Heron Park

by C. K. Raggio

  Flemings stood up from his chair. “Who the hell are you calling an idiot? Since you arrived here, three women and a detective have been killed, and now while you’re off on a road trip doing who knows what,” he stared accusingly from Rick to Cassie, “another girl goes missing.”

  Cassie kept her gaze locked on Flemings, praying their little trip to the motel hadn’t pinked her cheeks.

  Rick stepped forward. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m saying it looks like I’m staring at the only asshole in the room."

  Rick and Flemings squared off. Hank jumped in front of Rick while Hill grabbed Flemings’ elbow.

  “Enough you two,” Hank yelled. “We have a girl missing. Let’s concentrate on that and not whatever the hell has gone on in your past.”

  Rick straightened his tie and took a seat. Flemings winked at him.

  Cassie wanted to shove her foot up the guy’s ass. She struggled to keep her tone professional. She didn’t want to give the guy any reason to take her off the case. “Okay, then. What do you think our next move should be? We can’t exactly sit at every park on the Island and wait to catch this guy. We don’t even know what the hell he looks like. And, if our boy is a seventy-year-old man… which I think is ludicrous, shouldn’t we be in Bayhead right now, questioning him?”

  Hill nudged Flemings with his elbow.

  “What?” Flemings threw up his hands. “You’re not buying into this crap are you?”

  “Can I talk to you? Privately?”

  “Fine.” Flemings huffed and they left the room.

  Cassie gritted her teeth. “What the hell is the matter with that guy? He’s a complete and utter ass.”

  “Easy, Cass.” Hank’s warning gaze told her to keep her mouth in check.

  Rick picked up Lucy’s file and flipped through it, his hand trembled. “Honestly, we’re lucky they didn’t take us all off the case. At least we still have some say.” His phone rang and he stepped away to answer it.

  She glared at his back. If he was trying to reassure them he was doing a shitty job.

  Flemings and Hill returned a moment later. Flemings placed a hand on his holster and looked at Cassie. “I still think it’s a waste of time if there are already local officers looking into it. Agent Hill and Sanders will accompany you back to Bayhead. I’ll stay here and focus on the heart of the case.”

  Was this guy serious? Did he even listen to the tape or was he trying to think up new and special ways to piss them all off?

  Flemings continued. “We’ll be bringing in and interviewing everyone on your list of suspects. You guys missed something and I’m going to figure out what.”

  Holding his phone up, Rick scowled at him.

  “What’s going on?” Cassie asked.

  “That was Sheriff Ferraro. He went to the cabin.”

  “And?” Flemings shrugged.

  Rick ignored him and looked at Cassie. “Kurt Mason’s dead, and there was a female victim in the barn as well. It’s our guy.”

  “Let’s go.” Cassie grabbed her coat off the back of her chair. No more shooting the breeze with dimwitted Flemings. She strode down the stairs.

  If they hadn’t left and had gone to the cabin like they were supposed to, they would’ve had him. Kurt would be alive. Lucy would be alive. From now on she was following her gut, no matter what anybody else said. Screw Flemings. Screw everybody.

  ~~~

  The helicopter touched down in Bayhead. Cassie, Rick and Hill bowed their heads under the swirling rotor blades and hurried to the waiting patrol car with its high beams blaring. Cassie slid in the back and noticed the young officer looking green in the face.

  “I – I…” the officer stammered. “Would one of you mind driving? Just in case?”

  “No problem.” Rick switched spots with him.

  The officer opened his window and stuck his head out like a dog.

  “That bad?” Rick asked.

  “Sir, you have never seen nothing like this.”

  Cassie sank into her seat. The kid had no idea.

  Branches scraped the sides and undercarriage of the car as they drove down the road to the cabin. Potholes and sharp curves had Cassie holding on to the back of the passenger seat with two hands. Eventually the road opened up to a small clearing, and they parked outside the crime scene tape. The officer hurried from the car and vomited behind a bush.

  Cassie cringed. It was never a good sign if an officer puked pulling up to a crime scene.

  Floodlights lit the area up like a football arena. A blue van in front of the cabin caught her attention. She’d seen it somewhere before. She took a step toward it, but Sheriff Ferraro came over and introduced himself to Agent Hill. No more winks, no more flirtatious smiles. He was all business.

  “Found the girl and Kurt Mason in the barn.” He led them forward.

  A tarp covered a mound that looked to be a dead pony off to the side. “What’s that?”

  Ferraro stooped down and pulled up a corner. “We’re guessing Kurt took him out. The tarp was over the dog when we got here.”

  The dog’s head was the size of a farmer’s prized watermelon, it’s fur matted down with dried blood. She’d stared at the molds of the dog prints they’d taken from outside her window enough times to know the massive paws on this animal were a match.

  The most recent abduction had involved two dogs, from what the three female witnesses running with Lucy said. Even if their guy had more, at least this one was down. Good for you, Kurt. At least you did one thing right.

  When they got to the barn door, Ferraro moved to the side.

  “Holy shit,” Hill said, moving closer to Kurt Mason’s body. “Did he bite off his penis?”

  Ferraro rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Tech’s are looking into who did it. The girl has what looks like… um, skin stuck in her teeth and lots of blood on her face and in her mouth. We’ll have to wait for the DNA testing to be sure.”

  “Guessing he died of blood loss,” Hill said. “What about time of death.”

  “The ME is estimating they both died between the hours of 4:00 and 8:00 PM.”

  Exasperated, Cassie pounded her hands against her thighs. They would’ve been here. She forced herself to look away from the still form of Mason, hanging naked in chains. Cameras flashed from the other side of the barn. Two crime scene investigators took pictures of a freezer. Lucy Robert’s body lay on what looked to be a doctor’s exam table to their left.

  She was sliced open from her neck to her navel. Her intestines spread out on the table beside her. Her arms and legs twisted so her knees faced down and her elbows faced up.

  Just like Izzy, she still had her head.

  Ferraro pointed at the freezer. “It’s filled with different colored tufts of hairs and various other pieces of human tissue. Long hairs, looks to be from multiple different women.”

  “Any fingerprints from him?” Hill asked.

  The sheriff gave him a small grin. “A shit load. If he has a record, we’ll find him.”

  “Won’t do any good,” Rick murmured. “It wasn’t just that he didn’t think we’d find the cabin that he was careless here. We won’t find him in the system. He’s off the grid.”

  Hill ignored him. “We need to get them into the FBI’s database. It’ll take less time than putting them through yours. Did you guys set up roadblocks?”

  “Soon as I found the bodies, before I even called you.” Ferraro made his way back outside and headed for the porch. “You may want see inside the cabin too. There are some interesting remnants of the young lady.”

  Cassie paused in front of the van. A persistent inkling nagged at her brain. Why did it look familiar? She’d take a quick look inside the cabin, then come back out.

  The small cabin was bustling with activity. Flashing bulbs surrounded a breakfast table. The techs moved to the side. Two clear, liquid-filled bloody mounds, sat in the center.

  “Are those what I think they are?” Hill asked.
/>
  “Yes,” Cassie said. “Lucy worked at a local gentleman’s club at night. Those would be her moneymaking implants. Guess our guy wanted to see what they looked like outside her body.”

  An oil painting hung over the mantel. It was of Steven Bailey. He looked to be a few years older than the picture they’d found at the White’s house. He held a small terrier in his arms and was surrounded by at least twenty other dogs. They sat at his feet, staring at him as if he were God.

  Steven’s face was contorted in concentration. There was something Cassie couldn’t quite put her finger on. Did he look familiar? There was definitely something about him. She moved closer.

  The officer who picked them up stepped beside her. He no longer looked green, but the poor guy still looked like he had the stomach flu, pale and pasty. It seemed like with each dead body her reactions grew more nonexistent. After seeing her partner on the bench, she didn’t think anything would bother her anymore.

  “That’s Steven,” he said.

  “Did you know him?”

  “No, my dad was a few years ahead of him in high school. Talked about him now and again. The way he was with dogs, how amazing it was. People around here used to call him the dog whisperer. And that was way before the TV show.”

  Cassie gulped in a mouthful of air. Her stomach flipped like she was on a roller coaster. Something clicked, but she had to make sure. She ran from the cabin. Two agents were going through the van’s contents as she rushed over. “Did you find who this belongs to?”

  “Not yet,” the shorter one answered. “No plates, registration or insurance cards. Blood splattered throughout the back. Nothing in the glove box. Found some papers and receipts. We haven’t gotten to them or the front yet.”

  Cassie slipped on gloves. “May I see the papers, please?” She hoped there would be something.

  They both shrugged and went back to searching the back of the van.

  She grew more frantic as she shuffled through them. All the receipts were paid in cash, no credit card slips. And all were for fast food places, dating back five years.

  But really, what did she expect? Their guy wasn’t dumb enough to leave a paper trail. She slammed them down and leaned forward against the seat. Something white caught her eye between the console and the driver’s seat. It looked like the corner of a business card.

  She squeezed her hand into the crevice and stretched her fingers. Come on. She shoved her hand in deeper, ignoring the pinch shooting through her nerves. Got it. She pulled if free and stared at the name. Every hair on her body bristled.

  He had lied to Izzy. Talk about the perfect cover up.

  Her breath caught in her throat. The image of a sad, concerned face at the funeral froze in her mind. The way he held her as she’d cried on his shoulder.

  “Sanders,” she screamed. “Agent Hill!”

  CHAPTER 36

  Rick and Agent Hill charged from the cabin.

  Cassie took a deep breath. She’d found him, but she could hardly believe it. How could he be responsible for all this?

  “What’s the matter?” Rick asked in a rush. “What did you find?”

  She thrusted the small white card into his hands. “It’s him.”

  He read it over. His body tensed. “You have to be kidding me?”

  Hill looked over his shoulder. “Last Chance Rehabilitation and Training. Josh Meyer.”

  Rick’s gaze focused on Cassie. “Are you sure?”

  Without hesitation, Cassie nodded. “This van looked familiar, like I’d seen it before, but I couldn’t put my finger on it until the officer inside mentioned that everyone used to call Steven the dog whisperer. That’s exactly what my town calls Josh. Then I remembered the first time I met Josh years ago was when I was working for Gary at the center. He had a blue van. I’m sure it’s him.”

  Rick pulled out his phone. He paused before dialing and glanced at Hill. Probably remembering at the last minute he was no longer in charge.

  “Let’s move. I’ll call Flemings,” Hill said. “You guys were right about the cabin. I’m not about to doubt you now.”

  ~~~

  The same officer who drove them to the cabin took them back to the helicopter. Rick listened as Cassie spoke over her shoulder, filling Hill in on who Josh Meyer was. A blonde curl fell free from her ponytail and she brushed it behind her ear. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, tapping her knuckles against the center console.

  He knew how she felt. Adrenaline had Rick twitching in his seat. He couldn’t believe she had put it all together. Not only was she gorgeous, but she was smarter than most of the agents he knew. Damn he was proud of her.

  The chopper blades sprang to life as they jumped from the car. Rick ducked under them, helped Cassie in and sat next to her. They put their headsets on and the copter rose in a cloud of dirt and pebbles.

  Rick leaned his head back. He’d interviewed Josh Meyer at the beginning of the case, and again a month ago. Josh had been quiet, but not evasive to questions. He never acted in any way suspicious. He always asked if they wanted to come check out his center, meet his dogs. Which they’d done, twice.

  Even Cassie questioned him a few times. He gave them information on how their killer could’ve trained a dog like that. Josh had probably laughed after every interview.

  Josh… Steven just seemed like a guy who loved dogs, especially the misunderstood ones.

  Rick cursed under his breath. He should’ve known better, especially with a killer as smart and deceptive as their guy. It was always the same, the least likely suspect turned out to be the actual deviant. He’d really had them when Izzy said the guy had a phobia of blood.

  Why hadn’t he seen it? How had he missed it? Rick went over every comment, every discussion and interview he had with the man and still came up blank. Steven had been that good. Fuck!

  Did Kurt Mason tip Steven off that they were onto him? If he did, Steven could be long gone. And leaving a business card that screamed it was him seemed really out of character. Could he have been in that much of a rush? Or was this a trap?

  Two hours later, the helicopter dropped lower as the roadblocks came into view. They landed a block away from Last Chance Rehab center. The copter touched down and they all rushed out and ran toward the flashing police lights.

  “Any movement from inside?” Rick asked Phil as they met up two hundred yards from the main house.

  “No, nothing. No lights on. The center seems quiet too.”

  “Okay,” Hill called from behind them. “Everybody knows the plan. Let’s move in. I’ll take Cassie, Rick and you four up through the front.” He pointed to a few SWAT agents.

  Flemings strapped on his vest. “I’ll take Hank, Phil and you three and go around back. Everyone else, keep your eyes open and be ready for anything.”

  ~~~

  The SWAT teams led the way across the lawn. Cassie pulled her gun from its holster, fingers numb from the cold, sweat dripping down her neck. Flemings’ group moved around the side toward the back of the house. Cassie covered Hill’s right side, Rick his left.

  They crept up the porch steps. The front door stood slightly ajar. A SWAT member pushed it open.

  Cassie reminded herself to breathe. She looked down the barrel of her pistol.

  Hill stepped in behind the SWAT team. “FBI,” he yelled.

  Quiet and darkness greeted them.

  Cassie’s pulse ticked. She held her gun and flashlight in front of her, scanning the doors and furniture. At any moment a dog could rush out and rip somebody’s throat out.

  Hill made his way into the living room and then to the hallway. “Clear.”

  They split away from each other to check the house.

  “Clear,” an agent countered from another area of the house.

  Cassie pushed through French doors into a dining room, then the kitchen. Nothing seemed out of place. The house was decorated with bold reds and blues. It looked like something out of a magazine.

  The stainless s
teel appliances sparkled, and the marble countertops didn’t have a crumb or smudge on them. The food in the pantry was organized by size and in alphabetical order, all labels facing front.

  Rick came up behind her as the rest of the group headed to check upstairs.

  “I’m guessing there’s a basement in one of these buildings,” Cassie said. “Just like the one at Gary’s center.” She turned to Rick, then to Hill as he walked in. “Anything?”

  Hill holstered his gun. “There’s a door with a key code entry upstairs. They’re trying to get it open now. Don’t know if we’ll find anything important. There are no clothes in the closets or bedroom bureaus.”

  Rick shook his head. “I bet Kurt Mason warned him that we were on his tail. He probably hauled ass back and took off as quick as he could.”

  “Wait,” Cassie said, confused. “We were thinking he took Kurt Mason’s truck from the cabin, but if he has a few dogs and all his stuff, he can’t be driving around in a pickup.”

  “Crap, I don’t know,” Rick said. “Maybe he had another vehicle.”

  Cassie pursed her lips. “He took Kurt’s livestock trailer.”

  Hill’s brow furrowed. “Trailer?”

  “He had a big blue one in his driveway. Josh, I mean Steven, could’ve taken Kurt’s truck back to his house and hitched it up. Took off in that.”

  Rick grinned. “That would be much easier to find. I’ll call Ferraro and see if they’ve been to Kurt’s house yet.”

  Still speaking on his cell, Rick gave her the thumbs up that she was right.

  “Son of a bitch.” Hill scratched his temple. “This guy thinks a little too quick on his feet for my taste.”

  Flemings held up his phone. “I’ll add the trailer to the APB. Let the Canadian borders in on it. He could be headed anywhere.” He gestured behind him. “They got the office door open. Our techs are coming to take the computer. They also found an old hurricane cellar hidden under leaves out back. Phil is working on opening it.”

  Cassie clenched her jaw. Two more bodies and it was because Flemings wouldn’t let them stay. She wondered if the guy realized it was his fault, or if he’d find a way to blame it on them.