by Becky Durfee
“Do they know how long she’d been missing?”
“Almost two years, but her body was pretty badly decomposed. She may not have lived very long after running away.” Jessica looked sincerely troubled. “It looks like she hitched a ride with the wrong person.”
“What about the other victims?” Zack asked.
“One woman was from South Carolina. She apparently battled demons for a while before going missing, and the other was a known prostitute from New Jersey.”
“So it looks like our killer travels up and down I95,” Jenny concluded.
“Not necessarily,” Zack replied. “Remember what Officer Howell said—these women could have easily caught a ride with a trucker to Dale’s. Maybe those girls traveled north and south, but the killer is an east-west traveler...or even a local.”
“Then there’s the matter of that other victim Amma brought up.” Jenny turned to Jessica. “Did they mention finding any other bodies?”
Jessica shook her head. “The article didn’t say anything about any other victims, but that may have changed.” She flashed a worried look at Jenny. “You really think there’s another victim?”
“My grandmother seems to think so,” Jenny replied.
“Let me check my computer,” Jessica said as she stood up from the table. “I’ll see what the latest is.”
Zack looked sincerely at Jenny. “Are you feeling better?”
Jenny nodded with a smile. “Not one-hundred percent, but a lot better than this morning.”
“That’s good,” Zack remarked. “Just think…only eight more months to go.”
“Great. You know, I could have done without that reminder.”
Jessica returned to the table with a laptop. She sat down with the computer facing outward so Zack and Jenny could look at it. “This is the article I read this morning,” she said, referencing the screen. “These are the pictures of the girls they found. Somehow it’s so much sadder when you can associate faces to the victims.”
Jenny looked at the pictures of the girls, and while it broke her heart to see their promising faces, a surge of excitement generated within her. “Bingo,” she said as she looked at Zack. Pointing at the laptop she added, “Maybe we can get Rod—I mean, my Pop—to look at these.” Jenny had temporarily forgotten she’d agreed to a more affectionate term for her biological father. “He might be able to get a reading from these photos.”
“Certainly can’t hurt,” Zack noted.
Jessica spun the computer back around. “Let me see if there are any more recent articles.” After some typing she lowered her brow. “I’m not seeing anything new. These are the same stories I saw last time.”
“Well, photographs should be helpful. My father has psychic ability, but it’s different than mine. If he can look at a picture of victim and get a feel for what the spirits are currently thinking…” Jenny’s eyes circulated around the table. “…maybe the spirits themselves can let us know something new.”
Chapter 9
“I think I can do that for you,” Rod said. “You say the link is in my inbox?”
“It should be,” Jenny replied. “I sent it just a minute ago.”
“Okay, well, let me take a look at those for you. I’ll call you in a few.”
“Thanks, Pop. I know you’re at work…are you sure you won’t get in trouble for this?”
“There’s a murderer on the loose,” Rod replied. “I think that’s more important that this paperwork I’m looking at.”
With a giggle Jenny bid her father goodbye and began the painful process of waiting for his return phone call. To distract herself, she turned to Zack and said, “What do you think would be the most productive use of our time today?”
“I think we should definitely focus on the murders,” he replied. “I know Jessica called us out here to help solve her haunting issue, but Samuel can’t hurt anybody. Unfortunately that isn’t true with the other case.”
“They’ve dubbed him the Highway Killer,” Jenny noted. “I read that in the article Jessica showed us.”
“Well, our Highway Killer might strike again. Although, it must freak him out a little bit to know they’ve found his dumping ground.”
“I hope so,” Jenny said. “Maybe that will encourage him to take a little break from the killing.”
“Or maybe he’ll just find a new dumping ground.”
“I like my theory better.”
“I do too, actually,” Zack replied. “I think we should head to the other truck stops today. So far we’ve only focused on Dale’s, but there just as easily could have been abductions from the others.”
Jenny nodded with approval. “I like that idea. I’ll go knock on Amma’s door and see if she’s up for a little road trip. It’ll give me something to do so I don’t go crazy waiting for Pop’s response.”
She walked down the hall and summoned her grandmother, who indicated she’d be more than willing to investigate the other rest areas. As they all headed out the door of the inn, Jenny’s cell phone rang, inciting a chill up her spine.
She looked at the screen and saw it was indeed Rod calling. “Hello?” she said with anticipation.
“Hi, Jenny. I purposely didn’t read the article you sent me because I didn’t want my perception to be clouded. I don’t know the details of the case, so if I spend time stating the obvious, please forgive me.”
“You’re forgiven.”
“When I channeled the first girl, I felt a huge sense of regret.”
“Wait…which girl was that?” Jenny asked. The description Rod gave was that of the Georgia girl who had run away to become a singer.
“Regret was her primary emotion,” Rod continued.” She believed the whole situation could have been avoided if she’d made better choices. I also got the feeling that there was a prolonged period of suffering at the end for her.”
Jenny thought back to the lives of these truck stop prostitutes. That could have indeed been considered a prolonged period of suffering.
“But there was also a blank,” Rod continued.
“A blank?”
“Yes,” Rod replied, “I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. It’s like there was a blip in her existence. A void where there was nothing for a short period of time.”
“That’s strange,” Jenny noted.
“Indeed,” Rod agreed. “Anyway, the second and third girls I channeled expressed both worry and fear as their dominant states. I can’t help but feel that whatever happened to these girls is still a viable threat—not to them, obviously, but to others.”
“Their killer is still on the loose,” Jenny informed him. “At least, as far as we know he is.”
“I think that’s a good assumption,” Rod replied. “If he was in jail on some unrelated charge, I don’t think the girls would be as upset as they are. There’d be some solace in their souls. But their anxiety levels were extraordinarily high—I think this guy might be planning his next attack.”
“Great,” Jenny muttered with a sigh.
“I think it goes without saying that I want you to be careful,” Rod said. “I don’t want you to be his next victim.”
“I don’t think I’m in any danger,” Jenny assured him.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but haven’t you said similar things to me in the past?”
“Okay, we needn’t bring that up,” Jenny stated as she got into the car, although she had to admit a false sense of security had landed her in trouble before. “I’m not this guy’s typical victim. He seems to prey on prostitutes and runaways…girls that wouldn’t be missed.” She hated the sound of those words as they came out of her mouth, so she elaborated. “Or at least girls whose absences wouldn’t cause alarm.” She liked that phrasing better.
“Still, be careful. I’m a little bit concerned by just how worried the girls were,” Rod said. “I hope they’re not worried about you.”
Jenny placed the phone against her shoulder as she started the car. “I don’t think they are,” s
he replied, “but I’ll be careful anyway.”
The truck stop was abuzz with activity. Police officers in full uniform were conducting interviews with truck stop employees as well as young women who appeared to be prostitutes. Jenny turned to her grandmother as she parked the car. “I guess getting a decent reading is out of the question.”
Ingunn looked around. “Agreed. No readings today.”
“Do you think Howell is here?” Zack posed. “Maybe we can at least touch base with him and this trip won’t be a total waste of time.”
“Only one way to find out.” Jenny pulled her phone out of her purse and dialed Officer Howell’s number. He was indeed at a truck stop, just not the same one as Jenny’s gang. “Do you mind if we pay you a visit?” Jenny asked Howell over the phone.
“Not at all,” he replied. “In fact, I have some updates for you. I’ll meet you near the entrance.”
As Jenny pulled her car into the other truck stop, they were approached by Officer Howell. She parked in the first available spot, and they all got out to greet him.
“So what’s new?” Jenny asked as she shielded her eyes from the bright sun.
“Well, we’ve been interviewing people who frequent all four of these truck stops, showing them pictures of the girls that have been identified. So far the only girl who has looked familiar to them was Regina Putetti.”
Jenny felt a hint of shame that the name didn’t ring an immediate bell. She usually liked to know her victims more personally than she had in this case. “Which girl is that?”
“The one from New Jersey. She was a truck stop prostitute for a long time, and her last stint that we know of was here.”
“Here,” Zack repeated as he pointed to the pavement at his feet. “Do you mean this particular truck stop or just this area?”
“This area,” Howell explained. “She made her living at Dale’s, actually.”
Jenny glanced in Ingunn’s direction, but her grandmother continued to look intently at Officer Howell.
“Might she have gotten into a blue car one night at Dale’s? Maybe when a kind-looking man offered her a meal?” Jenny asked.
Officer Howell shook his head. “We may never know for sure, unless the driver of that car tells us so. But first we have to figure out who that is.” He looked pessimistically at Jenny. “And then we need to get him to confess. And give details. Accurate ones. It’s a bit of a tall order.”
“So where did the other girls come from?” Ingunn asked.
Howell shrugged. “We don’t know that yet. I mean, we know where they’re from originally, but we don’t know where they were last seen. Or when. We’ve been contacting friends and family members, trying to determine exactly when these girls went missing. There are also police officers working up and down I95, conducting truck stop interviews, seeing if any of the victims look familiar.”
“Have they gotten anywhere?” Jenny asked.
“Not that I know of,” Howell confessed, “but that’s not to say there hasn’t been progress. An inter-state investigation is an FBI matter, and they certainly don’t report their findings to me. But I have been made aware of something you all might find interesting.”
None of the group spoke, silently inviting him to continue.
“We got a call from a jurisdiction down in North Carolina. They had found a body in a remote location just off the highway earlier in the year. It, too, was near a truck stop.”
“Is that case related to this one?” Jenny asked.
“It’s too soon to tell,” Howell concluded, “but they do have an ID on that victim, and although I wasn’t shown a picture of her…” He turned to Ingunn before he continued, “it seems her complexion was quite fair.”
While Jenny felt herself react to the news, she noticed Ingunn remained unfazed.
“Do they have any suspects in her murder?” Zack asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know too many details about that case; I’ve been too focused on this one. The one thing I do know is that we need to get the autopsy results back on these women. If it is the same perpetrator as the North Carolina murder, he would have probably used the same method to kill all of his victims.” Officer Howell wiped his face with his hands, the gravity of his statement clearly hitting him hard at that moment. Regaining his composure, he added, “I only hope there’s enough evidence to determine a cause of death in the Virginia cases. Some of the bodies had been there a while; the elements may make it impossible to figure out exactly what happened to these girls.”
“Do you know when the autopsy results will come out?” Jenny asked.
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
Jenny silently contemplated the choices before her. Clearly there was too much going on for either of them to get a reading. She turned to Zack and Ingunn and said, “Maybe we should just go back to the inn and do a little research on this North Carolina case. If we can send a picture of this girl to Pop, he might be able to give us a little insight.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Zack agreed.
“We should be done with the majority of our interviews later today,” Howell remarked. “If you want to come back tomorrow to try to…get a contact…you should have quiet.” He seemed unsure how to phrase exactly what Jenny and Ingunn did. “Well, maybe quiet is an overstatement; you’ll just have your run-of-the-mill truck stop chaos. Hopefully that will be quiet enough.”
After thanking the officer, Zack, Jenny and Ingunn returned to the inn. Upon walking into the lobby, Jenny noticed the couple who had given them the Civil War information sitting at a table playing checkers. She waved hello, and they did the same with large, friendly smiles. They seemed like such nice people; if only Jenny could have remembered their names.
Zack headed to the Statesman room to retrieve his laptop while Jenny and Ingunn sat at a dining table. “So,” Jenny began, “do you have any intuition about this North Carolina case?”
“Not yet,” Ingunn said flatly.
A gust of wind whipped briefly through the lobby. In the midst of the breeze, Jenny was overcome by a horrible feeling of intense fever engulfing her; every joint in her body ached. Horrible pain surged through her stomach, almost causing her to double over. Had the feeling lasted any longer, she probably would have collapsed to the floor. Mercifully the sensation vanished quickly, and she was restored to full health.
She looked at Ingunn with wide eyes. “Did you feel that?”
“Yes,” Ingunn replied, actually showing signs of being disturbed. “It looks like our little Samuel didn’t escape the illness that claimed his family after all.”
“It was awful,” Jenny concluded. Zack had returned, and the three of them were sitting at the table. “It was the worst I’d ever felt, illness-wise.” She had to acknowledge her own morning sickness paled in comparison; she’d need to remember that and try to avoid complaining the next time it happened.
Zack looked concerned. “I’m glad the sensation was short-lived.”
“Me too,” Jenny said emphatically, pointing over to the couple playing checkers. “I remember that guy saying that disease took out a lot of the Civil War soldiers, but I can’t remember what diseases he mentioned.” Her shoulders sank. “I also can’t remember his name.” She wondered if being scatterbrained was another symptom of pregnancy.
“He seemed like a nice enough guy,” Zack noted, “and it was obvious he liked to talk about this stuff. You should just go over and ask him.”
“Ask him for what?” Jenny posed. “Information about diseases or his name?”
“Both,” Zack replied.
As Zack set up his laptop, Jenny waited for the game of checkers to come to its end. As the couple started to get up from the table, Jenny approached them with a smile. “Hello again.”
“Hello, young lady,” the man said with exaggerated excitement. “Are you enjoying your vacation?”
“Absolutely,” Jenny replied; while that wasn’t entirely true, she decided complete disclosure was unnecessa
ry. “I hope you are too.”
“We’re retired,” he chuckled. “Our lives are one big vacation.”
“That sounds fantastic,” Jenny said sincerely. “I hope you don’t mind, but I was wondering if I could ask you a few more questions about the Civil War era.” With a wince she added, “Although I have to confess that I don’t remember your names.”
“Well, good,” the woman replied pleasantly. “That will make me feel better when I ask for your name again.” The couple re-introduced themselves as Roy and Florence—names which sounded familiar once Jenny heard them.
“So, what is it you’d like to know?” Roy asked.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Florence said to Jenny with a knowing wink, “there’s a book in my room with my name on it.” Remembering that Florence liked to have Roy out of her hair from time to time, Jenny returned the wink and bid farewell to Florence, who went on to enjoy her solitude.
Jenny and Roy sat down on the couch in the lobby. “I wanted to know a little more about the diseases that claimed some of the soldiers back then.”
Roy didn’t bother to ask why. “Well, there are a few. One of the more common ones was dysentery.”
“I don’t even know what that is,” Jenny confessed.
“Actually, I think you do—you just know it by a different name. You know that Norovirus that hits people on cruise ships? That’s a form of dysentery.”
Jenny’s eyes widened. “That can be fatal?”
“Not so much anymore,” Roy declared, “but back then was a different story. Today if you get it, you rest comfortably in your bed and take medicine. If you have it bad enough, you go to the hospital and get IV fluid. During the Civil War, those soldiers had very little in the way of shelter; even in the dead of winter, they lived in tents. A lot of the food they ate was rotten, and their access to medicine was quite limited. Those conditions are not exactly conducive to recovery, and prolonged stomach issues can lead to severe dehydration…to the point of being fatal.”
“What were the symptoms of it?”
“Diarrhea, mostly. Sometimes a fever.”