by Geri Foster
Lincoln wrinkled his face. Nothing lasted twenty years. Especially a murder weapon. “But wouldn’t it have worn out by now? Maybe broken?”
“Depends on what it’s made of and how carefully he tended to it. I think it’s possible.”
“Hmm, I’m going to go see for myself. I find it kind of strange.”
“I don’t,” Mia said, her eyes wide and truthful. “You’re a lawman. Don’t you like to use the same gun?”
“Well, yes,” Lincoln said, his hand automatically going to the back holster at his waist. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t use another if I had to.”
“Those are the key words,” Mia said stubbornly. ‘Had to’. He doesn’t have to.”
* * *
Mia and Lincoln drove to Ft. Worth and paid Dr. Abbott another visit. They wanted to know more about the tool used to strangle the victims and find out how it had lasted so long. They arrived to find a man in his mid-thirties waiting for them. In the room, Dr. Abbott led them to a long table where several different kinds of garrotes were laid out in the middle of the chamber.
“Dale Summers is the best expert on strangulation weapons in our area. Perhaps he can answer your questions,” Dr. Abbot said, then left the room.
Mia stepped forward, examining the items on the table. “We’re concerned that the killer’s weapon of choice has lasted so long considering Dr. Abbott confirmed the garrote is the same one used in the first crime over twenty years ago.”
Lincoln refused to pick up one of those horrible things. “Can this kind of weapon be useful that long?” he asked.
Mr. Summers appeared to be a kind, soft-spoken man with thinning hair and big brown eyes. Lincoln found it strange that such a tranquil man collected such horrible items. They were used for one thing. To kill. Not something he’d be comfortable giving a home to.
“Allow me to explain,” Summers began. “As you can see, there are many things that can be used to make a garrote. Piano wire, rope, various cords, and even cable. Almost anything you can string could be used. Also, the word comes from the handles more than the choking section.”
“What kind did he use?” Lincoln asked, walking around the table.
“I’d say he used one with a rope or cord wrapped carefully in leather. That’s the only way he could’ve kept it still functioning without fear of it snapping in two.”
“Why is that?” Mia asked, folding her arms across her waist.
“Rope will shred after time. Dry out and become brittle. Piano wire becomes thinner with use until it breaks. Other things would be of no value to him.”
“So, he’s probably very fond of it,” Lincoln said. “Like an extension of his own hands.”
“Yes, one could say that.” He picked up a rope strung garrote and held it up. “Years ago, these were used for execution and they proved to be very effective.”
“As agents for the FBI, we don’t like them being used on little girls,” Mia said in a tight voice. “And we want to find the man before he kills again.”
“I don’t blame you one bit,” Mr. Summers said. “But this tells us only that he’s carefully crafted what he uses to kill his victims with and little else.”
“He’s right,” Lincoln said, so frustrated he wanted to scream. “There are probably hundreds of people who have these.”
“Collecting them is a very unique hobby because they’ve been around for hundreds of years. But I don’t think your suspect’s garrote was made in a store. As carefully crafted as I suspect it is, and the longevity of the item, I think he made it himself.”
“That tells us from the very beginning he planned to do this for a long time.”
They left and went back to Denton where they spoke with the ME. “Can you verify that she was killed by the same person as Linda?”
“Yes. The exact wounds, injuries, and method of killing were identical.”
Lincoln put his hand on the stainless steel counter and let out a deep breath. “Can you estimate how long he held her before snuffing out her life?”
The ME stared at him harshly. “I told you he had her most of the day.”
Lincoln was angry that he’d forgotten that information. Unhappy with what little the ME gave them, Mia and Lincoln left the hospital and got into their car.
“I don’t get it,” Mia said, exasperation trailing her words. “What the hell happened this time? Why did he suddenly decide to just dump the body at the side of a road without enjoying his usual two or three days before killing her? He hasn’t done that before.” She turned and gazed at Lincoln. “Do you think he’s getting careless?”
“No.” Lincoln did not think that. This man was a pro and he’d been at it a long time. “I figure he was either afraid of getting caught with a body in his vehicle or he hasn’t found the place he wants as a burial site yet.”
Mia reared back, confused. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, he buried the first little girl, Nancy, in an area that would easily be found. He dumped Linda on side of the road. I don’t think he’s trying to hide his crimes anymore.”
“Why not?” she asked. He had in the past.
“He knows when we catch him, he’s gone for life. Maybe even a needle in his arm. Why bother anymore with the preparation like he did before? He might feel he doesn’t need to do that now.”
“But these killers are methodical. They don’t just randomly do things like that,” Mia tried to explain. “Not unless something has provoked or angered them.”
Lincoln held out his arms, encouraging her to listen to him. “He is stepping way out of his comfort zone.” Lincoln’s phone rang, and after a few words, he disconnected and glanced over at Mia. “They’ve found another body.”
She gasped and inwardly collapsed. “He really is escalating. What’s he doing? That’s dangerous and not his regular MO at all.”
Lincoln tapped his lip with his index finger. “Why the rush?”
“I don’t know, but we need to catch him in a hurry.” Mia knew time was running out.
They arrived at the scene not two miles from their office.
“Strange he dumped a body here,” Lincoln said, looking around the area. “So close to the very people looking for him.”
Mia was stunned by Lincoln’s statement and wondered if it held any significance. “Yes. Unless he’s taunting us. Maybe he’s so confident, he doesn’t worry about being caught anymore.”
The Denton County Sheriff was there, checking out the body of a young black girl, no more than six years old.
“What happened here?” Mia asked, studying the lifeless body.
“Another murder. Looks like it’s your guy. I’d say the same MO but it’s changed so much I don’t know what to say except he dumped her on the road like the last one.”
“Any idea where she was abducted from?” Mia asked, trying to figure out why the body had been dumped there. “School’s in right now. Why wasn’t she there?”
The sheriff shook his head. “I don’t know. We’re waiting to talk to the parents. We just notified them to meet us at the hospital.”
Mia looked at Lincoln and rolled her eyes. Right back to where the Millers had been. “This is really getting out of hand,” Lincoln said, disillusioned with their efforts. “What the hell should we expect next?”
“When I first arrived here a few days ago, I thought I had a pretty good handle on who and what this guy was about. Not any longer.” Mia looked away, as disappointed as he was.
At the hospital, they talked to the ME who told them the murder appeared, at first glance, to be identical. The same person, in his opinion committed the crime.
That left them baffled and confused on where to start.
“This girl was just like Linda. Simply discarded on a rarely used road,” Lincoln said, looking at her. “One thing this tells us is that he’s familiar with the area. That road is full of pot holes and everyone avoids using it unless they have to.”
“Very little traffic. That suits
his latest MO,” Mia added.
“Okay,” Lincoln said, stroking his chin. “Let’s call it a day. Amelia’s expecting us for dinner.”
“I want to go to the hotel and change clothes if you don’t mind. I get sick of wearing the same thing every day.”
“Okay. We’ll meet there at six. Does that work?”
“Perfect.”
“I’ll text you her address.”
Mia drove her personal car to the hotel, got out, and went to her room on the third floor. She tossed her purse and keys on the bed and quickly undressed. Often, a quick shower proved to be the only way to wash away the pain of what she’d witnessed during her work day. Hopefully, that would work.
After dressing in a casual pair of jeans and a warm sweater, she went to leave her room. At the opposite end of the hall, she noticed a big, older guy heading for the elevator located in the middle of the hallway.
Cautiously, she stepped back into her room, giving the assumption she’d forgotten something. Inside, she waited a few minutes, hoping he’d go ahead of her and she wouldn’t be riding down with the stranger.
Eventually, she left her room, walked down the hall, and as she turned the corner, she found the man waiting for her. Only then did he press the button to call for the elevator. She missed the reassuring weight of the gun she usually carried in a back holster.
She smiled and stepped inside. Mia moved to the back of the elevator and stayed quiet. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as he turned to face her. A gut-wringing smile curved his lips, showing yellow, crooked teeth. His green eyes glared at her.
Just as he took a step in her direction, the bell dinged, and the door opened. Lincoln stood in the lobby waiting for her.
“Hi,” he called out. “I thought I’d pick you up and save you the trouble of trying to find the address. Rainwater is sometimes hard to get around.”
The man hurried past them and left immediately. Mia slumped against the inside wall of the elevator.
Lincoln paused. “What’s wrong,” he asked, his hand reaching out for her. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“That man in the elevator scared me. I think he was up to something because he’d turned to me just as the door opened. He had his hand in his pocket.”
“Do you have your weapon?”
She shook her head. “No. I left it in my room. I won’t do that again.”
Lincoln insisted they stop at the front desk of the hotel. Opal, a chubby woman with dyed red hair, came to the counter. “What do you want?”
Mia stepped forward and rested her forearms on the counter. “Do you have a guest staying at the hotel in his sixties? He was about six feet and maybe two forty to two fifty pounds?”
“No,” Opal snarled. “Only three rooms are rented. She pointed to Mia. “You, a couple on their honeymoon.” She rolled her eyes. “So they say, and Abigail Hollins’s sister visiting from Colorado.”
“No single man?” Lincoln asked, stepping up next to Mia.
“No, and I ain't seen one.”
“I just did, in the elevator,” Mia said. “He was there.”
“Ain’t no law against that,” Opal tossed out. “He was probably visiting someone. Can’t stop people from coming and going.”
They left, but Mia was nervous and unhappy. “That man was there for me. I felt it, Lincoln. I don’t know what would’ve happened if the elevator hadn’t stopped and you weren’t standing there.”
“Let’s get you out of here. It’s not safe. If you feel scared, then this isn’t the place for you.”
“I can check out tomorrow. I’ll stay closer to the freeway. It’s a longer drive to work, but I don’t care.” That offered her a little reassurance.
“Stay with me tonight,” Lincoln offered. “I have a big house with two spare bedrooms. We’ll come back here and get your clothes for tomorrow and you can check out. Until we know what this guy wants, I don’t think you should be alone.”
“I’m not real comfortable staying with another person. I’ve been alone most of my life. I might crash at your place tonight, but tomorrow, I’ll check in to the Hampton Inn. I should be safe there.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Chapter 6
Lincoln was glad to re-introduce Mia to David and his sister. Leah took to her immediately and, as usual, Amelia had outdone herself for dinner. The rich aroma in the house made his mouth water. She’d fixed delicious chicken breasts stuffed with ham and cheese, dumpling potatoes, and fresh green beans. There was always a salad on his sister’s table, and she’d made her famous chocolate dream cake. Lincoln could hardly wait.
They enjoyed a friendly conversation during dinner. Leah chatted away, her hand busy sticking her little spoon in her mouth.
“Leah has a very healthy appetite,” Mia said, giggling as she watched his niece with fascination.
Amelia nodded to David and Lincoln, who were also attacking their food with great gusto. “She gets that from those two.”
David lifted his head, confused. “What? We’re just hungry and so is she. I think it’s perfectly normal.”
“Most children today are pretty picky,” Mia said.
“Not Leah,” Lincoln said with a proud grin.
David agreed. “You put it in front of her, she’ll eat it.”
After dinner, Amelia served coffee and chocolate cake while David put Leah to bed. The four of them were finally alone to talk about the case.
“Lincoln?” David said, accepting his slice of cake. “I’m glad you like working for Austin and the FBI. Nothing like the Houston PD, huh?”
“A lot different, and a lot more rules. But we have greater jurisdiction. So, being on top of things really helps.” He pointed to Mia. “She’s been with the FBI since leaving college.”
“Were you always a profiler?” David asked, lifting his cup to his lips.
“No. I was an investigative agent, just like Lincoln, until I finished my training.” Lincoln gazed at her and realized she looked so pretty sitting on the couch in a normal environment. The sweater clung to her body and the jeans she wore hugged her hips tightly. Until now, he hadn’t noticed her like that.
Amelia came from the kitchen and sat beside David, who instantly put his arm around her and pulled her closer.
“I heard another child was murdered today,” Amelia said sadly.
“Yes,” Lincoln replied. “I can’t believe we’ve had three bodies in as many days. This guy is really on a killing spree.”
“How can you stop him?” his sister asked. Her concern for her own child was evident by the way she chewed her bottom lip.
“Grandma Faith said she saw a van,” David remarked. “Lucas and I have deputies out searching right now.”
“But they haven’t found anything yet?” Amelia asked, hoping he’d have good news.
“We’re not sure what we’re looking for. Grandma Faith said the word plumber was on the side of the van. It could belong to a legitimate guy who works as a plumber,” David said wearily.
“That’s right.” Lincoln placed his fork on the cake plate. “We have almost nothing to go on with this guy. There weren’t even any fibers left behind.” He wished he had better news. Something that would put his sister’s mind at ease, but it wasn’t going to be that easy.
“That’s unusual.” David’s brows lifted. “Even the ones he dumped on the road?”
“Clean as a whistle,” Mia added. “Not a speck of anything on the bodies.”
David sat up, placing his elbows on his knees. “That means if he has that kind of time to clean up, then he’s not just dumping the bodies to get rid of them. That’s part of his plan.”
“Exactly,” Mia said pointedly. “I think he’s taunting us. We couldn’t catch him before. He’s probably pretty confident we won’t now.”
“Well, he’s wrong,” Lincoln stated with conviction. “Nobody’s giving up until this psycho is arrested. Hopefully he’ll get stupid in the end and try to shoot his wa
y out. Then we can take him down.”
Amelia touched David’s arm. “I don’t like talk about killing people.”
David glanced at his wife over his shoulder. “He’s killed more little girls than we can count. We found over twenty bodies before he stopped. For all we know, he could have another site we haven’t stumbled onto yet.”
“True. As much as I hate to say it, Amelia,” Mia said. “There’s no telling how long this guy has been killing. He could’ve started in his teens.”
“But why little children?” Amelia begged for the answer.
“Often we never know why serial killers do what they do. Ted Bundy’s victims all looked similar and, when questioned, even he didn’t know why.”
“I think it’s horrible and I worry about Leah,” Amelia said, her voice cracking. “I won’t even take her to the park.”
“I don’t blame you.” Lincoln tried to soothe his sister’s frazzled nerves. “But, so far, he’s avoided those areas where other people might notice a lone man lingering around. He’d be out of place in a park.” Lincoln took a sip of coffee. “Most girls are taken right out of their neighborhoods. They’re either on their way to school, or church, or home, or out riding their bikes. The victims are always alone.”
“So, no eye witnesses.” Amelia said, fighting back tears.
“Correct,” Mia muttered.
“That’s why we have no idea what he looks like,” Lincoln added.
“How are you ever going to find him?” Amelia asked, her face twisted with fear.
Lincoln glanced away, unable to see Amelia so upset. It brought back memories of the pain he’d put his family through when he was bringing down the Mexican cartel. “I don’t know, but we will. We’re working on it almost non-stop.”
Mia looked at Amelia. “The sad thing is, with a new victim every day, we’ve been tied up at either a crime scene or the ME’s office.”
David shook his head. “That makes it tough.”
Lincoln sat up straight. “Earlier, I met Mia at the Wayward Inn. There was a strange man there who caught her attention. He wasn’t a guest of the hotel and Opal, as usual, was no help at all. Tonight, Mia is staying at my place until she can check into the Hampton Inn nearer to the freeway. I don’t want her going back to that hotel alone.”