by C. K. Raggio
He’d never be caught by being careless with incriminating evidence. The lobster cages in this nasty lake were the perfect place to stash his clothes as well as the victims’, along with another treasure or two. Even if they did find his stash, there wouldn’t be any DNA left on them.
He scrubbed his entire body with a brush, using a mixture of peroxide, water, and soap, a concoction he found to work the best in removing every trace of evidence. When his skin burned raw he headed back into the murky lake to wash off.
It would be impossible, but he’d give anything to see the look on the agent’s face when they found his latest victim. But he couldn’t ever be seen at Heron Park. He’d just have to be satisfied with the memories of the woman when he had tortured her.
The fear and desperation in her eyes when she’d realized what he had in store was priceless. She was like an animal caught in a snare. Her whole body shook so hard she looked as if she were having convulsive seizures.
His original plan was to only use the ax handle on her. But she had amazing breasts. They were small, perky, and her nipples had been so hard. He couldn’t help but pinch them. He’d pinched harder and harder, watching sweat pool in every crevice of her naked body. Thor’s massive jaws constricting her neck silenced her screams. Timmy wanted to touch her more. Probe her. Enjoy the feel of her, but couldn’t. He hadn’t scheduled for that.
He had gazed at her, pondering if she’d initially love the feeling of the thick handle going in. He could tease her by inserting six inches, moving it back and forth. Maybe get her turned on, before he showed her the nipple pinching was a tickle compared to what he had in store for her.
The handle had the opposite effect. She fought like a feral cat and threatened to pull out one of the four stakes pinning her to the ground. He didn’t want to have to stop to re-stake her.
“Thor, hold her,” he’d said to the dog.
Thor bit down into the woman’s leg.
Timmy moved the handle further into her until it came up against resistance. Black mascara smeared around her dilated eyes. He shoved it deeper than any man had ever been before, or ever would.
She let out a silent scream. Her mouth so wide he could count her fillings. She arched back, her chest rising. Excrement spread out between her legs. The stench made him grimace. “You bitch. You fucking weak cunt! Now you’ve done it. Thor, get her.”
The dog tore a chunk from her leg and chewed while Timmy held her eyelids open and made her watch.
He tipped his head back. The rain pelted him as he savored the memory. An electric pulse rushed within his loins at the thought of her crazed face while his dog ate her flesh.
He sat down in the shallow water of the lake and wrapped a hand around his erection. His body jerked in response. He grasped it harder, groaning aloud. Sliding his hand up and down, faster and faster.
With his newfound discoveries, the next one would be even more fun. He had his eye on her for a long time. He needed to leave Long Island soon, his training was almost over. She’d be his last.
Her face flashed through his mind. Oh, yeah. He had things planned for her, and it would take a little time to get everything set up. But this one he would touch, and take his sweet ass time doing it.
He sank lower into the water, his legs quivered as he worked himself closer. Gutting her like the pig she was. He hunched forward, water splashing around his groin from his efforts. With one final jerk and groan his body exploded into the lake. He shivered and smiled, satisfied, but only for now.
CHAPTER 9
Cassie squinted, searching for any sign of sunlight breaking through the clouds and rain. She sighed. It was morning, the sun should’ve been on the rise, but only a dim light shone though. A steady thrumming against the gutters echoed in her ears.
She sat alone at her desk, another all-nighter for the record books. Phil and Hank had left for Tina Conner’s condo. Tina’s brother was set to meet them at 8:30 and give a DNA sample. Hopefully, Jane Doe would soon have a definite name.
Izzy had run home hours ago to shower and grab a quick bite to eat. Which meant, she was at the twenty-four hour deli flirting with off duty officers. Cassie didn’t mind. She needed a break from her.
She loved her partner to pieces, but the girl enjoyed listening to the sound of her own voice a little too much. She lacked both a filter for her blunt honesty and an off button for her constant jabbering.
Alone in the office, Cassie took advantage of the stillness and studied the suspect list. Since they started crosschecking, the list had shrunk, but not nearly enough.
Only five members of the hospital staff had hunting licenses. She’d already called to see when they’d be in. Two of them, doctors, had been on vacation since last Saturday. She crossed them off her list since their alibis checked out. The other three would be at work in an hour. She figured, instead of wasting time driving to their houses, she’d speak with them at the hospital.
The list was long. Her father and Sam were on there, along with a lot of Cassie’s neighbors. Frank Gere, who owned the twenty-four hour deli, his five sons and two daughters. Even his wife was on the list. Gary White, who owned the guide dog center. Josh Meyers, Suffolk County’s own dog whisperer. Matt Zellinger, who she went to high school with, and his slew of brothers and sisters. Not to mention half the police force and the whole of her fishing club.
She ran a hand over her face. Dammit, this list may as well be the phonebook. She rested her elbows on the desk and stared at the floor. It blurred and shook. Her pulse beat away at her frontal lobes. A sharp pain shot through her head. Migraine.
Closing her eyes, she tried to eliminate the pains that the office overheads seemed to be making so much worse. Sleep always seemed to help her. She put her head down. The reality of the office faded, the headache along with it. Everything went soft around the edges, then Rick’s voice cut through the room, pulling her back.
She bolted up.
He spoke into his cell, “Shit, same park?” Rick paused as he listened, eyeing her.
She ran a hand down her cheek, feeling the uneven indents from the spiral notebook she’d fallen asleep on. Great.
“We’re on our way,” he said. His frown said it all.
She grabbed her jacket. They were side by side at the door in seconds. No need to talk as they rushed down the hall. They'd found another one – body number two.
CHAPTER 10
The pouring rain finally let up as Cassie and Rick pulled into the park. Cops crowded the lawns in rain jackets and knee-high boots. Cassie’s migraine had eased to a soft pulsing pain. Usually it took hours for her to get past them. Thank God for adrenaline.
She glanced around at all the faces, finding Izzy speaking to Officer Ryles. She hoped there weren’t this many officers walking around the actual crime scene. It was the only bad thing about involving other departments and precincts. All the helping hands could contaminate evidence. At least the media was being kept at bay.
The gates of the park were closed, but cops were yelling at news crews as they shoved microphones and cameras between the steel bars. She wished she had a cattle prod to give to the poor guys.
She stepped out of the car and headed toward Izzy. Rick came up beside her, his face holding no glint of emotion as they stomped through the muddy field. She wondered what he was thinking about.
Ryles extended his hand to Rick as they approached, then looked at her. “Logan. Where’s Hernandez? He should be here by now. I spoke with him and he said he was going to call you.”
“They were going to speak with Jane Doe’s possible brother,” Cassie said. “I guess they’re still there.”
“Wow,” Izzy smirked. “Hank called me and the agent before you, Cass? That’s a new one.”
Cassie frowned. Of all the times for her to take a nap. She didn’t want to admit she’d dozed, but what if Rick ratted her out? A glance at him told her nothing. She’d go with a fib and hope he kept his mouth shut. “Must’ve been in the bathroo
m.”
Izzy nodded. “Hank said they’re on their way now and to start without them.”
“Okay, this way,” Ryles said.
They followed him as he led them toward the trail. The rain had stopped, but water continued to stream down from the sodden trees. Cassie flipped up her hood with a curse after a water-balloon sized drop splattered her head.
The storm had kept the normal hikers away from the park. Unfortunately, it didn’t keep everyone from venturing out. They came upon the dog first. It was some sort of spaniel, bigger than Rooter had been. It looked like a synthetic black rug on the ground. No intestines spilled out this time. The bite marks looked to be the same size. It lay on its stomach, the head twisted around so the eyes stared up into the treetops.
Their guy had trained his dog to do what? Cassie tried to imagine walking through the woods with her dog. It gets attacked. What would she do? The weight of her gun on her hip told her the answer, but if she didn’t have one. Panic? Try to fight it off, and then what? He comes up behind her while she’s completely focused on saving her friend. Talk about a well thought out distraction.
“I’ll let you make your own assumptions about the vic’s body.” Ryles ambled passed an officer standing beside a small trail. “We may have some evidence on this one. Her vaginal area is well… he may have raped her.”
Rick stooped under a low branch and held it up for Izzy and Cassie to walk under. “Don’t get your hopes up. I don’t think this suspect is stupid enough to leave any evidence behind.”
The group headed further east then south, closer to the bay than where they’d found the first victim. Deep mud slid into Cassie’s boots, making her wish she’d worn two pairs of socks. After what seemed like five miles rather than two, they reached the crime scene.
Large tarps were tied from the tree branches, spanning across the area to protect the body and scene from rainwater. They ducked under them and stopped several feet away as the body came into view.
She was gutted and missing her head. Large flaps of skin had been removed from her elbows to her wrists. Her hands were intact, but her fingertips had been sliced off. Deep gashes covered her chest. Cassie glanced away for a moment, mentally adjusting to the findings. The nipple from the victim’s left breast sat in the palm of her right hand. She was staked out, spread eagle. Metal tent posts and thick wiring held her arms and legs in place.
Cassie stepped closer, gasping when she spied the body’s genital area. It looked like it had been fed into a meat grinder. Mangled raw skin, fleshy and pink, turned inside out. The gutting had left the woman split open from sternum to the top of her pubic bone. It left a jagged opening for them to peek inside.
“Well, Doc will be psyched,” Izzy said, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’ll have something to look at other than just bone and muscle. What is that?” She pointed at a few bloody masses inside the abdomen. “Intestine?”
Ryles cleared his throat. “Doc’s assistant was already here, said it was the victim’s reproductive organs.”
Cassie stared at the mass of congealed blood and rubbery looking tissue. Small pieces of what looked to be the vic’s outer genital area littered the ground around the body like some sick art display. This guy was beyond disturbed. Or he wanted to make them think he was.
There were narrow ruts in the dirt around the woman’s feet and hands. She’d fought hard to get away. Her fingernails left impressions in her palms that looked deep and crusted with dried blood. The gaping hole between her legs made it look like she’d given birth to a thirty-pound baby.
“I’m guessing this guy doesn’t have a walrus sized penis, so what the hell did he use?” Izzy asked.
An evidence flag a foot away from the body caught Cassie’s eye. Wet leaves stuck to the blade of an ax. The handle was covered in chunky red blood and flesh. “Probably that.”
“That’s what Doc’s assistant thinks,” Ryles said. “Forensics is going to get the dog squared away and then bring the rest of this mess in for testing. They did a rape kit on her, or attempted to anyway.”
“Fuck,” Rick said.
Ryles looked at him. “Agent Sanders?”
Rick stared at the water, his body rigid. Cassie followed his gaze. A guy in a rowboat paddled by, he held a camera and snapped away.
“Someone get a boat out there and grab that guy,” Cassie said.
An officer snatched his radio from his belt and made the call.
It couldn’t just be some idiot with a sick picture obsession who had Rick all pissed. And he seemed upset about more than the horrific sight of the corpse. His eyes slanted in concentration and everyone went quiet.
“Mother fucker,” Rick muttered. “Let’s get maps of all the creeks, marinas, boat yards, and deeded docks at private homes. Everything. This guy has to be using a boat to escape the scene. Pay special attention to anyone who owns a small motorboat. Especially the ones that are camouflaged and used for duck hunting. Most of those are registered, right?” he asked Cassie.
“Anything with a motor is supposed to be,” she said, scribbling on her notepad, “but there are plenty of people who don’t bother. I’ll let the Coast Guard know to keep an eye out, have them pull ‘em all over.”
“Okay, good,” Rick said. “Listen up everyone. We’re looking for a thirty to forty-year-old white male. He’d be extremely organized and love the outdoors: fishing, boating, hunting. He would of course have a very large dog, but not the kind you would see him taking out for daily drives in his convertible. Since he’s somehow keeping this animal hidden, he would drive a van or a box truck.”
Rick paused, looked at Cassie’s raised brows, then Izzy and Ryles’. “Yeah, I didn’t have a chance to get into my background. I was going to do profiling, but switched it up when I realized the agents in the BAU never left the office.”
“Imagine that.” Ryles stared at Rick. “You really think that profiling junk works? I mean, not to be rude or anything, but where the hell did you pull that out of?”
“Believe me, I didn’t pull this out of my ass. I learned from the best and studied some of the sickest human minds in this world. I know what I’m doing.” He eyed each of them in turn. “I’m not here to be a hero. I need for us all to work together on this.”
Ryles grinned. “Well, Agent Sanders, glad to know you’re not gonna try to be a cowboy. If you’re as good as you just sounded, we’re definitely going to need you.”
Rick clasped his hands behind his back and continued. “A couple more things. I would say the suspect probably doesn’t do well with the ladies. He’s most likely average looking and charming, but he doesn’t date anyone seriously. And a woman close to him has definitely molested him. His mother, or an older sister.”
“What makes you say that?” Izzy asked.
“What he’s done to these two women takes hate,” Rick replied. “The kind of hate that’s been brewed over time. He changed his MO, but I’m not buying the horror movie rape setup. He’s watching us and the props were more to fuck with us. Now that he’s gotten a taste for it though, I’m sure we’ll be seeing it again.”
Cassie chewed on her lip. Everything he said made sense. She wondered if he’d come to the same conclusion as she had about the dog. “What about the dog? Why does he use that?”
Rick ran a hand through his sopping hair. “I’m thinking the dog is more a tool for him, like a knife or a gun. He uses it because that’s what he feels comfortable doing. The dog is a distraction, like a hunter using food or floodlights to shoot a deer; our guy doesn’t play fair.”
She nodded in agreement.
Rick paced around the body. “He most likely lives alone and owns his own business. These women aren’t picked at random, he takes his time planning and choosing them. Study’s their schedules. If he had a job or a boss he needed to check in with, he’d never have the time to do this. Our guy also has a vacation house somewhere. He had to be taking the women we didn’t find someplace where he could be alone w
ith them. Someplace their bodies wouldn’t be found.”
Cassie pocketed her pen and pad in her jacket, caught Sanders watching her. He’d stopped circling Jane Doe number two and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “Any questions?”
“Not on the profile,” she said. “But what’s our next move going to be?” Hank hadn't arrived on the scene yet and she wasn’t about to sit around.
“I’ll hang back here, talk to Hank, then go with Officer Ryles to relay the profile to the rest of the troops. Maybe you guys could go over the lists and see if anyone pops out at you. Also check out anyone who owns or trains dogs of any kind.”
“You got it,” Cassie said.
Cassie and Izzy made their way out from under the tarp. Cassie glanced over her shoulder at Rick. Hot, smart, but still an ass.
“What are you grinning about?” Phil asked as he and Hank walked over.
She willed the pink heat from her cheeks. “Nothing.”
“Oh, great,” Phil muttered. “Don’t tell me you both have the hots for this guy?”
Izzy latched onto her arm. A smile plastered across her face. If they weren’t at a crime scene she probably would be jumping up and down. God forbid Cassie thought a man was cute. It’s not like she wanted to marry him.
“I do have to say, the way that man came up with a description of our guy after staring at the water for a few seconds,” Izzy paused. “Was… well, actually really sexy. I wouldn’t mind getting in his expensive FBI suit pants. What do you think, Cass?”
Oh, God! Do I have ‘I think a man’s sexy’ in neon on my back or something? “I think he knows what he’s talking about. Seems intelligent enough.”
Izzy gave her an obnoxious wink. “Makes you wonder what else he knows all about.”
Phil groaned.
“All right, all right, enough with the matchmaking,” Hank ordered. “Mark Conner was pretty sure the pictures we showed him of the dead yorkie belonged to Tina. When he saw the red leash and collar we found, he broke down.”