Emily decides that she must move the fence to try and squeeze the car through. The old posts are rotted. She grasps one of the posts and begins to jimmy it back and forth. It breaks free. She begins the same technique with the other post and it crumbles away.
The voices and dogs are gaining speed. The old rusted barbwire is on the ground. Emily quickly pulls the wire away from the posts and winds them out of the way. She can now hear the individual voices of the police search team. No doubt that they have found Timothy where she left him.
Emily gets back into the Jeep and carefully drives under the barbwire. At first, the Jeep won’t pass under and the front tires seem to be stuck in a hole. Emily closes her eyes and gives the Jeep a little bit of gas. The car jerks and groans, but finally passes over onto the other property.
There is no road, just an open pasture with tall weeds. She drives as fast as she dares through this vast field. She never looks back or to the left to see if the police are gaining on her. With a big bump, Emily manages to hang onto the steering wheel as she makes contact with the main road leading out of town. She looks in her rearview mirror. There are no law enforcement vehicles or sirens in sight.
She holds her breath for several minutes until she’s sure that no one is following her. She pulls the Jeep over to the side of the road and stops. She closes her eyes and takes ten deep slow breaths. Only when her pulse was back at an acceptable level did she continue to slowly drive away. She wanted to get back to the safety of her home as soon as possible. Now Emily can savor the wonderful image of Susie as she is being reunited with her parents.
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-One
Friday 2350 Hours
The evening has turned chilly with a heavy fog layer that has covered the sky and obscured the immediate treetops. It’s difficult to ascertain if the moon is full or barely a shiny sliver. In the darkness all native creatures are quiet and not even a leaf is moving in the subtle breeze. It seems to be the end of the universe at this very moment, but proves to be a festive evening for death and torture. Soft moans and frantic breathing is the only sound that fills the evening air.
The Accomplice has taken his sadistic turn in violating the fresh new victim. Just before the strike of midnight, the victim takes her last terrified breath. At least for her, the nightmare is now over. She lays motionless on the ground still restrained with heavy duct tape. Her green eyes are now glazed and motionless. Her petite body is contorted. Her soul has moved on and she no longer feels the pain and anguish of the brutal events. The Accomplice now has great power in his body, mind, and soul to last until the next sacrifice. He feels a tremendous relief and now is time for relaxation.
The Killer now takes his turn of a fierce attack. He must finalize his transition to the ultimate destiny of freedom. He must complete his attack as the bewitching hour proceeds. The violence consumes him. He becomes the peregrine falcon in every sense of the hunt and kill process. His teeth tear at the flesh of the neck and shoulders. The excitement of the fresh kill electrifies every cell in his body. The blood is still warm. It is inviting. The tingle throughout his hands and feet encapsulates the beautiful moment. His fantasy of this precise moment comes to life. He has waited so long. So long trolling for the right victim. Executing the right capture. And now the finalization of the kill is almost too much to endure. The Killer looks into the future and sees the freedom of the cosmic energy of mankind. Now it can be all his – the eventual immortality.
It is time now to share one body with another. The feeling of relief is now upon the Killer and Accomplice. The ritual of merging the last victim to this one begins. They amputate the young woman’s right arm and leave the previous victim’s arm in its place. The crime scene is almost set. A few more signature touches are applied to the victim’s last stand. The Killer and Accomplice are both connected with all of their victims now and forever.
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Two
Saturday 1000 Hours
After staying at a motel last night, Emily climbs her stairs to the living room area surrounded by glass and a view of the trees. She drops down on the couch and puts her feet up. She tries to relax after her trip back this morning. Her whole body still aches even after a long hot shower this morning. It feels like she has new bruises on top of old bruises. The doorbell interrupts her poor, pitiful me thoughts. She looks out the deck window and sees Theresa and Sergeant waiting intently.
“Coming”, Emily yells. She moves across the living room in moderate pain and descends the stairs, opening the front door with a smile, “Hello.”
Sergeant bounds inside and jumps up to greet Emily properly.
“We didn’t expect you back so soon.” Theresa states.
“It turned out that I didn’t need to take a trip; I found what I needed on the Internet.” Emily hated lying to her friend. “Come on up, I have some coffee made.”
Theresa walks inside and closes the front door. She hands Emily the local morning newspaper, “This was on your porch.”
“Thanks.” Emily takes the newspaper and leads Theresa upstairs.
Sergeant jumps up the stairs ahead of the women skipping every other step. Emily and Theresa head to the kitchen where there is a fresh pot of steaming coffee. The aroma hits the senses before it can be captured in a mug.
Theresa asks, “You okay dear?”
“Fine.” Emily gives Theresa a cup of coffee.
“It’s just that you look so tired.”
“I’ve been working on too many assignments at once, that’s all.”
Theresa points to the newspaper on the counter, “What do you think about the serial killer?”
“What?”
“The serial killer that’s on the loose in Santa Cruz. It’s right on the front page.” She takes a sip of coffee, “I think it’s two or three victims. That qualifies as a serial crime doesn’t it?”
“I think so.” Emily picks up the paper and briefly scans the story. She couldn’t believe that there’s a serial killer right in her hometown. It’s not like it can’t happen anywhere, but it unnerves Emily.
“I don’t worry about you here alone with Sergeant to protect you.” Theresa smiles. Sergeant perks up his ears when he hears his name.
Emily smiles, “That’s for sure. Everyone should have a trusty four-legged companion.”
Theresa continues, “Oh that nice detective came by to see us yesterday.”
“Detective?”
“You know the one that you reported Donald to?”
“Oh yes, of course.” Emily remembers how awkward he was trying to apologize to her for his rude behavior. It was cute.
“He’s trying very hard to get Donald evicted and out of our neighborhood.” Theresa watches Emily with interest. “You think he’s handsome don’t you?”
“What?”
Laughing, Theresa says, “C’mon Emily, he’s a hunk.”
“I can’t believe you just said hunk.”
“Well he is and he asked about you too.”
“About what?”
“He just wanted to know where you were. I guess he came over here first before he came over to talk to me.”
“Oh.”
Theresa is completely amused by Emily’s obvious reaction to the detective, but decides not to tease her anymore.
* * * * *
Emily sits down at her office workstation computer after Theresa leaves and scans local articles as well as national articles referencing the serial killer in her town. It really makes her angry that there is a serial killer in her town. Maybe it’s because it hits too close to home or maybe it’s because it changes her focus from the child predators.
She then realizes that the homicide photos that she saw on Detective Lopez’s desk were probably the serial homicide cases. Her mind wanders back to the detective. She wonders why he’s so interested in her wacko neighbor. After all he’s a homicide detective, not a community service officer.
The computer curs
or is blinking on a blank screen. Emily snaps back to her fact-finding task and begins gathering all of the information about the serial homicide victims. She begins slowly to use her expertise to track down the local serial killer. She does a basic victimology to finds the names, ages, and backgrounds of the two women. The news media didn’t give much detail about the description of the bodies and crime scene except that they were strangled and dumped.
Emily theorized that there was most likely a definite signature used by the killer and that the women were also sexually assaulted. There must be a fantasy that the killer acts out to feed his compulsive need. She feels extremely revitalized that she has another case to track; and, it’s a perk that it’s right here in her hometown. Emily feels the driving force inside her, but she must be careful not to make any mistakes and let her guard down; otherwise, her identity will be exposed right in her own backyard.
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Three
Saturday 1100 Hours
Pajaro is a small suburban town in the southern part of Santa Cruz County of barely five thousand, mostly Spanish-speaking residents, which is located in the middle of a huge agriculture region. Much of California’s vegetables are grown in the surrounding areas around Pajaro. The famous California artichokes are grown only a few miles away from the crime scene location.
Rick cruises north on Highway 1 exiting at Riverside Drive in Watsonville. He turns down his police radio to give himself some desired peace, even if it’s only for a few minutes as he cruises into Pajaro. His thoughts are frenzied and anxious. There have been too many murders in such a short period of time. The serial killer is like a killing machine set to warp drive. There seems to be evidence to support the acts of two serial killers. He contemplates two scenarios of a murder competition in action or just two individuals with the same thirst for blood.
Rick drives past a gas station and a small town market. Another quarter of a mile he spots the familiar emergency vehicles and police cars lined up at attention. The area of interest is large and flat with subtle surrounding hills. He pulls up next to one of crime scene detective’s vehicle and parks.
The detective is extremely tired and feels like his entire world is crumbling beneath his feet. Nothing seems to be working out the way it should. He sits in his car for a moment willing more strength and stamina to be able to run this investigation efficiently.
A small roadway just off the main thoroughfare runs right into an old train station. The old Union Pacific train with individual cars still runs through the state carrying lumber, hay, and miscellaneous building materials. It’s amazing how there is still a need for railroad engineers in an ever-changing high-tech world.
Rick treks down the short road and observes the taped off crime scene. It makes him uneasy. Compared to the previous crime scenes, this one is out in the open. It’s almost like a carefully orchestrated play with a dead body posed to throw the police off the killer’s trail. Something doesn’t seem right to the detective, but he can’t seem to pinpoint the reason. His main hope is that there will be more forensic evidence to connect to the suspects and to the murders.
Rick studies the entire area and locates two old building structures just east on the property that had been used as storage or housed chickens. It’s interesting that the body wasn’t dumped inside one of those structures, so it’s obvious that the killers put this particular victim on display for effect. “But why”, he ponders. He then sees Matt exiting one of the buildings complaining about the stench inside. Ken joins his crime scene partner carrying an evidence bag.
Matt still dramatically coughs and chokes, “That is just nasty. There are all kinds of decomposing smells in there from garbage to rodents.”
“Somebody probably had pit bulls housed in there at one time.” Ken supposed.
“I wouldn’t put my pit bulls in there. It’s disgusting.”
Ken agrees, “They wouldn’t be caught dead in there either.”
Matt explains, “You know a pit bull can take down a two hundred pound man in less than two seconds?”
Rick interrupts, “What have you got so far?”
Still grimacing, Ken answers, “We’ve got Deputy Monahan taking the crime scene photos.” He gestures at the body where the deputy seems to be a natural at capturing the different angles for investigative purposes. “We’ve also got a pretty good set of tire marks once we get a suspect’s vehicle to compare to.”
Rick asks, “What about the victim’s clothing?”
“Nothing so far.” Ken continues, “I’ve got some cigarette butts and a can of soda that don’t look very old.”
“You never know. Continue to fan out and take note and collect anything that doesn’t look like it should be there.”
Both Matt and Ken make an exaggerated salute at the detective and go back to their duties of searching the crime scene for potential evidence. Rick tries not to show how annoyed he is with the crime scene detectives.
From studying the crime scene, Rick regards that the body is going to be the most promising for holding any potential evidence. He makes some notes and sketches, and then moves toward the body. The posed body of the young woman is tremendously unsettling.
The victim has been stripped nude and still has the duct tape restraining her one hand and feet. There is additional duct tape that has been placed all the way around her head over her mouth. Her eyes are open and still seem to hold a trace of terror. Her neck has three deep bruise marks showing that she has been strangled more than once. You can’t help but be immediately shaken by her frozen pose. She is on her back with her one hand taped to another arm appendage in a strange praying position.
Rick reflects on how the body shows the work of two serial killer offenders from two different organizational techniques. “What is the religious significance and the tearing of flesh”, wonders the detective. The obvious macabre signature is the amputated arm from another victim; no doubt that it’s the previous victim from the ranch. He tries to piece together if the signature is shared or based on one of the individuals.
The detective knows that the serial killers won’t ever stop until he stops them. The burning question is when will he get a break. He considers which will break first, him or the case.
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sunday 1300 Hours
Emily drives up to the second serial crime scene location off Larkin Valley Road and parks just out of immediate view. She gets out of her Jeep with Sergeant tailing her. The murder scene still has some crime scene tape fluttering in the breeze. Sergeant sniffs at the broken barbwire fence and raises a big paw.
“What’s up Sarge?”
The dog pads easily through the fence to the location of where the body was found and sniffs around. Emily follows the dog and studies the location. Several crows fly overhead as the subtle breeze increases. Her immediate question was, “Why did the killer pick this particular location?” It unquestionably adds a dramatic element to the crime, but there must be something more driving him. She wishes that she paid more attention to the photographs she viewed on Detective Lopez’s desk.
Emily was able gather a significant amount of information about the women and their backgrounds. She also recruited her good friend Sergeant Sullivan to find out anything from police databases about the investigation. He was able to unofficially get some information about the suspected serial killer. Emily didn’t ask him how he got the information, but he said that there were too many elements of the murders to suggest that there was only one killer; most likely there are two killers. That was an intriguing thought to Emily and definitely going to be a considerable challenge for Detective Lopez. She thinks about him for a few minutes before leaving the crime scene.
Emily stops and closes her eyes. She wills the scene to come alive in her mind by imagining what the killers did and didn’t do to their victim. In her mind, the dark crime scene seems to give more excitement to the killers without the intrusion of headlig
hts. She sees them working slowly and taking turns, but she can’t quite figure out all of their motivations.
Emily opens her eyes again to the present. “C’mon Sergeant, let’s go.” Sergeant hesitates with all of the wonderful smells tempting him to stay and linger. Emily entices the dog, “Let’s go to the beach.”
Sergeant happily follows Emily to the car and jumps in riding shotgun. Of course, Emily had other incentives to go to the beach. She wants to see the crime scene area of the first victim at the beach location.
Before hitting the beach, Emily drives by local bars and restaurants trying to pinpoint the locations of where the murdered women were last seen. According to detectives, the women were not seen with anyone they didn’t know at these establishments. Emily feels that the women had been under surveillance and followed to somewhat remote locations where they could be abducted or lured into the killer’s car.
Emily pulls into the parking lot of Manresa Bar and Pool Hall. She sees Leo, her personal trainer, going into the bar. She’s not surprised; many locals frequent the bar for beer and pool. Without stopping, she decides to go down to the beach instead.
Sergeant whines in the passenger seat and presses his nose out of the cracked passenger window.
Emily explains, “We’re almost there.”
Emily decides to park the Jeep in the little neighborhood of Seascape and walk down the beach trail. She had discovered from reports that the end of the trail was where the body was found. Emily grabs a Frisbee from the back seat and heads down the path with Sergeant trotting obediently at her side. The dog seems to have a sixth sense that he needs to be close to Emily’s side. It was more likely that he sensed that something really bad happened on this trail.
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