Of Blood and Water: Campground Murders (Virgil McLendon Thrillers Book 1)

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Of Blood and Water: Campground Murders (Virgil McLendon Thrillers Book 1) Page 12

by catt dahman


  “Jesus, God, and Mary, have mercy,” Virgil took a step backwards in horror when he got a good look at the damage.

  Harry took a hitching breath.

  “Cause of death?” Virgil asked in a whisper.

  “After the torture, she was, ummm, she was stabbed in the chest. I am betting it was a stab to her heart that did it. She was stabbed after the other damage.”

  Vivian sat down on a rock and cried silently as she wrote notes. Her handwriting was spidery with emotion. Nick sat beside her on his haunches with his face in his hands and cried. Vivian blew and wiped her nose.

  Virgil wiped his eyes and asked, “Viv, you taking notes?”

  “I haven’t missed one word yet.”

  “Third girl is named Lisa.” This one was on her back as well, posed the same, but one leg was so far spread that it had popped free of the socket. She, too, had been raped, and semen was present. Stab wounds were the apparent cause of death.

  Harry reported all that and added, “But I may find more as you know.”

  Lying to the side were Lisa’s pajama bottoms and panties, as well as all of Mary’s nightclothes except for panties.

  “Where are her panties? Did she not sleep in them? Nick, I want you to ask the counselors and the girl who was left alive and her parents if you have to, but find out if she had on panties. If she did, I want them found. I want to know where they are,” Virgil ordered.

  “Ummm.”

  “Nick! I need your help here. I need to know about her panties right away. I know that’s a personal thing and odd, but if the killer took them, I need to know that.”

  “Right. Okay, Virgil. I mean, Sheriff.”

  “Vivian, I want notes about the middle girl Mary. I want to know why she is nude and the other two aren’t. I want to know why she alone was raped with foreign objects. I want to know why she was bludgeoned and the other two were cut or stabbed. I want to know why her death was the most brutal, and I want to know why she was different.”

  “Okay.”

  “Harry, same for you. When you examine the girls, I wanna know everything that’s different.”

  Vivian took notes. Virgil, who was usually quiet and mild, surprised her again and became aggressive as a pit bull about certain elements that most wouldn’t have noticed: the differences in treatment of the victims, panties, and flashlights.

  In the discarded pile of items were three pieces of a pillowcase, probably used as three gags. The pillow was thrown in with the pine needles and dirt. Virgil said he wanted to know why the girls had two pillows and to whom they belonged. Which girl was without a pillow?

  When Kurt came up, Virgil ordered him to search for any evidence and then release the bodies. He wanted extra pictures taken as well.

  “Let’s go, Viv. I need to walk and talk.”

  Down the trail, Virgil sat down with the girl who had first found the dead girls. He introduced himself and explained how he needed her help by answering a few questions and how sorry he was she was involved in such a sad situation. Someone gave them cups of hot bitter coffee that tasted wonderful. “Linda, can you tell me exactly what you heard and saw as you found the girls?”

  The counselor wiped her face but still shook. She was in mild shock, but other than hot coffee and a blanket, there was nothing that could be done for Linda, but Virgil still needed answers.

  Linda took a deep breath and said, “I was going to the bathroom, and there they were. I could see they were…yanno, and I just turned and ran.”

  Virgil tried a new tactic that Harding always laughed about. “I want you to pretend that you have just come upon the victims. What do you have on? Tell me everything you see, hear, smell, everything. Close your eyes.”

  Linda frowned but did as he asked, “I have on pajamas and flip flops, and it’s chilly this morning, but I need to pee. Ummm. It’s quiet.”

  “Is it always quiet when you go up there? Do you go the same way and do the same thing every morning?”

  “Yes. I go every morning, and no, it’s not quiet. I always listen to the birds. They’re noisy in the mornings as if they have just awakened and are looking for food; they are always chirping and fluttering through the trees, and the little ones jump around on the ground and on the leaves.”

  “This morning, though, it was quiet?”

  “Very quiet. I noticed that, I think, right before I saw anything. I looked up in the trees to see if maybe there was a storm brewing. I didn’t see any squirrels either.”

  “Do you normally see them?”

  Harry cleared his throat, “Virgil?”

  Virgil motioned him to go about his own business, “Do you normally see squirrels, Linda?”

  “Yeah. I smell wood smoke. There’s kind of a bad smell, too. Not strong, but it’s there right as I see them. I see Delane first, and I blink a few times, not sure what I am really seeing, but then I see Mary and Lisa; they’re posed like broken, bloody dolls.”

  “You are about to run. Do you scream or cry out? What do you hear or see?”

  “I don’t scream. I feel it in my chest as if I want to. And I want to run over to the girls and check them, but I don’t. I don’t make a sound.”

  “Why?” Virgil asked.

  “I don’t want them to hear me. I want to be invisible and run away before they catch me.”

  “Who are they? Do you see someone?” Virgil probed.

  Linda frowned again, “No, I don’t see anyone. There’s a sound, leaves rustling maybe. My hair is standing on end, I have goose bumps over my goose bumps, and I can feel the scream coming up. I wanna vomit, but there’s this other screaming in my head to run, run now! I can’t think past that. It was all in my head to run, and I turned and almost fell. My legs were like water, but I ran as fast as I could. When I saw people in my camp, I screamed and screamed.”

  “Some of the others came up together and checked and confirmed the deaths,” Nick reported.

  Vivian saw the cogs turning in Virgil’s head, and she was amazed at his thinking process. “Linda, where did you hear the rustling?” It was the first time she asked a question.

  “To the left of the trail if you are going up and are almost to the X. There are rocks way over there,” Linda said, “but I’m not sure I heard anything.”

  Janice, who had been hovering, checked Linda’s pulse again and looked into her eyes. “Are you finished, Virgil? I think we need to get her to the hospital. Quickly.” Her eyes met his.

  “Of course. Thank you, Linda. Janice?”

  “Shock and severe anxiety. She needs to be admitted at once.”

  Virgil asked her to handle that, and within minutes, there was a stretcher, and Linda was taken away. Her eyes had gone blank, and Janice looked worried. He had barely gotten his information and wondered if the girl would recover her senses or forever be traumatized.

  They went back to the crime scene. If Linda couldn’t talk to him, then the crime scene had to.

  Virgil unsnapped his holster and withdrew his sidearm, and to his shock, Vivian pulled a revolver from her back.

  “Yes,” she said, “I am registered, and you need back up. I’m inexperienced, but I can do it.” Her green eyes were sharp and focused.

  He could ask Nick for backup since Nick was looking at them questioningly, but Virgil figured if he needed help, Vivian was more than capable and certainly was sure of herself. He nodded. He didn’t think the killer was still there watching police work, but if he struck again and if Virgil’s new theory was right, then the killer would, indeed, watch the police work.

  Slowly, they walked over to the area that Linda had mentioned. Adrenaline pumped full force as Virgil came around the rocks, but no one was there. He motioned Vivian to circle with him as they secured the area.

  Virgil noticed some of the leaves and pine needles were flattened and others were scattered. He felt of them, but they weren’t warm. He was relieved, really. The last thing he wished to do was to put Vivian in danger because---because he like
d her. He liked her a lot. It was an odd time to realize it, but he knew he felt a lot for the new girl in town who was a part of his life in an unexpected way.

  “Why are you ginning in that goofy way?” asked Vivian in a whisper.

  He chuckled, relieving stress. “Just because. You’re here, and I’m glad, and you’re an amazing person.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” He said as he scanned the ground and watched as Vivian pointed out a gum wrapper and a wad of gum. An empty bottle of rum was propped up on a rock. Several cigarette butts were nestled next to another rock. In the bottle of rum was the tip of a cigar, and in another nook were more cigarette butts.

  Virgil sat down unexpectedly.

  “What is wrong with you? Do you need help?” Vivian had no idea what was up. He was grinning at her with the goofiest look on his face.

  Then, he looked serious, but next, he sat down and grinned again, but it wasn’t a happy grin, but one of self-satisfaction and disgust. It was peculiar.

  “Viv,” he said as he made a motion as if he were writing, “take notes carefully. Number one guy smoked over there and put the butts out. He likes this brand. He smokes fewer, but he smokes all the way down to the filter. Number two guy: here, a guy drank rum straight and smoked a cigar, savoring his kill and relaxing as they watched a counselor come up and find the kill. He broke twigs in his fingers, nervous energy. They loved the control and shock.”

  “Oh,” Vivian said as she sat down as well, listening.

  “Kids playing at killing. They like screwing with authority. They get off on scaring people and upsetting them. And after raping those little girls, they smoked and relaxed as if they had just had great sex and were satiated.”

  “Dear, God, Virgil.”

  “But it gets better: a third man was there, and he smoked a different brand of cigarettes. He chewed a little on the ends, too. But here is the best part: the gum and a young person. When the gum lost its flavor, it was time to spit it out and replace it. What do people do? They unwrap a piece, put the foil part to their lips, and politely spit the gum into it, and then wrap it and stuff the new stick of gum in their mouths.”

  “Right. And?”

  “Lipstick.”

  “Huh? You’ve lost me again.”

  Virgil shrugged, “There’s lipstick on the foil. The fourth person is a female. She spat the gum out. Two girls were raped, and one was sexually abused with the sticks because she doesn’t have a penis, Viv.”

  Vivian tilted her head, beginning to catch on.

  “She wanted to be a part, so she used objects since she couldn’t rape normally. It made her angry, and she beat that little girl. I bet she was a pretty child, and she was beaten badly to erase that beauty. One, two, three, and four. Do you see it, Viv?”

  “It’s a cult? A gang? There are four? My, God.”

  “They didn’t think we’d find this spot,” Virgil tapped his temple, “but I found it through Linda. We are a step ahead. Now we know there are four, and one is a female. Now we know.”

  “This is fantastic, Virgil. This is great.”

  “Yeah, it would be, except three more are dead, and we have a child missing. This gang is escalating; they are getting bolder and more brutal. We have to hurry or more are going to be killed.”

  Using his radio, Virgil called everyone for a meeting and summarized everything he had learned; Vivian added details from her notes. He gave specific orders, and although he didn’t have the manpower he needed, it was a start.

  It took all day to process the information and half the night to log in all the evidence, but the piles of papers on Virgil’s desk grew taller. The press was told that the sheriff’s department was looking for at least two men in the company of a female, all who were young, smoked, and very dangerous. Jillian Berger was listed as missing, and rumor was that the female scouts had been stabbed and assaulted, but no real details of the manners of death or the rapes were included.

  Virgil ordered the campground to be emptied at once.

  “Viv, take that board, and draw me the campground where each attack occurred, bodies were found, and the cigarettes were…everything.

  Tina, I want a picture of each child in the order of death, with names and ages. I want the evidence sorted by the rest of you. What was alike, what was different?

  Joe and Janice, I want you to look at old cases, and make a list of names of children who went missing, along with ages and dates. Find a town map, and use pins to designate all of those cases. I’ll be back later.”

  He was tapping and wiggling his fingers again.

  He visited Sheriff Harding in the hospital. “Mrs. Harding, how is he?”

  “Not well, Virgil. He still can’t say a word or move his arms or fingers, and he’s not breathing alone. He’s not getting any better at all.”

  “Can I help? I wanted to sit with him and talk in case he can hear me.”

  “I wanted to go home, do laundry, and get fresh clothes. Can you sit with him a while?”

  Virgil nodded and said, “It would be my pleasure.”

  He sat for hours, telling his mentor about everything, and while there was no response, Harding watched Virgil.

  In fact, Virgil saw Harding’s eyes widen during certain parts of the conversation, but he also saw the winces and frowns. Virgil thought maybe the man could hear and understand although the doctor treating him said he didn’t know if Harding were aware of anything.

  “You’re getting every word I say, aren’t you? And you are thinking hard and wishing you could talk. Listening will help though. I needed to see you.”

  “I did it, Sheriff; I used my weird way to figure this out, and I know what kind of people we’re looking for, but they aren’t around that I have found yet. I am looking for a gang of four. I can’t find them. How do I locate these people? Why haven’t we found Jillian like we found the rest? How do I stop them before they kill again?”

  Harding just blinked.

  He told Harding about the boy whom they thought had drowned but really had been shot.

  He talked about the flashlights.

  “I’m missing something, right? You know what I am missing and how to find them. I wish you could tell me. You know why we haven’t found Jillian, don’t you? Give me something, Harding. A clue. A wink. Tell me. Why can’t we find Jillian’s body?” Harding blinked an eye.

  Virgil frowned and said, “It’s because she isn’t dead yet. They only allow us to find the dead. If I could get to her in time….”

  Harding winked again.

  Virgil sighed and asked, “Can I find her in time?”

  Harding closed both eyes for a bit.

  “You don’t think I can, do you?

  They take souvenirs. They took that girl’s panties, and I went back and found that they had taken a little necklace that one of the boys had worn, and with the other one, they must have kept a finger because we couldn’t find it. One of the girls was missing a pierced earring, and another was missing a stuffed toy.

  The first one, the one who was shot: nothing was taken from him, but I feel that he is a part of this, but why was nothing taken as a souvenir? That’s a clue, isn’t it?”

  Harding blinked one eye.

  “I finally proved my theories. I did it. You would laugh, but you’d be glad. You’re proud, aren’t you? I think so. Making up what I call profiles does help. I knew what to look for, and I found things. It’s so close I can almost touch the answers, but what am I missing?”

  Harding grimaced, and Virgil felt the man was trying to say something or communicate something. To hell with the damned doctors, Harding was aware.

  “Tell me what to do, Damnit. I need help. I need you,” Virgil said as he lowered his head and let the tears stream a while. When he was empty, he wiped his face and sighed, “Please help me.”

  Sweat broke out on Harding’s face, and his eyes narrowed, and then, of all things, he dramatically rolled his eyes and then relaxed, exh
austed with the effort that took.

  Virgil wondered why, of all things when he was asking for help, his boss took all that effort to roll his eyes. “You always did that when I went on and on, and you’d chastise me and tell me that it took legwork to work a case and....”

  Harding blinked hard, using the last of his strength.

  “Legwork? I need to walk and talk? Is that is, Sheriff?”

  “What in the hell are you doing to my patient?” the doctor angrily asked as he whisked in, checking vitals. “He’s over wrought. His blood pressure is sky high, and his heart is pounding. Are you trying to kill him?”

  Virgil stood, “No, Sir. I’m trying to save some people. Thanks, Sheriff.”

  Chapter Nine: Born to Kill

  Many of the people from the campground drove away after leaving their information with the sheriff’s office, but nothing was useful anyway. Some had traveled too far and for too long and were exhausted, or they refused to be run-off from town. The few motels and rooming houses and the two bed-and-breakfast inns filled up.

  The only movie theatre in town showed a double feature, part one and two, about some stupid pirates that plunder everything after being mysteriously transported to modern times. Some big named actors starred in them, but the movie was a little silly for adults, a little intense for the children, and too tame for the teens and young adults. The theatre was a packed house because everyone loved the shows.

  Out-of-towners and locals both filled the theatre.

  Virgil asked Vivian to walk with him, “I always walk over and make sure the kids don’t throw trash in the street or fight and that everyone heads home or to the diner in an orderly way. Small town stuff.”

  “Normal is kind of nice,” Vivian said.

  “You think you might stay long enough for us to solve this and then maybe see a movie with me? I mean I know I’m a little older….” He had started out just fine, but now he felt nervous. He wasn’t sure what he was saying, but he did want to see Vivian more.

  “Virgil, if you’re asking me for a date, then the answer is yes,” she said as she gently laughed in a way that made him feel better.

 

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