“I asked the same question,” Cameron replied with an exasperated sigh and shake of his head. “They should have caught it.”
“Damn straight, they should have,” Frank said. “So does anybody know for sure if the car was here while the Keystone Cops were busy stumbling over one another?”
“Time sequence seems to fit. The girl left home around two on Saturday, which puts her here around five-ish, and as we know, she never made it any further. Meanwhile, Judith closes her store at four the same day to go out of town. She was supposed to be back this morning to open the shop. She didn’t.”
“So both of them ended up here around the same time,” replied Frank, shaking his head, “and our deputies are idiots.”
“I’ll take part of the blame for that, Frank. Should have kept a closer watch on what they were doing. Besides the timeline to prove it, we also have logic—a crime scene’s the last place anyone would want to leave Judith’s car.”
Frank turned around to observe the string of news vans lining the road. “Hard to get past all that.”
“Plus, the tire tracks leading to the creek don’t look fresh. They’ve been here a while, at least a few days. Which leads to my next concern—”
“Felicity Champion’s killed in one location,” Frank said, “and her car’s left in another. Then Hedrick’s car is found not far from that. Shit. Two women, one killer. You said you didn’t think so.”
“That was before Judith’s car turned up here. Kinda hard to ignore it.”
Frank put his hands on his hips and gazed out at the road, shaking his head. “Be a hell of a coincidence.”
“And pretty unlikely.”
“But why would the killer dump Hedrick’s car, then leave Champion’s out in plain view? Doesn’t make sense.”
“Don’t have an answer for that right now, Frank.”
“And something else … if Hedrick is dead, where the hell’s her body?” Anybody go back and check where we found Champion?”
Cameron nodded. “Searched the area for several miles—twice now—plus this one, too. Didn’t find anything.”
“Without a body, we don’t even know if she’s dead … and your two-women-one-killer theory goes right out the door.”
“True, but still, we can’t rule out the connection. Seems like a strong possibility.”
“But it doesn’t hold water, not unless we find something linking one killer to both crimes.”
Cameron moved forward a few steps toward the edge of the canyon, crossed his arms, and looked down. “I know one thing. If we’re tracking patterns here, the odds don’t look good for Judith.”
Frank put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder and gazed down with him. So what’s your next move?”
“The obvious one.” Cameron paused, then sighed. “Dead or alive, we’ve got to find Judith. And we’ve got to find her quick.”
Chapter Forty-Five
The Landing Doc Café
Albuquerque, New Mexico
It caught the light from all the way across the room, and Kyle’s attention at the same time.
She and Josh had just sat down to have lunch at The Landing Doc. The restaurant was next door to the medical building where Kyle’s practice was located. It was a favorite spot, and doctors and nurses began filling the place daily, starting around noon.
Josh watched as his sister’s face went blank, her mouth slightly open. “Hey … hello? Still with me here?”
Kyle said nothing. She was staring across the room.
“Um, Sis?” he said, his voice a little louder this time.
Kyle snapped out of her daze as if someone had just yanked her arm. “That’s it!”
“What is?” asked Josh.
“The caduceus.”
“Ca-what?”
“Caduceus,” she repeated while nodding toward a nurse who was sitting across from them and eating her lunch. “See on her lapel, the pin with the winged staff and two snakes wrapped around it?”
“The medical symbol?” He shrugged. “You see it everywhere. What’s so special?”
“It was in my dreams. I didn’t remember until now. That’s because I’m bombarded with the thing all day long, and I’ve conditioned myself to ignore it, which is what I did when I saw it … blocked it out.”
Josh raised an eyebrow. “And it’s important because … ?”
“Because everything looked so weird in the dream, you know? The equipment, the medical personnel, even the operating room—it seemed outdated, and not by just a few years, either. It was like I was viewing something from a long time ago.”
“How long ago?”
“Hard to say. I wasn’t paying much attention to the surroundings … too focused on the people … trying to figure out what they were doing, but that symbol—it might tell me.”
“Tell you? How?” He stabbed a French fry with his fork, doused it in ketchup, took a bite.
“It looked different from any other I’ve seen before. I may be able to research it, figure out the time period.” She thought for a moment, then added, “It had a big letter N across it.”
“Letter N.” He rubbed his chin while stealing another glance at the woman’s Caduceus pin. She noticed him staring. Josh quickly looked back at Kyle. “Then you can work your way forward, maybe pick up a few more clues along the way.”
“Exactly.” She stared down at her half-eaten sandwich, thought for a moment, then looked back at Josh. “And to think it was right there all the time.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Felice’s Diner
Faith, New Mexico
Cameron walked into Felice’s and found Margaret tucked away in a booth, sipping coffee, and poring over paperwork.
“Guess the Mexican food hit the spot,” he said. “You’re still alive … and you came back. Mind if I join you?”
“Please,” she said, gesturing toward the empty seat. “Not a bad little place you got here. Not bad at all.”
“We like it. Food’s great, and it’s cozy,” Cameron said while sitting down.
“Wasn’t talking about the restaurant—although their enchiladas are the bomb. Was talking about the town. Has a lot of appeal. Reminds me of where I grew up.”
“Yeah? Where’s that?”
“Place called Fountain Lake, Wisconsin. It’s near the Minnesota border.”
Cameron shook his head. “Never heard of it.”
“My point, exactly,” she said with a smile, then, shifting toward more practical matters: “Heard about your missing woman. What a drag.”
“Yeah … complicates things, to say the least—speaking of which, got some information you may find useful.”
“Oh?” Margaret said, tilting her head slightly.
“Found her car. Hedrick’s, that is.”
“You did? Where?”
Cameron cleared his throat. “Not far from where Champion’s was.”
Margaret looked off at the table next to them for a split second, then back at Cameron. “I don’t get it. How did they—”
“Don’t ask. Long story,” Cameron said. “Anyway, it obviously changes the scope of things, creates a possible link between the two women.”
“Damn straight, it does. The question now, what’s the connection?”
“Hard to say. Too soon to know, really. We searched Hedrick’s vehicle.”
“Find anything?”
“Some blood,” Cameron said. “Lab’s got it.”
“I’ll wanna see whatever they find,” she said.
“Naturally.”
“Any immediate thoughts?”
Cameron gazed out through the diner’s front window, sighed. “Well, of course, judging by the close proximity of the two vehicles, seems possible we’ve got one perp going after both of them. That would be one. But with Hedrick still missing … hard to say.”
She nodded, appearing thoughtful. “Need a body.”
“Well, the last thing I need here is another murder, but yeah, I know what you mean.”
“Strange, though,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“With all the other crimes having different killers, seems odd, a double murder, suddenly coming from out of nowhere …”
“True, but odd does seem to be the flavor of the day around here.”
“Damn Skippy on that.” She looked down at the table, thought for a moment, then glanced back up at Cameron. “Well, at least there’s one thing may come out of it.”
“What?”
“Like I said earlier, I thought they were all related—I just didn’t know how.” Then she raised her eyebrows. “Maybe this’ll tell us.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Sheriff’s Station
Faith, New Mexico
The roast beef sandwich tasted like a dry sponge pressed between two sheets of cardboard. After several attempts at eating it, Frank wrapped the whole mess back up and tossed it into the trash.
Cameron walked in, and Frank glanced up with a sneer. “You look happier than you’ve got a right to be. Don’t you know people are getting killed around here?”
“Good afternoon to you, too,” said Cameron. “Bad day?”
“I’m a tad under the weather,” Frank said, creasing a thick brow. “Six murders and another on the way’ll do that to ya. What’s up?”
“Got the lab report we’ve been waiting for.”
“You don’t say.” Frank’s expression lightened slightly, but not enough to denote any measure of satisfaction.
“You said you needed more evidence.” Cameron held the folder up. “I have more evidence. Remember our green fiber?”
“The one on the Champion girl?”
“That’s the one. Turns out it’s pretty unusual. Not something you see every day.”
“Lime-green,” Frank said with a grunt. “Hideous color. We knew that.”
Cameron pointed to the report. “Not just the color. The material. It’s angora.”
“Okay. I can’t even match my shoes with my belt. Tell me what it means.”
“Comes from an English angora rabbit, the softest of all, used to make sweaters—women’s sweaters.”
Frank’s expression shifted in an instant, going from annoyance to shock. “You’ve got to be kidding me ... killer’s a female?”
“And if that’s true, it for sure rules out Ryan Churchill as a suspect.”
“Shit.” Frank stopped to think for a minute, then suddenly looked up at Cameron. “Margaret know about any of this?”
“She knows we found Hedrick’s car. Saw her at Felice’s and mentioned it to her. But not this, not yet.”
“Better give her an update.”
“Will do, boss.”
Frank began moving his lips as if counting. “So if all this is true, it brings our total up to four suspects: Foley, Churchill, whoever killed Witherspoon, and now Champion’s killer … a woman?”
“Then there’s Judith,” Cameron said. “Don’t forget about her.”
“Like I could.”
“If she’s dead, also at the hands the same killer …”
Frank sighed, heaved himself out of his chair, then went over to gaze out the window. “You check the calendar lately?”
“No. Why?”
“Oh, nuthin. Just wondering if there’s a scheduled apocalypse. I never got the memo.”
Cameron cleared his throat. “Something else, Frank.”
“What?”
“Daytime temperatures have been close to ninety. Now that we know the killer was wearing a sweater …”
Frank turned back from the window to look at Cameron, shook his head. “Doesn’t make any sense.”
“Ben had flu symptoms, remember?”
“Yeah?”
“Teacher said he had the chills, one of the symptoms of the flu. When you have the chills, you can’t get warm, even when you’re wrapped in blankets.”
Frank nodded slowly. “Or while wearing an angora sweater.”
“You got it.”
Frank went back to his desk, then sat down. He ran the back of his hand under his chin several times as if it might help him think better. “More similarities—they keep popping up.”
“Something else here,” Cameron said. “Remember the blood in Hedrick’s car?”
“Yeah.”
“Wasn’t hers.”
“What the … who’d it belong to, then?”
“Report just came over the fax.” He paused for a long moment. “Felicity Champion’s.”
“The hell? What’s Champion’s blood doing in Hedrick’s car?”
“Got a theory on that.” Cameron walked toward him. “Lets say the suspect lures Champion to the side of the road, maybe acts in distress or something. Remember, if the killer’s another female, she’ll appear less threatening to her.”
“And Champion stops to assist.”
“Yep. Suspect grabs her, attacks her. Then Judith comes driving by and notices the two struggling, stops to help. I know her—she’d do it in a minute,” Cameron said. “She gets out, gets killed in the process as well. Now the suspect has two bodies, two cars, and very little time to get the hell out of Dodge.”
“Makes sense,” Frank acknowledged. “It’d explain why the scene was so sloppy.”
“She puts Champion in Hedrick’s car, dumps the body a few miles out, then takes the vehicle back to the scene—maybe to go finish the job, get rid of Judith. Chucks the car into the canyon.”
“But what about Champion’s car? She just leaves it sitting there? In plain view?”
Cameron shrugged. “Fits the pattern. Suspect was in over her head by then. Didn’t know what the hell to do. Probably knew the longer she stuck around, the better her chances were of getting caught. She panicked, realized there was no time to dispose of the other car, took off.”
“Okay. I can see her leaving the car behind,” Frank said, “but if she took off on foot, what’d she do with Hedrick?”
“That whole area’s surrounded by woods. We searched through some of it, but I have a feeling not well enough—that was before we knew Judith went missing. Her body could still be out there, maybe well hidden, not too far away. We need to get back out there, Frank, need to keep looking … really looking. If we missed the car, we damn well could’ve missed Judith as well. Gotta go deeper, find her.”
“Indigestion,” Frank said. “I’m getting indigestion.”
“Time to get busy, boss—sort through all this—make sense of it.”
Frank was rooting around in a drawer for calcium tablets as he spoke. “Get some deputies out there, good ones—ones who know what the hell they’re doing. I don’t want another train wreck.”
Cameron nodded.
“Meanwhile, the angora fiber. Let’s get that nailed down. It could be the key to finding our killer. I want to know everything about it.”
“Already on it,” Cameron assured him. “Lab’s still trying to narrow down its origins, working on determining what type of dye was used and which manufacturers might have put it in their products. If we can figure out where it was sold, it might lead us right to our killer.”
“Good. It’s the most solid piece of evidence we have so far. Now let’s see where it takes us. Tell me everything you can about it, short of which rabbit it came from and who plucked it.”
“Why stop there?”
“All right,” Frank muttered back. “Get me that, too.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
7586 Chrysanthemum Way
Faith, New Mexico
Deputies launched a full-scale search in the wooded area along Highway Ten, the same one where Felicity Champion’s body had turned up several days before. Now they were looking for Judith Hedrick, also presumed dead. Then it was on to where both women’s cars were dumped. They were leaving nothing to chance this time. If she was there, they were going to find her.
Judith was probably another victim in a bizarre string of sadistic murders in their town. Feeling as though he needed more in t
he way of evidence—especially since Judith’s body still hadn’t turned up—Cameron decided her house might be the place to find it.
Unfortunately, time was becoming less of a luxury, more of a challenge. He needed to delegate responsibility if he was going to win this war. With his top man, Jim Avello, leading the search along the highway, he knew things were in good hands, enough to where he could break away and start working some other angles.
***
From outside, Judith’s place looked like a dollhouse: small, quaint, and neat. The outer walls were pale olive with crisp, eggshell-white trim. Flowers—lots of them—sprang up everywhere, a riot of color filling her front yard.
On the front door, a cheerful hand-painted sign hung with the words: “Everyone’s Welcome!” But beneath that, yellow tape stretched across, adding, “CRIME SCENE—KEEP OUT.”
Cameron nodded to the deputy standing guard outside, pushed the door open, then ducked beneath the tape to enter the house.
Calling the place a mess would have been kind; it was in shambles, worlds away from the orderly manner Cameron knew Judith always liked to keep it.
He frowned.
Who did this to her?
He moved toward the living room, bending over and picking up books off the floor, reading the titles as he went along, mostly cookbooks. That didn’t surprise him. Cameron remembered the wonderful meals she’d prepared for him in the past, back when he and her son, Jason, were friends. He put the books back on their shelves.
Cameron moved into the kitchen and checked the cabinets: Empty—every single one of them—every dish thrown across the room, smashed. He moved back to the living room where most of the broken pieces had landed, picking them up as he went along. Detectives had already dusted as many of the fragments as they could for prints; however, the only ones they’d found had been Judith’s. No surprise to Cameron. Most organized criminals these days had the foresight to wear gloves.
He went back to the living room and shone a flashlight under the sofa and loveseat. Nothing there, not even so much as a dust ball: Judith always kept her house immaculate.
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