure nature did the killer’s work for them. If Jace and I hadn’t been driving down Notch Road when we were, it’s probable Beth would never have been found.”
Taking out her radio, Cammie called one of the deputies still out on the main road and asked him to arrange to have Doc brought out to the scene. She also requested Forensics be informed.
“Rick, I’m going to need you and some of your men to remain here and make sure the coyotes stay away.” She next turned to two men standing near Rick. Mosley Cavanaugh and Peter Bingham were two of Twin Ponds’ best trackers. They were both in their 50’s and had assisted Cammie’s department in the past when searching for lost hikers in Clarke County’s thick forests. “I need you to help me find out where the body was initially dumped. There’s no way the killer would have carried her body this far into the forest.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll come with you as well,” Jace spoke up.
Reeling from the callousness of what had been done to Beth, Cammie was glad of his company. She nodded and the group immediately set out.
As the miles stretched out in a sea of deep white snow, she grew cold and tired as she followed the three men through the forest, but she pushed through her discomfort. What kept her going was the memory of the scene she’d just left. No one deserved that kind of fate; just the thought of it made her stomach churn in anger.
Was Clarisse capable of something like this? She had a temper, something even her sister admitted to. And she was certainly capable of violence – the charge of assault was ample proof of that. The timing of her leaving for Bangor also added up to making her more suspect. But what was the trigger? Was Clarisse afraid Lydia was going to rat her out? And because Beth and Lydia were so close, had Lydia told Beth what she was about to do, inadvertently condemning Beth to such a horrific death? Whatever happened between the three women had resulted in an act so sickening, she knew she would never forget it for as long as she lived.
The questions continued rolling around in her head as she tried her best to keep up with the men.
After hiking a few more miles, they found where the tracks of the coyotes and the unmistakable trail of something being dragged along the snow intersected. Cammie bent down to examine the boot prints visible in the snow.
“About a size 9, don’t you think?” she asked her companions.
“Yeah, I’d say so,” both trackers agreed.
She remained silently studying the print for several minutes. Mosley and Peter looked at each other, not sure what to make of her silence. Jace, knowing her as well as he did, knew she was mentally processing the entire scene – not just the boot print, but everything. He saw the exhaustion around her eyes, but she wasn’t about to quit. Not until this was solved.
Just as Peter was about to say something, Cammie abruptly stood up. “Keep to the periphery of the prints. I’m going to place a marker for Forensics to make a cast of it.”
Squatting down, she placed the marker, then looked around her.
“You know where we are, don’t you sheriff?” Mosley asked.
“I do. If we keep following the boot prints, we’ll come out onto the public beach and picnic area on the other side of Waban Pond.” She stood up. “Let’s keep going. There should be tire marks that I can mark for a cast to be made as well.”
Sure enough, there was a set of tire prints in the snow from where the boots and the dragging patterns led from.
Cammie placed a marker and called it in. She then radioed Rick to come pick them up. The games of hockey she’d been playing with Jace had gone a long way to helping her regain her strength. Yet, it was the gruesomeness of what had happened to Beth, coupled with the mystery of what had happened to Lydia, that caused a pall of fatigue to wash through her. She shook it off and turned her attention to securing the parking lot against contamination of any potential evidence.
Just as she finished up putting up the police tape, Rick arrived. She led him to where she’d marked the boot print.
“Did you happen to notice what size shoe Clarisse was wearing when you interviewed her?”
Rick cast his mind back, going over that day carefully before he turned back to Cammie.
“I think it was a nine.”
“If I remember correctly, I think Lydia was also wearing a size 9 shoe.”
Both Rick and Jace stared at her in surprise. “Whoa. Wait a minute! You thinking maybe Lydia is responsible for what happened to Beth?” Rick asked.
“Hmmm,” she grunted before falling silent again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
With the discovery of Torri’s book in Lydia’s apartment, Cammie was finally able to get Judge Drury to issue a search warrant. However, just as she’d suspected, the search turned up nothing. If the salvia had been in Torri’s trailer, it was long gone and she’d cleaned everything to make sure no trace of it remained.
Cammie tacked up a picture of Lydia and Beth in her office, the same picture that appeared in the local newspaper asking for help in finding them. As each day passed, she and Rick exhausted themselves trying their best to discover what had happened. They interviewed Beth and Lydia’s associates and workmates in an effort to discover if they’d exhibited any strange behavior before their disappearance. But, just as she had discovered when interviewing the inhabitants of Danvers about Torri, they had nothing but praise for the two women.
“This is ridiculous,” Cammie groused to Rick after another fruitless round of interviews. “To hear these people talk, Beth and Lydia were perfect in every way.”
“Nobody likes to speak ill of the dead,” Rick replied.
“I understand that, but the women they describe are like larger than life porcelain dolls with no imperfections whatsoever. Jeez, I can only imagine what people would say if I was the one who disappeared.”
When Rick offered no response, she glared at him.
“We have one more person to interview,” he quickly said. “She worked in the same office with Beth.”
Cheryle Mahoney was a young, mousy looking woman in her late twenties. She shared the same small office as Beth, her desk directly opposite the missing woman’s. Cammie immediately noticed how nervous she appeared when she sat down in the School Superintendent’s conference room the two officers were using for the interviews. She unconsciously picked at her nails and seemed unable to meet either Cammie or Rick’s eye.
“How well did you know Beth?” Cammie began.
Cheryle pushed her dark hair out of her eyes. “About as well as anybody could, I guess. She was pretty shy. Everybody knew her only real close friend was Lydia.”
“What is your job?” Cammie
asked.
“I’m basically her assistant. There’s so much work involved in school administration that I was hired to pick up what Beth didn’t have time to do.”
“How long did you work together?”
“It will be two years next month.”
“How was she to work with?”
“She was fine. Never said much, but pretty easy to get along with.”
“Did you notice any change in her behavior for, say, the last few weeks?” Rick asked.
Cammie noticed Cheryle’s increased fidgeting. She leaned over and caught the young woman’s eye.
“You won’t be betraying any confidences. On the contrary. Whatever you tell us may help us find Beth and Lydia.”
Cammie’s words seemed to calm her. She glanced at the sheriff and said, “The truth is, she wasn’t as even keeled as she usually was. I mean, in all the time we worked together, I never saw her get upset. She could put up with our boss’s worse tantrums and not let it get to her. But I noticed she seemed out of sorts, like something was really bothering her.”
“When did you notice this change in behavior?”
“It was last week.”
“Did she confide in you what the problem was?”
“I asked, but she kept telling me she was fine. Then last Thursday, the day before she disappeared, I found her crying in the supply closet. Actually, she seemed pretty hysterical. I was so shocked, I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was pat her on the shoulder. You have to understand, Beth was always so private. To see her like that was – well – it was like I’d walked in on something I wasn’t supposed to see.”
“Did she tell you what had made her cry?” Cammie asked.
“No. As soon as she saw me, she tried to act as though everything was okay. But it wasn’t. She couldn’t seem to stop crying. It got so bad that she just got up and left without saying a word to anyone. I was terrified our boss was going to flip out that Beth left two hours early, but thankfully, her meeting ran late and she never found out. When I saw Beth the next morning, it was as if nothing had happened.”
“Did you ever see her with anyone other than Lydia?”
Cheryle considered the question. “I’d have to say no. I mean, whenever she took lunch, it was always with Lydia. And when she left at the end of the day, Lydia was usually there waiting for her.”
“I’m going to need you to come down to HQ and make a statement.”
“Okay, if you really need me to.” Cheryle looked at her watch. “Oh dear, I’ve got to go. The board is having a lunch meeting and I need to make sure everything is set up.”
After she left, the two law enforcement officers exchanged glances. “Well,” Rick replied. “That’s got to make you feel better. Finally, a confirmation that Beth at least wasn’t perfect.” He looked at her face. “Oh-oh. There’s that look again. The one that would scare little kids if you had any.”
“Beth is found hysterically crying the day before she disappears. The next day, Lydia tells her Dad she’s about to wrong a right, then she too disappears. Did one thing lead to the other or vice versa?”
Over the next several days, Cammie had Emmy monitor social media to see if any postings appeared from either of the missing women. No cell phones were found in either Beth or Lydia’s apartment. Had Lydia taken them to communicate with someone who might help her? Had Clarisse taken them to throw the investigation off?
The phone records for both cell phones would be arriving in two days which might give Cammie a clue as to what had happened. The DNA results wouldn’t be in for at least another week, but the sheriff knew in her heart that the remains were most likely those of Beth.
Lydia’s parents called every afternoon, but the news she shared was always the same. No trace of Lydia had been found yet.
At night, she mulled over the same set of facts. What was this wrong Lydia was determined to right? Did it have something to do with the deaths of Todd and Marcy? Did it have something to do with the Book of Shadows she’d taken from Torri? How did the salvia timor tea end up in Beth’s apartment? Did either she or Lydia know it had been Clarisse all along and was going to turn her in? Is that why Clarisse disposed of them, then left Twin Ponds? Torri had lied to her so many times, how could she trust her assertion that Clarisse was gone before the women disappeared?
And the most chilling question of all.
Was Lydia’s body out in the forest as well?
She and Rick went out and re-interviewed people, hoping something would turn up – some magic words that would point the finger to what happened to Lydia and Beth. But they came up empty. At the same time, Cammie racked her brains trying to find something she could use to arrest Torri and/or Clarisse when she was found. But as frustrating as it was, there was nothing to trace back the tea that contained the salvia timor to the two sisters. She could arrest Torri on suspicion, but without hard evidence, it would never stick. She still couldn’t prove that Todd and Marcy had drunk the tea without knowing what was in it. Nor was there even a shred of evidence linking the Jacksons to Beth and Lydia’s disappearance.
She spent her evenings unable to sleep, driving up and down the roads in Clarke County, hoping to spot Lydia’s car or Lydia herself. Jace saw the toll the case was taking on her, but he could offer nothing except the occasional company when he sat with her in her Explorer. When the fingerprint analysis came in, she was deeply disappointed to find the Book of Shadows yielded no fingerprints except those of Torri and Lydia, the owner of the book and the possible thief of the book. Nor were any suspicious prints found in either Lydia or Beth’s homes.
Everything led to a dead end. And Cammie hated dead ends.
The strain took its toll on everyone at HQ. But it fell heaviest on Emmy. The two missing women were her friends. Could she really have been so blind not to notice if they’d known something about the salvia? Except for her last conversation with Beth, they’d acted as they always had. Could someone act that normal if they somehow had knowledge of what had befallen Todd and Marcy? She never could have done it. Her entire emotional make up always showed on her face.
In the past, she’d quietly refused to believe Cammie’s assertion that you truly never know someone. Traumatic events have a way of making people show their true colors. The recent incidents showed her how naïve she’d been.
Especially when it came to Torri.
Was it possible that the woman she’d admired and looked up to was actually a cold blooded killer? She’d never warmed up to Clarisse. Too self-centered and selfish. But was she capable of deliberately killing four people? For what reason?
It always came down to that.
Why would anyone want to kill Marcy and Todd?
Why would anyone want to kill Lydia and Beth?
It was a week after the disappearances of Beth and Lydia. Nothing had come to light. The forest had been scoured for any sign of either Lydia or her car, but it was as though the young woman had walked off the face of the earth, taking her vehicle with her. Cammie had long ago begun to fear that the young woman had ended up like Beth. The difference was that the coyotes had taken her remains deeper into the woods where they’d never be found.
It was close to five o’clock and Emmy was packing up to go home. She’d spent another listless day watching Rick and Cammie grow more frustrated. She was frustrated too and had no words to offer, nothing that could help them, though she tried every day to try and remember something – anything – that could help with this case.
She was just putting on her coat when her phone rang.
“Sheriff’s Department, Emmy speaking,” she answered.
“Hon, it’s Mom. I’ve been looking all over for our crock pot, but I can’t find it. I wanted to make Swedish meatballs for the church meeting this Sunday. Do you know where it is?”
Emmy thought for a moment, then inwardly groaned. “Sorry, Mom. I lent it out to a friend. I’ll swing by and grab it on the way home.”
She hung up, then
called Cammie’s cell.
“Hey Em, what’s up?” Cammie answered.
“Is it possible for me to pick up something I left at Lydia’s house? I lent her my Mom’s crockpot. She was going to make some beef stew--” Emmy’s voice caught as she realized poor Lydia was never going to be making that beef stew. Or anything else ever again. She quickly cleared her throat. “Mom wants it back.”
“Everything has been fingerprinted and photographed, so I don’t see why not. The key to her house is in the evidence locker.”
“I’ll make sure not to disturb anything. I’ll just get the crockpot from the kitchen counter and lock up again.”
Emmy sat in her Jeep, looking at the police tape still in place in front of Lydia’s apartment. Tears welled up as she thought about her quirky friend. Memories of her wacky knitted hats drifted through her mind, and she hiccupped as the tears threatened to overwhelm her. She was going to miss their Friday girls night out. She was going to miss their shared love of horror movies and witchcraft and talks about the opposite sex. She was going to miss everything about them. It was still hard to believe that Lydia and Beth were gone. Just like that. In the blink of an eye.
She couldn’t even think of Beth without bawling her eyes out. No one deserved to have their body eaten like that by wild animals. There was something so obscene about the whole thing.
Still, she had to find the courage to go inside, get the crock pot and leave. She should have just told her mother she’d buy her a new one, but she didn’t want to get into it with her. Church meant everything to Mrs. Madachuck and when she wanted to make her Swedish meatballs, she wanted to make them now.
Emmy pulled herself together and got out of the vehicle. She’d brought police tape with her, knowing she’d have to break the original to get inside the house. She planned on putting more up once she retrieved the crock pot.