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

by D. K. Hood

  The bus pulled out in a cloud of dust and headed down the mountain road. Moments later a young couple dashed out of the forest waving their arms. They chased after the bus disappearing around a bend in the road. He stared after them. The woman was just his type, small with dark brown hair, longer than he usually preferred, but he could almost feel the silken strands running through his fingers. Her companion would be a challenge for him—strong and muscular—but the risk would be worth it. He climbed behind the wheel and drove out the parking lot.

  As he turned the corner, he almost ran over the couple, thumbs out, hitchhiking. He couldn’t believe his luck. On the way back to town, he would be able to get up close and personal with them, perhaps discover their plans. He pulled up beside them. “Heading into town?”

  “Yeah.” The young man in his twenties smiled. “We got a ride up here. We wanted to find out the best trails and start out fresh on Sunday morning then we missed the darn bus.”

  He pushed open the passenger door. “Jump in. I’m heading into town.”

  “Great. I’m Colter and this is my girl Lilly.” They slid into the front seat.

  He didn’t offer his name and bit back a groan as the heat of Lilly’s thigh soaked through his jeans. “Where are you staying?”

  “The Black Rock Falls Motel.” Colter smiled. “We had no idea this area would be packed with people. My idea of an idyllic Sunday hiking in the forest has melted like last year’s snow.”

  “There are many old trails to explore; the forest is endless. You just need to know where to find them.” He pulled out onto the road and headed for town. “I can give you directions to an old trail away from the hunting areas and I have a bunch of old maps in the glove compartment. I’ll give you one. I can guarantee you won’t be bothered by tourists.”

  “Yeah, but we are dependent on hitchhiking or the bus.” Colter sighed. “We can’t hike all the way from town, it would take all day. We only have Sunday—we have stuff to do tomorrow and we have to be back in Blackwater for work on Monday.”

  If he could convince them to explore a secluded spot of his choice, he would have all Saturday to set up his trail cams. Excitement surged through him and he forced his voice to remain calm and disinterested. “If I remember, the bus stops at the mouth of a trail to the waterfall around eight on a Sunday. If you get off there, you can hike across the face of the mountain. It drops down to a secluded trail that runs along the edge of the reservation. It’s worth the walk to see the rock pool. It will take you an hour or so to get there but you’ll be able to hike back in time to catch the afternoon bus back to town.”

  “Yeah, and the bus home doesn’t leave until late. We’ll have time for dinner before we head home.” Colter grinned. “Thanks, man.”

  “It sounds perfect.” Lilly glanced at him and her long, black lashes dropped to cover cornflower-blue eyes.

  He smiled at her, imagining her eyes filled with terror as she ran from him. Yes, you are perfect—I can’t wait.

  26

  Saturday

  It had been an exhausting week but then murder cases took priority over little things like eating and sleeping. Kane dropped into the chair in Jenna’s kitchen, grateful for the chance of a hot breakfast. Since the start of the investigation into Bailey Canavar’s murder and the mysterious John Doe, Jenna had the sheriff’s department working around the clock. He reached for the cup of hot coffee Jenna had set before him and smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Ham and eggs okay?” Jenna turned back to the stove. “Oh, and will toast do? I didn’t have time to make hotcakes this morning.”

  “I love toast.” He eyed her over the rim of his cup. “Are you coming into the office today, seeing as it’s your day off?”

  “Of course I am. Do you think I’d take personal time in the middle of a murder case?” She loaded up two plates and placed them on the table.

  Kane shrugged and stared at his plate for a few seconds then lifted his chin and looked at the dark circles under her eyes. “I wish I could convince you to grab a couple of hours as we are in a lull at the moment. Until we have more information we have nothing to investigate.” He forked eggs into his mouth and chewed.

  “That lull could change in a second.” Jenna’s forehead creased into a deep frown.

  He ate slowly, watching her expressions change, then put down his fork. She thought of everyone else’s welfare but not her own. Kane cleared his throat. “When we have the autopsy report, we may have more information. Someone will report John Doe as missing and if he is not local, we’ll be able to look into why he was in Black Rock Falls.” He sipped his coffee, enjoying the rich brew spilling over his tongue. “Jim Canavar hasn’t been seen and we have had the hunters, hikers, and rangers on the lookout for him in case he is lying injured somewhere in the forest. The problem is, if he is bundled up in camo hunting gear he’ll blend in like the hundreds of other men in town for the hunting season.”

  “Blackhawk took a few trackers out with him as well but after searching until dark yesterday they found no trace of him. Wherever Canavar is, he isn’t injured or Blackhawk would have found a blood trail. I think he got clean away or has plenty of cash with him and is holed up somewhere.” She gave him a long look and stifled a yawn. “Blackhawk called me just before you arrived, said he would expand the search this morning, but if Canavar used the more popular trails, tracking him would be difficult.”

  Kane’s cellphone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. “I’d better take this, I’m the 911 contact this weekend.” He accepted the call and put his phone on speaker. “Deputy Kane, what is your emergency?”

  “This is not an emergency. This is Joe from Avis at the airport. You asked me to inform you when Mr. Canavar returned his vehicle?”

  “Yeah, when did he arrive?”

  “Well, that’s the strange thing. We found his car out front. He left it with the keys inside. He has six more days paid up on his rental as well.”

  Kane flicked a glance at Jenna. “Don’t touch the vehicle, leave it where it is, it could have been used in a crime.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Deputy, I didn’t know. I had it steam-cleaned inside and washed. It went out about ten minutes ago with another client.”

  “Were there any personal possessions inside?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, thank you for letting me know.” He disconnected and looked at Jenna. “Well, I guess we can check the airport and see if he took a flight.”

  “I’ve had the airport on alert since we found him missing.” Jenna lifted her cup. “The security there would have picked him up if he tried to board a flight. He must be in the area or he got a ride with an accomplice.”

  “With an all-points bulletin out on him and state-wide media splashing his picture all over the news, someone will see him.” Kane finished his coffee. “I hope.”

  She sat at the table and refilled their cups. “Right now, we have Canavar as our main suspect, but for all we know, he had a domestic with Bailey and she took off with John Doe. We have no blood evidence, in fact nothing to prove Jim Canavar was even on scene. He could have hitched a ride with anyone leaving the area. We have people coming and going all the time and he could be anywhere between here and Kansas by now. The timing bothers me as well. It’s been one year since the cold case murders. Is it a coincidence or the same killer? I figure we need to expand our search for possible suspects.”

  Kane nodded in agreement. “So do I.”

  “Do you have a profile on the killer?” Jenna spooned sugar into her cup and stirred. “If we consider the same person is responsible for both the cold case and the two recent victims?”

  Kane poured cream into his coffee. “Yeah, as I said before, I figure the male victims were collateral damage. He murdered Dawson without mutilating him. He was likely paralyzed when he was tied him to a tree. Maybe he made him watch while he mutilated Paige. The killer centers his attention on the female. He wants to inflict as much damage on her as possible
.”

  “I don’t call what happened to the John Doe an easy death.”

  Kane lifted his cup and sipped. “It was, if everything inflicted on him was post mortem and done to conceal his identity. The killer wouldn’t have taken much enjoyment out of his murder.” He placed his cup on the table and looked at her. “His thrill comes from the suffering he inflicts on his female victims. I’d say we’re looking for a male, mid-twenties to late thirties, has a history of unstable relationships with women. I would say from the use of trail cams and the types of weapons, this person is a hunter and likely has an arsenal of weapons. From what I have seen from the injuries, he places his shots for a reason, likely not to kill but to disable. That takes a certain amount of skill, so perhaps ex-army or similar.”

  “What keeps nagging at me is the fact Bailey Canavar and Paige Allen, the cold case victim, are similar in appearance.” Jenna leaned on the table. “They are about the same height and build and have dark hair.”

  “Yeah and they have blue eyes as well.” He shrugged. “I have two possibilities; one hinges on the type of women he is killing. The viciousness of the murder would make me believe he is taking revenge against a woman who jilted him or humiliated him in some way. Perhaps as a young man, one of them told him he was a lousy lover or embarrassed him in front of his friends.” He sipped his coffee and sighed. “The majority of people would get over something like that but that type of incident could trigger a psychopath. I would say he is a player, good-looking or charismatic, and used to having women fall at his feet.”

  “You mean like Ted Bundy?”

  A shiver went up Kane’s spine. That would be the last type of psychopath he needed running loose in Black Rock Falls. “Yeah, and if it is, we are in big trouble. This type blends into society as a nice guy and some are married with kids. For some unknown reason, they don’t kill their close friends even though they might fit the profile of an ideal victim. They are unpredictable because they are prepared to wait for a potential victim but they do escalate if the type of victims they prefer are plentiful. Remember Bundy pretended he had an injured arm to get women to help him load his groceries or whatever then bundled them into his car. The next thing he went ballistic and broke into a college and killed random women.”

  “Okay, so we can assume the victims would be the same type of person: age, hair, and so on.” Jenna rubbed her temples. “Do we have another possibility?”

  “Yeah.” Kane stretched out his legs and leaned back in his chair. “Or we have a man with financial troubles, a Casanova type who is in the relationship for the cash.” He leaned back in his chair. “This would fit Jim for Bailey’s murder but not for Paige Allen and Dawson Sanders. My money is on the first type.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to pull up any cases of violence against women.” Jenna leaned back in her chair. “See what you can dig up.”

  Kane finished his coffee and stood, collected the dishes, and carried them to the bench. “Okay.”

  “Leave the plates. I’ll put them in the dishwasher later.” Jenna’s cellphone blasted out a heavy metal ringtone and she picked it up. “Sheriff Alton.” She held up one finger to him. “Hold for one second, Detective Brennan, Deputy Kane is here, I’ll put you on speaker. Okay, go ahead.”

  “We’ve had officers at the airport, no sign of Jim Canavar. His credit cards haven’t been used since he arrived in Black Rock Falls but he did withdraw a substantial amount of cash before he left. As far as we know nobody has heard from him.”

  “No sign of him here either.” Jenna’s dark lashes covered her expression. “Have you interviewed any of his associates?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t get too much information from his friends but Bailey’s were a fountain of information. The consensus is Jim was a player with other women on the side. They warned Bailey he was after her money and she still refused to sign a prenup. She is insured as well, so he gains millions on her death.” Brennan tapped on her keyboard. “I dug a bit deeper and looked into his finances. He received a huge bonus from her father’s company the day they married and I found his current booty call. It was quite a surprise. The booty call is one of three women he meets in a bondage club for group sessions. Apparently, Bailey wasn’t aware of his fetish; he planned to ease her into the idea after the honeymoon.”

  Kane cleared his throat and glanced at Jenna. “Detective Brennan, this is Deputy Kane. Did they mention if he was dominant or submissive?”

  “I had the same question for them. He was dominant and they mentioned bondage and whips. That is all I have for now. I’ll keep digging.”

  “Okay.” Jenna pushed a strand of dark hair behind one ear and met Kane’s gaze. “Thanks for letting us know.” She disconnected and sighed. “Now what?”

  Kane rubbed his chin, thinking over the implications. That twist did not fit into his profile. “I may be wrong but I think we need to be looking for him closer to home.”

  27

  The crisp morning battered against the metal plate in Kane’s head, bringing the now familiar throb of an oncoming headache. He had hoped that by winter, he might be over the torture endured from the bitter cold, but the cool morning had proved otherwise. After exchanging his cowboy hat for a thick-lined woolen cap complete with sheriff’s department badge, he headed for the office.

  The ride into town was like moving through a picture postcard. The wide-open landscape and pine forests climbing endlessly up the mountainside displayed every color on an artist’s palette. He had to admit fall in Black Rock Falls was uniquely picturesque. His past life living in Washington, DC, had drifted into a memory and he enjoyed a comfortable connection to Black Rock Falls and its townsfolk. He had a warm feeling of belonging.

  A familiar waft of honeysuckle perfume drifted on the air as he strode into the office. He gave Maggie a wave as he passed her at the front counter and headed for his desk. He was about to put Rowley to work searching for local cases of violence against women when his cellphone vibrated in his pocket. He slid it out and glanced at the caller ID. “Morning, Shane, what’s up?”

  “I called Jenna and she is busy chasing down some leads.” Wolfe cleared his throat. “Could you drop by my office this morning? We have completed the autopsies on the latest victims. I’ll write up a report of my findings later but it will be extensive and it would be quicker to show you what we’ve found.”

  Kane stared at his computer screen. “Sure, when?”

  “Ah… as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll be there in five.” He disconnected and headed for Rowley’s cubicle.

  He noticed Rowley scrolling through Bailey Canavar’s Facebook page and smiled. One thing for sure, Rowley could work alone when it came to investigations. He was an asset to the team and thought outside the box. “Find anything useful?”

  “Not really, just the usual.” Rowley leaned back in his chair. “I was checking out her friends, seeing who she friended recently, then looking at the cold case victims and seeing if any of them match.”

  Impressed, Kane smiled at him. “Looking for a stalker?”

  “It’s all I could think of—we haven’t had any viable calls coming in about Jim Canavar as you figured his description could fit most of the men in town at this time of the year. It’s as if he vanished into thin air.”

  Kane nodded. “Nothing from his hometown either, we heard from the detective working the case this morning. I’m heading over to the morgue to get the preliminary autopsy reports. Get onto the main database and track down any violence against women reports in the last couple of years. It’s a long shot but we need to know if any of these people knew each other.” He glanced around the too quiet office. “The sheriff is chasing down some leads but she’ll be in soon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  The sight of Wolfe’s teenage daughter, Emily, sitting at the front counter surprised him although he was aware her studies in forensic science often brought her to the morgue. She was sitting beside Webber, and
they were so engrossed in whatever they were doing, they did not hear him enter the building. After Wolfe had made a point of not wanting Emily involved with Webber, he slapped a hand on the desk. The sound cracked like a whip. “Morning.”

  Deputy Webber shot to his feet as if launched from a cannon. “Sir?”

  “Deputy Kane.” Emily gave him a brilliant smile. “Dad is waiting for you. I’ve been explaining the new filing system to Cole.”

  Kane gave Webber a long stare then cleared his throat. “So I see.”

  “Oh, the latest homicide is incredibly interesting.” Emily stood and led the way to the morgue. “Dad has been working all hours to get it finished; he even allowed me to assist, along with Cole of course.”

  The idea that she found dismembered bodies “incredibly interesting” amused him in a macabre way. He couldn’t help grinning at her. “I thought you might. You sure are your daddy’s daughter.” He shortened his step to keep pace beside her as they walked down the hallway. “I don’t think you’ll have trouble in medical school.”

  “I’m studying forensic pathology. I could have studied to become a medical doctor but curing people is not what I have in mind. I want to discover what killed them.” She sighed and shook her head. “It depends on what state you live in as to what qualifications you require; some coroners are medical doctors but some can be the local undertaker. I’m studying forensic pathology because it’s the most useful, in my opinion, and of course the laws pertaining to homicide.” She glanced up at him. “Do you think I’m weird?”

  Kane swallowed his chuckle and shook his head. “Not at all. You know what you want in life and that is a good thing. Your dad is a genius. He never stops studying one subject or another and you’re going to be the same.”