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

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The Crying Season: An edge-of-your-seat crime thriller Page 7

by D. K. Hood


  14

  Later that afternoon, he walked to the Weapons, Fishing and Ammunition store. He peered across the road at a couple walking by hand in hand and snorted in disgust. To think a man could tie himself willingly to a viper like her. The way she tossed her hair and fluttered her eyelashes at every man they walked by was no better than hearing her long red nails scrape down a blackboard. Why men committed themselves to years of mental torture, he could not imagine. He had to admit the woman was attractive, but looks fade and it was likely she would be in another man’s bed before the year was out.

  With a grin, he lifted the rifle and aimed it at the couple through the window, lining them up. No sport on earth matched the rush he experienced hunting humans, and it lasted because he could watch the reruns anytime he chose. Oh yes, he used the trail cams to record every delicious moment.

  The shopkeeper’s voice speaking to another customer brought him back to reality and he lowered the rifle. Not that he planned to purchase anything. He had never been a foolish man, and buying a rifle in town then using it to kill someone would be beyond stupid.

  He had little preparation left to do. His guns waited in his cave, loaded and ready. Earlier, he’d set the trail cams in place, spread over a wide area, just in case Bailey managed to get away from him. He had covered every contingency to provide a good hunt. His client would meet him at an appointed spot, no names would be exchanged, no trace left to connect him to her murder.

  He strolled to the counter and smiled at the assistant. “Nice, very nice, but I’ll think it over. I’m not planning on hunting again until spring. I’ve been too busy of late.” He handed him the rifle then strolled from the store.

  He glanced up at the sky; the forecast for the morning was clear and cool with expected carnage. A chuckle spilled from his throat. He could almost taste blood in the air. I can’t wait.

  15

  After dinner, Jenna flopped on Kane’s sofa and rubbed her eyes. Exhausted did not come close to how she felt. Her bones ached from riding and hauling equipment from one crime scene to the other. She took the cup of coffee from Kane and smiled. “I’m exhausted. I thought I would fall asleep standing up in the shower.”

  “You didn’t have to help me tend the horses.” He sat beside her and placed his two large feet on the coffee table. “Although I did appreciate the help.”

  Jenna shrugged and the small movement tugged at her sore muscles. “It’s my horse and I’m responsible for her. From now on I’m helping you muck out in the morning as well.” She stifled a yawn. “I actually enjoy grooming her; it’s a small piece of normality in a crazy world.”

  “Yeah, I feel the same.” He gave her a contented smile. “I know you wanted to discuss the case tonight but I have nothing to add to what I said at the crime scene. I think we are in a holding pattern right now, stuck between a crime of passion, at least a year ago, and a thrill-killer who might strike again.”

  “Wolfe will be able to tell us more when he and the forensic anthropologist examine the remains.” Jenna sipped her beverage. “I guess our idea about taking a couple of days for a short vacation is off the cards now?”

  “Maybe not.” Kane’s grin flashed white. “It’s been at least one year since the murders and Wolfe has a lot to do before we can start investigating. We only want one weekend and could head away from this side of the mountain and follow the trails that wind up into the ranges. Yeah, it will be cold, but we have thermal underwear and the cabins have fireplaces. You’ve been through a lot worse in basic training, I’m sure.”

  Oh, the coffee he made was so good. She stared at him over the rim of her cup, savoring the taste. “I was much younger then but apart from being exhausted from the gruesome murder we had to deal with today, I do enjoy being in the mountains. It has a tragic beauty.” She sighed. “Inside, I know what has happened there, but somehow it’s as if the scenery is trying to make up for man’s mistakes. It’s different every time I go there—the trees are the same but the colors and variety of flowers and wildlife amaze me.”

  “I concentrate on how peaceful it is up there.” He reached for his steaming cup. “It’s like the beaches where many men died in battle. The sea has washed away the blood, leaving no trace of the tragedy. Same here, the forest grows over the damage as if hiding the memory of what happened.” He sucked in a deep breath. “The sea and forests see death every day, animals and fish eat each other. To them it’s survival, to us it’s murder.”

  “How poetic.” Jenna drained her coffee and pushed to her feet. “Thanks for dinner but I must be getting home. I’ll put my cup in the dishwasher and see you in the morning. As much as I would like to stay and chat all night, I don’t really want to sleep in your spare room again.”

  “Leave the cup, I’ll walk you home.” Kane whistled to Duke then headed for the door. “Duke needs to go outside before I turn in.”

  They strolled across the grass to her front porch and she opened the door, punched in the code on her house alarm, and turned back to Kane. He had a habit of waiting until she was safe inside the house. “Thanks for walking me home.”

  “My pleasure.”

  His lips quirked up into a tentative smile and he turned away. “I’ll see you at five if you still want to muck out the stables with me. It won’t take long and will be a good warm-up for our exercise routine.”

  Jenna could not help a smile spreading across her face. She had seen this gentle side of Dave Kane break through his tough exterior before and enjoyed another glimpse. “Sure, I’ll be there to help, and tomorrow is my turn to cook breakfast.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  She watched him amble slowly back to his cottage with Duke at his heels. Maybe the iceman is melting.

  16

  Wednesday

  The following morning Jenna walked into the morgue with Kane to find a blonde woman in her thirties dressed in a white coat bending over the skeletal remains they had retrieved the previous day. The woman glanced up and smiled as the door whooshed shut behind them.

  “Ah, you must be Sheriff Alton and Deputy Kane. Shane has told me so much about you, I feel I know you already.” She removed a surgical glove and offered her hand. “Jill Bates.”

  I hope he hasn’t told you everything about us. Jenna took her hand and smiled. “You must be the forensic anthropologist Wolfe mentioned, and please call me Jenna.”

  Beside her Kane offered his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He glanced around. “Where is Wolfe?”

  “He took some samples down to the lab. We only have the basic autopsy equipment here. He has everything we need for my side of things and of course the DNA testing set up down the hall.”

  Astonished, Jenna gaped at her. “He can do DNA testing here now?”

  “Oh yes, his equipment is impressive.” Jill’s lips curled into a pretty smile. “I think he has a fairy godmother—every time he applies for funding, it comes through in record time. Someone in government must be watching over him.” She laughed.

  Yeah, POTUS can be generous. Jenna heard the door open and Wolfe strode in carrying an iPad. She turned to him. “Ah good. Do you have anything for me yet?”

  “Ah… yes and no.” Wolfe’s gray eyes narrowed. “I see you’ve met Jill. She has been invaluable and will be staying for a couple of days to help out.”

  Jenna nodded. “Not a problem but I hope she is staying at the Cattleman’s Hotel? I wouldn’t put a dog in the Black Rock Falls Motel.”

  “You don’t have to worry, Jenna. I’m staying at Shane’s house.” Jill glanced over at him. “I’ve been crashing in his spare room.”

  “You have no idea how happy Emily is to talk to Jill.” Wolfe’s stern expression turned into a smile of sorts. “She is much like me at the same age and craves knowledge.”

  “How is she handling college?” Kane rubbed the black stubble on his chin. “Not planning on creating a body farm in your backyard, is she?”

  “Oh my goodness.” Jill burst into l
aughter. “You obviously know his daughter better than you think; she is devouring textbooks about dissection at the moment. I was the same; I played with dead things, bones, and fossils when I was a kid.”

  Jenna cleared her throat. “It was never dolls for me either. I had a passion for guns.” The three people looking at her all dropped their jaws at once and she swallowed the laugh bubbling in her throat. She had a crime to solve. “Can we get down to business? Have you discovered anything we can use to positively identify these people?”

  “Yeah, with Jill’s help and contacts, we have obtained the dental records for both victims and compared them. They both have the same health insurance and we tracked them from there.”

  “Yes, I was able to access the database with my password and we’ve gotten a match. Both victims had X-rays recently, which was a bonus.” Jill waved a hand at the shattered remains on the left. “This is Dawson Sanders and his fiancée Paige Allen.”

  “Once we found a match, I did a search and discovered a newspaper article about them.” Wolfe cocked one eyebrow. “He owns a string of hotels and she comes from money. Their engagement party was spread over two pages of the local newspaper.”

  “He was very young to own a string of hotels.” Jenna tapped her bottom lip. “So why come to Black Rock Falls? You would have thought they would have taken a vacation somewhere more luxurious.”

  “I figure we’ll find out soon enough.” Kane moved closer to the pathetic remains of Paige Allen. “The skeleton looks almost complete.” He turned to look at Sanders’ remains. “What happened to their hands?”

  “We believe they were carried away by animals.” Wolfe’s attention shifted to his iPad. “It’s still early in our examination of the remains but from the damage we can see on Sanders, we believe the bolt through his head was post mortem.”

  “Yes.” Jill moved around the remains and indicated with one gloved finger. “The lack of bone scatter and teeth marks would indicate, for some reason, the animals left the rest of Sander’s body alone. Decomposition leaves traces in the clothing and his appears to be normal, which led us to believe he was soaked in gasoline or oil.”

  “Yeah you mentioned that before but who would carry a can of gas up a mountain?” Kane flicked Jenna a disbelieving look then turned back to Wolfe. “Have you tested the clothes yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  Jenna caught Wolfe’s flash of annoyance. Kane wanted answers yesterday, and what Wolfe and Jill had achieved in a short time had been incredible. She patted Kane on the arm. “I asked for the identities of the victims and they have confirmed that in record time. You know how long it takes to do all the tests.”

  “We’re working with next to nothing here.” Wolfe gave her a grateful look and shrugged. “Piecing the skeletons together took hours and we haven’t had time to determine the cause of death for Paige Allen.” He glanced at Kane. “I suggest you find their camp—it must be within walking distance from where we found them—and look for a gas can in the general area. From the contents of their backpacks they couldn’t have traveled for more than an hour from where we found them.”

  Jenna shook her head. “We are talking about a massive perimeter to search, and bears would have trashed their camp by now. We searched the immediate area in all directions and found nothing. I’m not wasting resources going up there again.” She sighed. “I need boots on the ground here. I have a string of local complaints Walters had to place on the back burner while we trekked up the mountain and I need people checking out this couple’s movements. Why didn’t anyone file a missing persons’ report?”

  “It does seem strange as they were prominent people in their town.” Wolfe leaned nonchalantly against the bench. “Then there is the cellphone. I will look at that as soon as possible. I would be interested to find out who they called in the hours before their deaths. Allen must have been carrying it when she was killed, and there is reception up there—why didn’t she call 911?”

  “If she did, we’d have a record.” Jenna frowned. “This happened on my watch. There is no way a 911 call could slip past us.”

  “I’ll check the logs when we get back to the office.” Kane’s brow wrinkled into a deep frown as he peered at the woman’s remains. “The damage to the spine is a typical incapacitating shot used to keep a person immobilized for questioning.” He shot a glance at Wolfe. “The killer wanted her alive, didn’t he?”

  “As I said, I need some time to do a full report on our findings but, yes, that injury would be enough to paralyze a person. Then there is the belt we found tight around her arms. It doesn’t belong to her or her fiancé, they were both wearing belts. It must have belonged to the killer, and before you ask, there are no distinguishing marks on it.” Wolfe folded his arms across his substantial chest and sighed. “From what we can see, she suffered and was left for the animals to devour. The male victim was preserved for some reason.”

  “Which means the woman was tossed aside once the thrill of killing had past. This is typical psychopathic behavior.” Kane pushed a hand through his dark hair and his expression turned somber. “But this killer has another twist to his persona. I believe he likes to visit his victims, for whatever reason, and uses the gas to prevent animals from disturbing them. Watching them decompose is an added thrill.”

  17

  The morning had become one of those days and Jenna had started to believe she was in charge of the Keystone Cops. In fact, if Rowley had waddled by her door in black and white twirling a baton she would not have blinked an eye.

  In her absence attending to the cold case, the sheriff’s office had fallen into chaos. Fights had broken out all over town, including another ruckus at the Triple Z, and the phones had rung constantly with complaints. The hunting season was in full swing and it brought out a testosterone-fueled competitive spirit from the locals and a few of their guests.

  Normally, the rangers, or FWP as the locals called the Fish, Wildlife and Parks enforcement officers, took care of the hunting side of things. They kept everybody honest by running the mandatory checkpoints in and out of hunting areas to check licenses and kills, but some of the excitement had spilled into town now the elk and turkey season had crossed over.

  After dispatching her deputies to deal with the complaints, she had taken a well-earned cup of steaming joe into her office and shut the door. She had the task of following up the cold case information collected from Wolfe’s primary examination of the remains of Paige and Dawson. The names of both victims came up in the missing persons’ records for California. She made a note of the contact number and officer in charge of the case then reached for her phone. The connection rang a few times and a man’s voice answered.

  “Yeah.”

  “Detective Stokes?” Jenna glanced at the computer screen. “This is Sheriff Alton from Black Rock Falls, Montana. I have information on two of your missing persons: Paige Allen and Dawson Sanders.”

  “Just a minute, I’ll access the file.” Stokes tapped on his keyboard then sighed. “Okay, what do you have?”

  Jenna cleared her throat. “We found their remains on a trail in Stanton Forest way up the top of the Black Rock Mountain range. My medical examiner believes they have been here for about one year.”

  “We tried hunting them down in Colorado. Apparently, after their engagement party, they went on a mystery holiday Sanders arranged there. Their families told us they insisted on leaving their cellphones behind and took a burner for emergencies. As we couldn’t trace their phones, we had no leads to their whereabouts. What happened to them?”

  “I’m afraid we have a homicide.” The sightless sockets of the two skulls flitted across Jenna’s mind, sending a shiver down her back. “Both were subjected to considerable brutality. I can’t give you a full report yet. We have engaged a forensic anthropologist to work with our ME to determine cause of death.”

  “Do you have a positive ID on the victims?”

  “Yes, we have their drivers’ licenses and their
dental records.” Jenna chewed on her bottom lip. “Unfortunately, there is no doubt the victims are Dawson Sanders and Paige Allen.”

  “I see. Any suspects? Any similar crimes in the area?” He drew in a deep breath. “Just a minute, Black Rock Falls, yeah I’ve heard of that place. You caught the Riverside Killer, didn’t you?”

  Jenna drummed her fingers on the table. “Yeah and he’s in jail for life but he wasn’t responsible. The murderer of this couple has a different MO and as the crime happened one year ago, we don’t have any evidence to suggest he has killed in Black Rock Falls since. As he damaged Allen’s face, we are considering a crime of passion. What can you tell me about the couple? Is there a jealous lover in the picture?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. Give me a few moments to read the file. It’s been over a year.”

  Jenna sipped her coffee and waited.

  “Right. The first person to contact us was Bruce Styles. He is Sanders’ roommate. After six weeks, the rent was due and Styles hadn’t heard from him, which was out of character. Of course, we found zip. It was as if they had vanished into thin air. When Sanders’ parents returned from overseas about a week later, they contacted Paige Allen’s parents and filed the missing persons’ reports together.”

  Jenna listened with interest. A daughter goes missing for weeks and the parents do nothing? “What about the girl’s parents—what was their story?”

  “The Allens expected Paige to be gone for one month. They explained the couple had a cellphone ban and wanted to be alone. They thought they had extended their vacation.” He sighed. “I’m not sure how they ended up in Black Rock Falls. Sanders told them they were heading for Colorado.”

 

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