The Crying Season: An edge-of-your-seat crime thriller

by D. K. Hood

  10

  As Kane led the way to the backpacks, he surveyed the ground, hoping to find some small shred of evidence to link to the killer. Behind him, Wolfe walked slowly, often pausing to peer intently at something. Kane stopped and turned to Wolfe. “I considered offering Duke some of the clothing in the backpack to see if he can track the woman. Do you think a scent will still be around after so long?”

  “Doubtful. I would say it’s been at least a year since the woman died, and not many scents would survive the snowfall; even here with the protection of the trees, when the melt comes the entire area is pretty well washed clean.” Wolfe pushed back his hat. “I’m hoping I find some evidence under the body. Killers often make the mistake of leaving evidence under a body. I hope we find something useful.”

  “How long will it take to move the remains?”

  “Not long—it’s one body, and not an archaeological dig. From what Jenna said before, it appears to be intact. It wasn’t buried, so this will make it easier.” Wolfe waved toward the backpacks. I’m glad you took some photos of the area before you went in. Get some shots of the bags from all angles. I’m interested to see what has grown on and around them; it gives me a better idea of how long they have been here.” He sighed. “I’m hoping I can get something from the cellphone records; a date and time would be very useful but from what I can see the damn thing looks like a burner.”

  “A burner?” Kane scratched his cheek. “Who would take a burner on a trip like this?” He pulled out his cellphone and took the required photographs, snapping every item Wolfe removed from the backpacks.

  Wolfe was bending and placing items from the backpacks into evidence bags. “Food, energy bars, and water. They were moving away from their camp.” He straightened, handing off the bags to Kane. “We know they’re not from the local area, so how did they get here? I’m sure a vehicle left abandoned on the road would have sent up a red flag for the rangers. They would have made a search of the area and there would be a record. Make a note to call them in case they found one. It could have been towed to the impound lot.”

  Kane shook his head. “Nope, we have the keys to the lot and it’s empty as far as I’m aware.”

  “Did you search the remains for keys?”

  “Nope. I thought it better not to touch anything. I did find the wallets inside the backpacks, which I thought strange. I keep mine in my back pocket, nice and safe. The woman maybe, but I can’t imagine why they kept both sets of ID in the backpacks.” He frowned. “Unless they planned to swim somewhere, but there isn’t anything close on this side of the mountain.”

  “The Canavars found the skull off the main trail in the bushes.” Wolfe turned and looked back the way they had come. “Are the remains of the man on or off a trail?”

  Kane pointed in the direction they had traveled. “On an old trail. Back the way we came and to the left. I found the track on an old map listed as an auxiliary trail or animal track that runs along the foot of the mountain. There is a plateau to climb to if they planned on taking in the view but it’s some ways away.”

  “Why would a young couple risk getting lost up here or eaten by wildlife?” Wolfe bent again to collect soil samples and pieces of vegetation from the area.

  The same worry had drifted through Kane’s mind when asking Jenna on a similar trip. “I figure they needed to get away from civilization, just the two of them.” He shrugged. “I know how to survive out here, and for me it wouldn’t be a problem. I’d come with a satellite phone and plenty of supplies dropped off along the way, plus I’d make sure I arranged to contact someone at least once a day.” He took another evidence bag from Wolfe. “Perhaps this man had similar training?”

  “Or he was an idiot,” Wolfe held up a couple of the evidence bags and frowned, “looking at what he had with him.” He sighed. “Okay show me the remains.” He hoisted a huge backpack over his shoulders. “We’ll grab Webber on the way, I’ll need his help.”

  “How is he working out?”

  Wolfe let out a snort and gave Kane a pensive look. “He is a fine young man, keen, works hard but has eyes for Emily.” His expression changed to borderline angry. “I know she is studying hard and will be going to the University of Great Falls soon but I can’t stop him visiting her there. I want her to finish her degree and work with me before she gets pinned down with a family.”

  “Whoa, he is way too old for her.” Kane stopped walking and gaped at him in astonishment. “That worries me and I’m not her father.”

  “Yeah, and she is a headstrong woman as you well know.” Wolfe gave a strangled half laugh. “She takes after me, I’m afraid.”

  “I wouldn’t say a word to her… She has your stubborn streak.” Kane straightened. “I’d tell him you’re not happy with the situation at the moment because of her age. Give him a reason to pull back a bit, maybe ask him to consider waiting until she finishes her studies. That will take years. He wants to work with you, so I figure he’d comply.” He smiled. “With luck, she might meet someone closer to her own age at college.”

  “I’ll live in hope.”

  At the clearing, Webber was at work collecting the crime scene kits from the packhorse. Kane moved to his side. “I’m glad you think ahead.”

  “Time is our enemy right now; removing the remains then getting back to the road before dark will be difficult.” Wolfe glanced around. “I’ve been hearing gunshots in the distance. Just how far are we from the nearest hunting area?”

  “Probably a mile or two.” Kane stowed the evidence bags into one of the saddlebags on the horse. “Sound carries up here and echoes on the mountain. We are out of range of most rifles.”

  “How far to the remains?” Wolfe walked to his side. “Grab what you can, Webber. We’ll carry the rest.”

  Kane picked up a couple of the bags. “Just through there.” He pushed his way through the bushes. “Come on, Duke, keep up.”

  The dog let out a yap of reply and followed him, peeing on trees along the way. As they got closer to the remains, Kane picked up a rancid smell on the breeze he had not noticed earlier. He slowed his step and did a visual scan of the area but found nothing moving within the mottled shadows.

  “Has the temperature just dropped or is it me?” Webber trailed along behind them, lugging the equipment.

  Kane glanced back at him and smiled. He could remember having the same feeling of dread entering a crime scene and had squashed it many a time. The morbid feeling would pass with experience. “It’s just you. Most likely apprehension at seeing a man pinned to a tree with an arrow.”

  “Keep your mind focused on discovering what we can do to help him now.” Wolfe’s cold expression moved to Webber. “We are his only hope to get revenge on the sick bastard who killed him. Once we can prove this man’s name, he is no longer ‘the victim’ or ‘the remains.’ Do not forget someone took his life and what we do from now on determines how, when, and hopefully why he died.”

  “Sure.” Webber did not look convinced. “Do you think he’s watching us, like a ghost?”

  Kane slapped him on the back. “If he is, maybe he’ll give us a few clues.” He turned to Wolfe. “Through those trees is a path; the remains are down there about ten feet along.”

  “Okay, we should drop the equipment once we hit the path, suit up, then move in with just a crime scene kit for now. Check the area for anything we can use.”

  They arrived on the pathway and moved slowly in a line searching for any small clue. When they reached the remains, Kane heard Webber’s sharp intake of breath. Kane turned to look at his ashen face. “We believe this is Dawson Sanders, age twenty-four.”

  “That’s not an arrow.” Webber moved closer. “It’s a bolt from a crossbow: carbon with a brass insert. They are expensive and that size could take down a bear.” He peered at the bolt with interest. “It has an illuminated nock. So why leave it behind?”

  “Yeah, I think we might need more of an explanation, Webber.” Wolfe flicked him a gla
nce.

  “Carbon bolts with brass inserts or a mixture of carbon and aluminum are expensive; the illuminated nocks make it easier to recover the bolts. The nock is the orange part on the end and it usually glows, so this has been here for some time. Most hunters recover their bolts.” Webber glanced at Kane. “It seems strange to leave it behind in a crime. It would likely carry the owner’s prints.”

  Kane met his gaze. “That is vital information. I had no idea you were an expert on crossbows.”

  “Yeah, it’s my hunting weapon of choice.” Webber smiled. “Silent but deadly.”

  “Unfortunately, we would be lucky to find any viable prints after a year or so.” Wolfe sighed then pulled a camera from his backpack and handed it to Kane. “Film everything, the pathway, the area around the body, and the body.” He turned to Webber. “You take the photographs and remember there can’t be too many images of a crime scene. If you both start with Mr. Sanders, then I’ll examine his remains.”

  Kane was familiar with the camera and zoomed in on the body at every angle before walking slowly up and down the path. When he returned to Wolfe, his friend dropped to his knees, lifted the ragged shirt, and peered at the skeletal remains. He kept the camera steady.

  “Interesting.” Wolfe bent closer. “The damage to the thoracic spine is inconsistent with the damage to the ribs. I believe the killer shot this man in the back, and from the entry angle, the victim was standing at the time. The nicks on the ribs would indicate the shots entered him in the lower thoracic spine and travelled at an angle of approximately twenty degrees, exiting just below the clavicle on the left side. There are no bullets within the body cavity, so we’re looking at three through-and-through wounds.” He turned and looked down the trail. “There is not enough damage for the intention to kill outright with one shot. The point is, how far away would the killer need to be to put three rounds in a man walking along this trail?”

  Kane took in the terrain and mentally tried to recreate the murder. A shooter would need a clear line of sight between the trees. To hit a moving target in the woods would take a reasonable degree of skill. As vegetation changed with the seasons, it would be close to impossible to gauge the position of the shooter with any accuracy without a laser scope. “That would depend on the weapon. From the angle you mentioned and the approximate height of the victim, he would have been walking in a northerly direction. To obtain the trajectory you are describing, the shooter would have been downhill, or likely kneeling or lying down. Many hunters build blinds, and set up inside. If the wounds are through and through, the bullets must be somewhere close by.”

  “Yeah, and by the size of his jacket he had a broad chest, so the bullets wouldn’t have traveled very far once they left the body.” Wolfe’s forehead creased into a frown. “I’ll check the soil under the body but if the rounds had been hollow points, they would have ripped his ribs apart.”

  “Webber, check the immediate area.”

  “Yes, sir.” Webber gave him a curt nod, pocketed his cellphone, and moved slowly up the track.

  Kane glanced around the scene again, not convinced they were in the correct position. “Problem is, we are assuming he was shot here. From his injuries, could he have crawled to the tree?”

  “Doubtful. One of the shots would have pierced his heart, the other two his lungs. I’d say he died within seconds of the third shot.”

  “So, he could have been dragged here from anywhere along the trail?” Kane rubbed his chin. “We’ll expand the search, looking for blinds and bullet casings from at least twenty yards in the southerly direction, although I doubt we’ll find anything after so long. We should have thought to bring a metal detector.”

  “There would be hundreds, maybe thousands, of casings in the forest.” Wolfe shook his head. “Hunting goes on just about all year long. For now, check the immediate area. Time is getting short and I need to get the remains back to the lab. Keep filming everything I do.” He stood. “I want close-up shots of the neck and head. I’m going to remove the head; if this bolt is approximately twenty inches long, it’s not embedded too deeply in the trunk of the tree.”

  As Kane zoomed in, a cold wind brushed his cheek. What Wolfe was doing came close to the macabre. He forced his mind to concentrate but memories of the targets he had killed in the line of duty played in a loop like one of those annoying ads on TV that drove him crazy. He wondered how many of them had rotted away alone in a deserted place like Dawson Sanders. At least the ones I killed didn’t suffer.

  11

  He moved along the trail with a bag of trail cams slung over one shoulder. Preparation was the key to a good hunt and he prided himself on being well ahead of the game. He smiled, feeling satisfied he had found the perfect place.

  He spent time preparing the trail by moving a few logs here and there to block an escape and clearing the old pathway to encourage the prey to run in the right direction. He wanted full view of Bailey at all times via the trail cams. Best of all, if a hunter or anyone else wandered along and stumbled over the cameras, they would not give them a second glance. So many people used them, from nature studies to tracking game movement.

  Humming as he worked, he stopped to attach a trail cam to a tree. He set it up and checked to make sure it worked. Run on a motion sensor, each camera sent an image to his cellphone and he could access a live feed and upload it to the net or anywhere else he chose. By using live feeds, he would know exactly where to find the women. He loved to watch the reruns; the chase was different every time, and the pleading and begging in the moments before he finished them gave him an adrenaline rush. He had so much entertainment stored on backup drives he could relive his kills at any time. This was the second part of his preparation; next he would construct blinds along the way to conceal his presence before the kill.

  He checked the images on his cellphone to make sure no one could recognize him from any angle. It was not worth risking his identity even in the preparation. After making his way back up the pathway, he turned and walked slowly, scanning the areas where he had attached the trail cams. Satisfied he had hidden them all out of sight, he collected his bag then headed back to his camp to collect the necessary equipment to build the blinds.

  He had found the cave years ago and it served him well. A rock formation and a line of trees concealed the entrance, but to be sure, he had constructed a sturdy gate and a portable electric fence to dissuade bears. Exhilaration and power tingled through him the moment he slipped into the cave. He inhaled, enjoying the thrill of the stale odor, and turned on the lantern hanging from the wall. “Almost done. Maybe you’ll have a new friend to keep you company soon.”

  He scrutinized the skeletons wrapped in plastic sitting propped up against the wall of the cave. It excited him to visit them and he often returned to relive the moment they had become part of his family. He had chosen each one of them and not all his kills made it into his collection. Here in the cave, the memories of watching them die with a mixture of surprise and shock filled his mind in brilliant clarity. He sucked in the thrill like a drug and lived off the high for weeks but regarded these kills as priceless and a testament to his ingenuity. He made his inspection, walking along the row, and bent to push a tuft of hair back inside the plastic. “That’s better.”

  Some of them leaned over as if whispering a secret to another, and dark, soulless eyes followed his every move, but they liked it here. Every one of them returned his smile.

  12

  Aching muscles plagued Jenna with each step through the unforgiving terrain. She assumed that by pushing her body during the early-morning workouts with Kane, her muscles would have accepted horse riding, but they had plotted revenge and the climb uphill had done her stiff legs no favors at all. What made it worse was Kane rarely showed any signs of fatigue, although he suffered cruel headaches from the plate in his head and often hid his discomfort from her. In truth, he never complained. She had swallowed a couple of paracetamol with her lunch and would keep going no matt
er what. Showing weakness in front of her deputies was not an option. Sometimes being sheriff sucks.

  “I think I’ve found something.” Bradford pointed to something metal peeking out from under the forest floor. “I’ll take a few pictures.”

  Jenna gave herself a mental shake. “It looks like a belt buckle.” She pulled out a pair of gloves and pulled them on with a snap. “I’ll take a look. Get an evidence bag ready.”

  After taking a pen from her pocket, she bent down and lifted a few leaves from the end of the buckle then stopped. The buckle shone through the debris but it was not the leather belt attached that had halted her movements. The belt was in a tight loop with one long end disappearing into the undergrowth, and in between, she made out bones. She had seen enough skeletons to recognize them as human forearms. “Stay back.” She stood, waving Bradford away, then took a roll of crime scene tape out of her pocket and wrapped it around the tree to mark the area.

  “Are they human?” The color drained from Bradford’s face.

  “Yeah, pretty sure. From what I can make out, these are more bones belong to the female skull the Canavars found. Wolfe will confirm but I figure we have two bodies in total. The male tied to the tree and the partial remains of a female, spread out over this area.” Jenna opened the mic on her earpiece. “Kane, I’ve found more remains. I’ll secure the scene.”

  “Roger that.” Kane’s voice came into her earpiece.

  Jenna pushed back the revulsion of what her find implied. “Looks like two forearms secured with a leather belt. They are small, so it could be the missing parts of the woman Wolfe and Blackhawk found.” She sighed. “I only lifted a few leaves. I don’t know how much is under there but it is close to a tree. Maybe he had her tied up here. Ask Wolfe what he wants me to do.”