“The key to animals is understanding them.” She made a face. “We human beings are animals, too, and a bit more complex. But people, like animals, respond better to kindness than whips and chains. Okay, you’ve sold me. Let’s go see this horse.”
Three
Andrew Osceola was still in uniform when they arrived at his house.
Raina had always felt that as a Miamian, she had appreciated the Everglades and knew something about the “great river of grass”—at least in her area, since it stretched north in the center of the state for over two hundred miles.
But she had no idea where she was. Some of the land was tribal, and some of it was part of Everglades National Park.
She assumed they were on tribal lands. Axel told her they weren’t as remote as she thought when they arrived along a grit-and-stone drive to a house in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. But Axel pointed her to another trail and told her that it led to one of the Miccosukee communities, not so far away, not even a mile.
A mile through the swampy Glades seemed like a fair distance to her!
But Andrew Osceola had a freshly painted and sprawling single-story house with a large tiled front porch and a path leading to the front door along with a large barn on his property.
It seemed very isolated to her.
“Honestly, it’s not as isolated as it looks. His whole family is in the general area. Super people, but I think he needed a little space. And he has his horses.”
“Ah,” she said. Maybe Axel was a mind reader. They headed up the tiled path to the house. Andrew opened the door as they reached it.
“I was hoping you were coming,” he told them.
Raina smiled weakly, accepting the hand he stretched out to her. She assumed he and Axel were about the same age. Like Axel, he was tall and fit. His handshake was firm. His cropped hair allowed for a short fringe of black to fall over his forehead and his eyes were dark brown. He was a handsome man, with a quick smile of sincere welcome.
“I can’t believe he got you out here. But if I remember right, you came on some of the camping trips years ago, right?”
“I did,” she said. “And with all the kids, I’m surprised you remember.”
“You were interested in everything as I recall. Not everyone is, I get it. I was a kid, too. Sometimes that kind of trip is just a really cool getaway. And let’s face it—half the kids would rather be at Disney World.”
“I love it out here. Well, I wouldn’t want to be in the middle of the Glades alone or anything, but the birds are beautiful and it’s so close to the big city—and so far away.”
“I love it, too. Come in!”
Raina didn’t know what she was expecting as they stepped inside, but Andrew’s house was a warm and contemporary home, filled with intriguing Native American art. She paused, studying a figurine.
“That’s Sitting Bull. Done by a friend of mine.”
“A Miccosukee?”
“No.” Andrew grinned. “Not a Sioux, either. It was crafted by an amazing Cheyenne woman who comes to a lot of our festivals. She’s brilliant. I have one she did of Osceola, too. The Osceola, I mean...my name is Osceola.”
“Osceola is your name?”
“Yes, tribal name. And—in this world of social security and medical insurance—surname!”
“A great name. As Osceola was evidently a great man.”
“Captured under a flag of truce.”
“I know.”
“Of course you do!” Andrew said.
Axel cleared his throat. “Andrew, anything?”
“I was hoping you had something. But let’s head to the office.”
Raina followed the men through the living room with its comfortable sofas, chair, sculptures and artwork, through the dining room, kitchen and out to a family room with a faux fur rug on the floor, another hearth and a large desk and stacks of papers, neatly aligned.
There were comfortable leather chairs facing the desk and one behind it. Andrew took his seat, handing a stack of papers to Axel. “I’m sure you have copies of all these. You are probably ahead of me on studying what info we’ve got. Can’t find a relationship between the victims. If someone was studying victimology, they’d be going nuts. Between the two we know of, nothing is alike. The killings are like execution-style with a knife, but—” he paused and looked at Raina “—what have you got?”
She looked at Axel apprehensively. How many people would believe this craziness?
He inclined a brow in her direction, silently asking if it was okay if he spoke for her.
She lowered her head in agreement. He was welcome to run with it.
“I think these are executions—or murders for convenience. I don’t think we have a serial killer on our hands, but rather someone—or someones—with a clear agenda regarding people who need to be disposed of. Maybe this person started out with just one murder and then realized that killing people and dumping them in the Everglades worked. Nature is brutal on evidence. After a body has been out here for any length of time, the elements and creatures—not just our big, scary predators, but those tiny little bastards, bugs—take their toll. Raina saw our victim. She was in the back seat of a car. She was scared, but still hopeful. A burlap or canvas bag or something was over her head. She didn’t know where she was going. She wasn’t assaulted, she wasn’t tortured—she was swiftly dispatched.” He looked at Raina. “With a straight razor, we believe.”
Andrew looked at him, nodding slowly. “Not a crazed serial killer, but a serial killer nonetheless. Someone who has discovered they can get rid of certain problems by getting rid of people.”
“That’s what I’m seeing with all this,” Axel said.
“Hmm,” Andrew said. “You haven’t talked to Nigel yet, eh?”
“No, nor my offices. Figured after the hours you’d worked, we could find you here.”
“We need to work on this,” Andrew said.
He didn’t seem to doubt anything that had been said, but it also seemed to Raina that he wanted to speak with Axel alone.
“A little off subject, but I hear you have a horse,” she said.
He brightened, looking at her, and then frowned. “He’s a bit of a wild thing. Did you want to go riding? I have an old quarter horse, too. Jacob. He’s the sweetest thing in the world. And if you stay on the path between here and the village, you should be fine. Our resident gator, Big Ole Mac, isn’t here—he has his home over at the visitor’s village. But of course, you know not to pull an alligator’s tail—”
“Trust me. I know not to pull an alligator’s tail.”
“And to watch out for—”
“Poisonous snakes—rattler, pygmy rattler, coral snake, Eastern diamondback, cottonmouth and southern cottonhead,” Raina said. “And the new constrictors like pythons and boas. We’re on a hardwood hammock between here and there, I imagine?”
He nodded, smiling.
“It isn’t safe,” Axel warned. “If you’re going to ride around, you should be in the company of someone who knows the area well.”
“I’ll bet you ride well!” Andrew said.
“I’m okay. You won’t see me at any rodeos,” Raina said.
Andrew grinned.
“It’s not safe, especially since we don’t know what’s going on around here,” Axel said.
“I’ll probably just meet the horses. Not to worry,” Raina said.
She let out a breath of relief as she turned and fled, not really so sure she’d be fine if she ran across any of the creatures mentioned, but suddenly needing to be away. Both men seemed to believe in her.
Any sane person would think she was crazy.
Her footsteps carried her out of the house. She paused, suddenly envisioning a horror scene in which she encountered a half dozen alligators and a slew of poisonous snakes and constrictors
awaiting her.
There wasn’t a thing in the yard. She didn’t even hear the buzz of a mosquito.
With a sigh she headed out to the giant barn, which surely housed the horses.
It did.
The barn offered a clean-swept floor and a tack-room office that was neat and clean, as well. There were stalls for several horses, but Andrew kept only two—the quarter horse, Jacob, and the mustang, Wild Thing. Each had a handsomely carved plaque on their door, announcing them.
“Hi, guys!” she said.
Both moved to greet her curiously, noses and necks sticking out over their stable doors.
She stroked both first, talking to them, just continuing conversation so they would become accustomed to her voice. Jacob was like a very big puppy dog.
Wild Thing was a little more reticent, but eventually came around.
She thought Jacob was a running quarter; he was a very big horse, buckskin in color.
Wild Thing was much smaller, bay in color and, Raina discovered, a lover of having the area right behind his ears scratched.
She had no concept of just how long she’d been there until she heard footsteps and turned to see Axel and Andrew come into the stable area.
“You seem to be doing just fine,” Andrew said.
Axel was silent, walking over to join her. Evidently, the horses knew him. They both greeted him with snickers and whinnies. She quickly knew why. He had come bearing gifts, offering both of the horses apples before turning to Raina.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll get you home now.”
“Um, okay.” She turned to Andrew. “I loved meeting your horses and seeing your home. The horses are great, and your home is lovely.”
“Why, thank you,” Andrew said, smiling. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”
She started when she felt Axel’s hand on her shoulder. She wasn’t sure why. He’d taken her hand and held her several times.
Once when she’d been barely dressed.
“Sorry,” she said. “I guess I’m jumpy.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Andrew walked with them back to the car, opening the passenger-side door for her as Axel walked around to the driver’s side.
Andrew closed the door, leaned down and told her again how good it had been to see her—even if the situation wasn’t ideal.
Then he waved to Axel, and Axel eased the car out of the drive, along the small dirt-and-grit road, back to the Tamiami Trail.
“What is it?” he asked softly.
She turned to him with surprise. “Um—what?”
“You’re silent and you look worried.”
She shook her head. “You’re just accepting all this. Andrew just accepted all this. I don’t get it.”
“We’ve learned over time.”
“What did you talk about when I left? Assuming it wasn’t confidential,” she said.
“Just putting together what you said. It wouldn’t have been that hard to dispose of a body the way the last woman was set down low on the embankment right by the water. Smarter, though, than pushing it into the water where it might have drifted. People fish along the canal. Where it was—not visible from the road, covered with bracken but set in a truly damp and watery area where alligators and other creatures roam—was still easily accessible. The others were discovered badly decomposed and deeper into the Glades. I’d wager whoever is doing this knows a fair amount about the Everglades. That would suggest someone who lives out here or someone who works out here or even someone who has spent a great deal of time out here and knows some of the back paths—like the way to Andrew’s house. You don’t have to be a ranger or native to study and know a place, but I do believe it’s someone who has been local for years—local to Miami-Dade or Collier County at least, maybe closer, or maybe just someone who works here or visits here.”
“That’s vague.”
“Vague is all we’ve got. I also feel there has to be a relationship between the victims. What it is—we’re lost at the moment. We need identities on two. And we will get them. Then we start putting puzzle pieces together.”
“Sometimes killers are never caught,” she said softly.
“Not this one.” He glanced her way. “I think the killer’s thought pattern ran in that direction—dump bodies in the Glades. No way to connect them. Leave no evidence. Let nature be the clean-up crew. But still, I think this guy knows the Everglades, where people go and where they might go.”
“But this last victim. He just had to pull off the road and get his victim close to the canal where there was a little mound over the embankment, just enough to hide it from the road.”
“But people travel Tamiami Trail all day.”
“Not so much at night. The killer would know when to do it.”
She fell silent, shaking her head, wincing inwardly. She really had nothing to do with any of this. She’d tried on a dress.
“What will you do now?”
“I’m going to go back to the dress shop.” He glanced her way. “I’m going to meet with every clerk they have and ask who was in the shop trying that dress on. We may not need help. We might soon know who she was. They might get a match on the victim’s fingerprints or dental work. Tomorrow there will be an autopsy, and the forensic investigators may have something. I’ll keep you up on everything if you like. And of course, if you think of anything else—”
“Of course!” she said. “I’m available. I mean, I work, but I’m clear until the fundraiser Friday night. I planned my time for it. I mean, Titan is great, but I always like to run him through the paces before we’re part of something.”
“What is the fundraiser again?” he asked.
“It’s for something called the Children’s Place,” she told him. She hesitated, frowning. “Life is full of coincidences, isn’t it?” she murmured.
“It is? What’s the coincidence?”
“Well, the land and the buildings—which need lots of work—are on our way back. We can see it, if you like. Just make a right when you get to the Miccosukee Hotel and Casino.
“I’m delighted to be a part of this fundraiser. It rather hits two birds with one stone. Wait—that’s a bad analogy. The property was bought by a rich philanthropist and donated to the organizers. It’s going to be wonderful—a refuge for abused and abandoned animals and an education center for children—many of them homeless or orphans. I’m not in on the planning, but the kids will have the opportunity to interact with the animals. And there’s a lot more. There will be reading programs, sports programs. It’s brilliant. I believe most of the land was unincorporated Miami-Dade County. It’s huge, tons of acreage. There are a few houses on it. I think, at one time, someone had wanted it to be a family compound. Anyway, the fundraiser is a dinner and an auction, and there are all kinds of businesses donating. You can see where they’re breaking ground soon. The event is being held in Coral Gables, at a hotel right on Miracle Mile.”
“I’d love to see where this place will be, and actually, would it possible for me to attend the fundraiser?”
“Yes, of course. One of my old friends is running it along with the organizers. In fact, she was camping with us way back when.”
“It’s Friday night?”
“At seven. I’ll text you the details. Oh, I don’t have your number.”
“You need to have my number. And I need yours.” He rattled off numbers and she fumbled in her bag for her phone, repeating them.
“Call me,” he said. “Then you’ll be in my phone.”
She called him. He answered by pushing a button on the steering wheel. “Hey, turn up there, right?”
“Right,” she said into the phone. Then she quickly hung up, shaking her head, and added, “We head right, and then down a half mile or so and take another little road.”
He gr
inned.
When they reached the property, he pulled off the road and looked across the expanse of the grounds. In the rear, they could see the houses and a paddock and stables. They opened the doors and took a few steps away from the car.
“It’s amazing it’s here, really.”
He glanced at her. “Not quite so amazing. We are on the edge of the Everglades.”
“I have friends almost in the Everglades. Especially up in the western area of Broward County. They keep building farther and farther west.”
He nodded. “Well, if this comes to fruition, it will be great. It is an wonderful piece of property—and almost in the Everglades. In fact, at one time, it might have been. When I was little, half of this property didn’t exist out here. It was the sticks.”
“Yeah,” she said.
“Well, guess I’d better get you home,” he said.
He walked around, opening the passenger-side door for her. She slid into the car, quiet as he started to drive.
He was silent for a few minutes. “Who is the friend?”
“Her name is Elly Taylor. She’s an event coordinator. I went all the way through school with her—until college. But a lot of my friends wound up coming back, and we kept in touch. Social media can spread rumors like wildfire, but it can also keep friends and family close. Anyway, she’s working it pro bono as is everyone involved. A lot of my old friends—and new ones—will be there.”
“Thanks. I’d love to come.”
“No problem.”
They both fell silent for a few minutes, heading toward Bird Road since they’d turned. After a minute, he muttered something beneath his breath.
“Pardon?”
“Food. I’m sorry. I’ve had you out all day. I didn’t think about food and I’m suddenly starving. Do—do you want to stop somewhere?” He shrugged with a twisted grin. “I don’t mean to take more of your time. You may prefer your own place and I can drop you right off—”
Deadly Touch Page 5