by D. K. Hood
Jenna stared at the images and her stomach rolled. The excited and very much alive girl she had met was now an exhibit of cruelty. “Could this have happened before we found her?”
“No.” Wolfe’s expression was serious. “There is nothing on her chart from the hospital, and the doctor’s initial examination was complete. She listed a scar on the scalp, so she would have hardly missed the substantial damage I found.” He passed another three photographs across the table. “The victim has burns on her knees consistent to being dragged over tiles; her calf is dirty on one side and her nightgown was bunched up with marks on the front. I believe the killer dragged her by her hair face down, likely unconscious.” He cleared his throat. “I spoke to the nurse on duty, who gave her a sedative at eight that night, not an injection, and yet she has a fresh and very ragged puncture wound in her forearm. More of a tear than an injection site. I believe she knew her killer, ran from him, and was caught, injected with something to knock her out cold, then dragged back to her bed. By the swelling and bleeding beneath the scalp, I would say death occurred a short time after her killer returned her to bed.” He met Jenna’s gaze and his cold expression remained unaffected. “If she had lingered more than a few minutes, the hematoma and swelling would have been significantly more pronounced.”
Although her stomach knotted into a tight ball, Jenna stared at the photographs in an effort to take a clinical approach. In death, Jane needed her help just as much as she had alive. “Anything else?”
“Yeah.” Wolfe’s lips turned down and his eyes flashed in anger. “She suffered prolonged torture. Her time as a sex slave to four men must have been brutal. Her right arm shows misaligned untreated fractures to the radius and ulna.” He pointed to his forearm. “She has cracked ribs and internal scarring.” His face darkened and he flipped over another image. “And this.”
Nausea rolled over Jenna as she stared at the scarring over the girl’s back. “The only people who would benefit from her death are the two remaining men in the pedophile ring. I figure they were worried she could identify them, but all we have to go on is a spider tattoo and a scar on one knee. In this town many of the hockey players or rodeo riders would have scars on their knees.”
“We searched high and low for a man with a spider tattoo and found no trace. The Black Widow biker club split up ten years ago. You would imagine if he worked at the hospital someone would notice it.” Rowley scratched his head, making his brown hair stick up in all directions. “Could the tattoo have been one he stuck on or something?”
“It’s a possibility. Doing something like that would throw us off his track.” Wolfe shrugged and glanced back at his open file. “Although everything Zoe told us has been correct: the appendicitis scar and the birthmark on Dorsey’s neck. She has amazing recall considering the stress she suffered.”
“Yes, but she wouldn’t likely spot the difference between a fake and a real tattoo.” Jenna chewed on her bottom lip. “Everything points to Jane’s killer being involved with the hospital. He managed to get inside after hours unseen and leave without a trace. We have cleared everyone who used the employees’ entrance bar the person who used the dead man’s swipe card. The employees’ entrance doesn’t have a CCTV camera, so we have no idea who used the dead man’s card.” She scanned her notes. “We have the drugs to consider. The pharmacist confirmed the bottles we found in Price’s truck and Dorsey’s cabin were from the hospital supplies. Our mystery killer works at the hospital, has access to drugs, and is likely a nurse. Yet, after extensive interviews, not one person on the damn staff knows a man with a spider tattoo and if it’s the other pedophile we don’t have a description.”
“We called everyone who works at the hospital.” Rowley’s eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t make sense. We went further as well—delivery services and even asked the mortician. This person is a phantom.”
Jenna shook her head. “Not a phantom, very clever. I think we have to examine every nurse at the hospital personally. One of the people you called could have lied, right? I know it will be tough going but we have no choice. I’m sure Jane’s killer is an associate of Price and Dorsey. Rowley, get the list of people working here divide it between you, Bradford, and Webber.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Two things.” Kane leaned his broad back into the chair, making it groan. “Rowley could be right, it could have been a stick-on tattoo: Many criminals use them to throw the law off their tail. And why didn’t he try to kill Zoe? If he works at the hospital as you say, he could have poisoned her food, for instance, and if he has access to drugs as we assume, he could have tampered with her meds.”
“She wasn’t medicated.” Wolfe flipped through his notes. “According to the doctor who treated her, he was happy to have her treated by the family’s GP in Helena. He wanted to wait for the blood tests to come back to make sure she wasn’t suffering from any STDs and did recommend a course of antibiotics for a chest infection.”
“Okay, so he didn’t try to kill her, but she had to be a threat, so if he is part of this circle of predators, why didn’t he try?”
“You have a point.” Jenna drummed her fingernails on the table. “Jane had a secure environment, or so we thought, and Walters was there checking everyone in and out during her stay. Maybe he didn’t get a chance to attack Zoe.”
“He couldn’t have gotten near her.” Kane stretched out his long legs and sighed. “Her parents never left her side. I doubt he would have had the opportunity to put anything in her meals. From what Walters said, her father purchased takeout for her most of the time.” He glanced at Wolfe. “Is there anything else we need to know about Zoe?”
Wolfe lifted his gray gaze. “Apart from malnourishment, she appeared to be quite stable and lucid considering her ordeal. I was able to view the doctor’s notes after the parents gave me permission.”
“What I’d like to know is how the vigilante killer became involved.” Rowley had been listening intently and looked at Jenna. “At first, I thought it might be a father of one of the missing girls, but they have alibis, so why did the vigilante give us the newspapers? What message is the killer sending us?”
Jenna smiled at Kane. “This is your field of expertise.”
“Sure.” Kane rubbed his large hands together as if on the brink of receiving a wad of cash. “I’m pretty certain our killer is a woman. She gave us a motive for her killing spree, maybe to make us back off because in her mind she is doing the right thing, like putting out the trash. She wants us to know how many kids are involved and the period of time the pedophile ring has been in operation. She is giving us clues to find them, not her.”
“So she figures you’ll go easy on her?” Webber flashed Jenna a white smile.
“She has murdered two men and it wasn’t in self-defense.” Jenna pressed both palms on the table. “She will be treated the same as anyone else we suspect is guilty of murder.”
“How do you think a jury would consider her crimes?” Bradford’s soft voice sounded strange amongst Jenna’s usual meeting of all-male deputies. “Do you think they’ll go easy on her?”
“I’m not here to worry about what a jury will think.” Jenna glared at her new deputy. “I know this case is conflicting; of course we all want these men brought to justice. Never forget our job is to bring them in and let the courts decide their punishment. I don’t want any of you thinking you can go easy on the vigilante killer. That may be the last mistake you ever make.”
“There is one thing for certain.” Rowley’s eyes scanned her face. “The vigilante knows who is involved in the pedophile ring.”
Jenna nodded in agreement. “She obviously found a link between the men we haven’t been able to discover. Apart from the two victims working at Party Time, their tiny ring of friends and associates came up clean. She has to be involved somehow, but all the girls we assume they kidnapped apart from Zoe and Jane are still missing. She can’t be a victim; we need to look elsewhere.” She sighed. “If we had t
he names of the other men in the pedophile group, we might be able to save the next person on her list, but I doubt anyone will admit to abusing children in exchange for our protection.”
Kane’s cellphone rang, disturbing her train of thought, and she stared at him. “Take that outside, will you please?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Kane stood, answering the call as he strolled through the doorway, then turned and held up one hand for silence. He walked back into the room wearing a concerned expression. “What do you want?” He placed the cellphone on the table and a distorted voice came out of the speaker.
“I gather by now you have figured out the missing girls in the newspapers are still missing?”
“We have. What is your interest in these cases?” Kane leaned over the table and his concerned gaze locked on Jenna.
“You should be looking up in the mountains.”
“I’m listening.”
“Head up to Craig’s Rock and you’ll need to check out Old Corkey’s place as well. It’s about five minutes away from there downhill.”
“Did you murder Amos Price and Ely Dorsey?”
The line went dead.
What the hell is going on here? Jenna swallowed hard. “Rowley, have you heard of Craig’s Rock or Old Corkey’s place?”
“Yes, ma’am, they are way up in the mountains. Not a place people visit because of the bears. It’s way off the hiking tracks; you won’t be able to drive up there. Ride maybe, but it will be a long hike off the main track along the falls.”
“Okay, get Webber and Bradford organized for the nurses’ interviews, I’ll need you with us. I’ll take the GPS and the satellite phone.” She shot a glance at Kane. “Will your friend Gloria be able to supply us with extra horses?”
“I can ask.” Kane picked up his cellphone and headed out the office.
“I have my own horse and trailer. If you can hire another horse from Gloria, make it a gelding and they will travel okay together,” Rowley called after him.
“Can you ride, Wolfe?”
“Sure.” He stood. “I’ll collect my gear.”
Jenna pushed to her feet. “I’ll call in Walters to hold the fort.” She tapped her bottom lip, took a deep breath, and looked at Rowley. “Soon as you have organized the interviews with the hospital, go and get your horse. We’ll meet you at Gloria’s.” She turned to Webber. “When you’re done at the hospital, remain in the office unless there is an emergency.” She grabbed her weapon and pocketed her cellphone then picked up the keys and dropped them into his hand. “If we aren’t back by five, lock up.”
“Sure thing, ma’am.”
Jenna strode out of her office and looked up at Kane. “It looks like you’re getting a ride in the forest after all.” She pushed her hair behind one ear. “Bring old Duke. He might be able to help.”
“Yeah. He’ll be an asset.” Kane’s expression was solemn. “This ride is not really what I had in mind. If the caller is the vigilante, she might be sending us off on a wild goose chase to get us out of town.”
Dread washed over her. “You mean so she can kill again?”
“Uh-huh. That’s exactly what I mean.”
45
Excited did not come close to how Chris Jenkins was feeling after speaking to Bobby-Joe. His shabby, run-down cabin with its squeaky front door and dripping taps did not appear quite so bad. He stepped onto the porch to gaze into the surrounding forest and wanted to shout out. It was a beautiful day after the rain. Perfect for meeting the girl. He grinned and went back inside. I am one lucky son of a bitch.
Having his friend close by would sure make things easier if he had any trouble getting her to his SUV. He laughed to himself. She would be his property, and the income she would provide from members of their special group would make his life more comfortable. He would not miss Ely and Amos; in fact, once Stu had gone to jail, they had insisted on kidnapping the girls and he ended up paying his dues just to get involved in the action. Now Chris would be calling the shots.
He figured his girl would be the first of many. If he had two in Bobby-Joe’s cage, he would be able to purchase a cabin higher up the mountain. Many of the older doer-uppers were for sale and some already had root cellars. If he had two or three girls in his own cellar, he would become a very rich man. He chuckled and strolled into the kitchen to prepare a bottle of soda. His girl had made a point of asking him to bring soda and bourbon. It was an unusual request but who was he to argue? And the alcohol would make the drugs work faster. Then she will be mine.
As he crushed the pills and added them to the drink, his mind filled with what he would need to take with him. He had anticipated meeting her for some time and wanted to have time alone with her before Bobby-Joe arrived. He frowned. He had no choice but to go along with his odd behavior. Without Bobby-Joe’s hidden cellar, he would not be able to keep his girl. He wondered what her name was and sighed. It did not matter anyway as Bobby-Joe’s rules did not allow anyone to call the girls by their names. He said it was too easy to slip up if the cops arrested them, and if they did not know their names, they would pass a polygraph.
He replaced the lid on the bottle and put it back in the refrigerator then headed for his bedroom. His heart pounded with anticipation of finally meeting her and he had to force his mind to focus on what he needed to take in his bag to the meeting. He already had cleaning materials in the SUV. After taking two girls to the small cabin, they could not risk leaving any evidence. The forest rangers usually went by to check them, and with two girls missing, if they left the place in a mess, the rangers would call the cops. He pulled on a pair of surgical gloves before tossing the box into his bag. He knew the drill by heart; everything he touched could leave a fingerprint. He tossed a couple of large towels, condoms, and a change of clothes into the backpack. A box of chocolates and his clown mask. He stood back and surveyed the room then picked up his camera and stuffed it in the bag. It was much safer than using his cellphone.
He turned and glanced at the clock and his stomach gave a squeeze. He had time to eat then he would head down the mountain to Black Rock Falls and take the back road into Stanton Forest. He wet his lips in anticipation of what was to come and grinned at his reflection in the mirror. I’m coming.
46
After stopping to rest the horses and have a bite to eat, Kane mounted his horse and adjusted his backpack. Duke had kept up with their slow pace and seemed to be having the time of his life. He was a great companion and had stuck to him like glue. I’m glad I kept him. When Duke returned to his side, he smiled at him. “Good boy.”
The picturesque ride up to Craig’s Rock would have been easier if they had gained access to a private road leading higher up the mountain, but the gate was locked and well signposted with “Keep the hell out” written in red. As Rowley insisted the mountain folk might shoot first and ask questions later, rather than cause a problem, they had taken the dangerous trail up beside the falls. Riding single file with a massive drop on one side of the rock-strewn pathway, the horses showed reluctance to move at times, but as the path reached closer to the summit, Kane enjoyed a spectacular view of the entire valley. Far below, the town seemed insubstantial against the miles of open ranges on one side and the massive pine forest on the other.
At the top of the trail, Kane noticed a group of eight or so cabins set in the woods, quite close together. He rode up to Rowley. “Are those the fishing cabins Mayor Rockford used to own when he lived here?”
“Yeah, he used to hire them out to tourists.” Rowley removed his hat and pushed his fingers through his damp hair. “You would be surprised how many people come here to spend weeks hiking through this forest in the summer. I guess they camp most times but then arrive here to spend a few days fishing before they make the trek home.” He pushed his hat back onto his head. “I gather the real estate office handles the bookings now.”
Kane surveyed the cabins then shrugged. “I guess but it’s one hell of a ride up here to fish. How much further is Cr
aig’s Rock?”
“A few minutes, if the GPS is correct.”
They took an animal track through the forest with Rowley out in front, using the GPS for navigation. It would be easy to become lost in the dense mass of pine trees; apart from up or down, every direction appeared the same. Without the sunlight spiking through the branches, the tall, unforgiving, rough trunks appeared sinister. Kane moved closer to Jenna and she turned and gave him an enquiring look. It was obvious by her virtual silence most of the way, her mind was back on Black Rock Falls and the vigilante.
“I need a word, Wolfe.” Jenna waited for him to catch up to her. “I guess there’s a remote possibility we’ll find a grave. I doubt we’ll find anyone alive up here. If so, we’ll need a forensic anthropologist. Do you know anyone?”
“I have a team on standby.” Wolfe nodded at her. “Don’t worry, I have everything covered. If we find anything, I’ll make an initial assessment—for instance, confirm the bones are human and what approximate age—then arrange to have the Helena team come up here tomorrow. We’ll need their expertise to discover how long the bones have been there; we might be looking at a burial, hundreds of years old.”