by Jenna Kernan
“Like the others. Exit wounds. Entry is on the posterior thigh. She’s got more on her back.”
Nadine blanched. “How many more?”
“Still counting. Arrows again,” said Kline. “If there’s one in the body, we’ll spot it on X-ray.”
The killer had left an arrow point behind in the bodies of both Darnell and Karnowski. She’d seen them. Usually this type of arrow screwed into a plastic housing in the shaft. But these points had the threads filed away, so that when the shaft was removed, the point remained. It was no accident. He’d intentionally planted these projectiles inside his victims.
“Spine injury?” asked Nadine.
Kline glanced up at her through the clear plastic face shield. “We’ll see.”
The smell was so bad she could taste it at the back of her throat.
Nadine tried to picture this woman’s death.
It seemed to Nadine that someone had sent this woman running naked through the thick tropical underbrush and shot her from the back multiple times. Was that before or after catching her in the snare? A running target was more challenging. A swinging one perhaps more enticing because you could see her face.
“Could you determine if she was snared while alive?”
“Definitely. The bruising alone and the tissue damage.”
Nadine folded one arm about her and used the opposite hand to pinch her nose with her thumb and index finger to block the stench. Breathing through her mouth was only slightly better.
Then she closed her eyes. She could see this woman, running for her life. Tripping and falling and scrambling to her feet, unaware she was being herded along.
Nadine pictured her plight. Her pink body darting in and out of palmettos. The rustle of the wide fronds and the rasp of her heavy breathing, punctuated by her weeping. She would have taken the animal trail, of course. Easier to run.
I let her get just far enough ahead to feel she might escape. It’s so much sweeter that way. Do I shoot her now or wait until she’s helpless? If I shoot her now, she might fall and not get up. I want to see my snare.
Patience. I follow, stalking with my bow gripped tight. Waiting. Just a few more steps…
“Dr. Finch?”
Her eyes snapped open. Both women stared at her.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“You were making a sound. I thought you might be feeling ill.”
“I’m fine.”
A tapping caused them to turn. Skogen stood in the observation area, gesturing to Nadine.
She nodded at Kline and Juliette and stepped out to talk to him. His face was grim.
“We got another call from the Orlando Star. They’ve got a new letter we believe is from our boy.”
Outside, warm sunshine drove away the chill, but the stink continued to linger in her nostrils. She used a napkin to wipe away the Vicks.
“He’s calling himself ‘the Huntsman,’” said Skogen.
She glanced up at him. “Appropriate.”
His expression was giving her a really bad vibe, like he knew something, and she wasn’t going to like it.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“He’s issued a challenge.”
“To whom?” But even as she said it, she already knew the answer. Icy tendrils threaded down her spine.
“To you.”
“Where’s the letter?” She needed to read it. See his exact words.
“It’s actually a greeting card, this time. That reporter, Murphy, read it to me over the phone.”
“What did it say, exactly?”
“He mentioned three new victims.”
Her voice rasped as horror gripped her throat. “Three?”
“He said so. We just picked one up at Silver Glen Springs. And he cited that location in the card. But he also referred to Lake Bryant and Grass Lake.”
“We don’t have three missing persons. Only one. Only Linda Tolan.” She rushed on, rejecting the possibility.
“I know. I have a team up at the other sites now with search and rescue.”
She barely registered this as her mind raced. Three victims. “He said three?”
Skogen nodded.
Was their unsub bluffing? No. This killer didn’t bluff. He’d killed three more women. The horror of that settled heavy in her stomach. Nadine thought she might be ill.
Her heart gave a panicky little flutter of recognition as she recalled just moments ago looking at the blackened skin on the partial remains right now awaiting autopsy. The body had been recovered from Grass Lake. A possible drowning victim, the ME had said.
“We found a body in Grass Lake,” Nadine said, explaining it to Skogen.
“So you think the possible drowning victim is one of the three?”
“I don’t know.” She pressed a hand to the top of her head. “Yes. Yes, I do. But it’s not Linda Tolan. She’s been eliminated. They don’t match.” She had out her phone, dialing Juliette.
“Tolan might be in Lake Bryant. That would make the three.”
Her heart pounded as unease prickled across her neck. The call to Juliette continued to ring. Her friend was performing an autopsy. Nadine would have to leave a message or send someone to tell her the partial might be a victim.
“He’s issued a challenge to you directly, Nadine. He asked why you didn’t recognize any of them.”
“Recognize them?” The unease now sent hot darts of fear through her heart. “Agent Skogen! Why should I recognize them?”
They pulled into the lot of the Orlando Star fifty minutes later, leaving Skogen’s vehicle, followed by Nadine’s new security detail.
Nadine’s mind spun like a crashing plane. Did she know the victims?
She had not attempted to recognize either body because she never expected even a chance encounter with any of his victims. But she’d met Linda Tolan before her abduction, at the hotel. Had she met others?
He was indicating that she had. Which confirmed that he wasn’t just targeting those women. He was targeting her.
“I’ve got to keep the Star from publishing that damn letter,” said Skogen. “Let’s go.”
Juliette’s text chimed on Nadine’s phone and she glanced down at the screen, pausing before the building entrance.
Arrow point in hip of partial #1, Grass Lake vic. ID made on vic #2, Silver Glens Springs. Call me.
“Just a minute,” she said to Skogen and called her friend.
Before she could say a word, Juliette broke in.
“Nadine, it’s April Rupp. They made a positive ID.”
Nadine gasped and pressed her hand to her forehead. Cold sweat beaded there.
“What?” barked Skogen.
She plugged her ear to block out Skogen and focus on Juliette.
“We know her! Our landlady! Nadine, I called Clint. He says this is bad. This is personal.”
She’d seen their landlady only yesterday morning. The woman had been angry that they had not disclosed they were FBI. Could that bloated, unrecognizable corpse they’d dragged from the weeds really be April Rupp? The warm springwater had sped decomposition, making her unrecognizable but, yes, it could be.
Nadine wrestled with accepting that someone she knew was so suddenly gone, when the fear began seeping in. She knew her. She knew April Rupp and she knew Linda Tolan.
“We didn’t have Mrs. Rupp listed missing,” said Nadine, as if that would make this any less true.
“I know. Clint’s checking.”
Nadine had met two of the missing. Skogen was right. This was not a coincidence. Then what, exactly, was it?
“The arrowpoint in the partial?”
“Yeah. I got your message it might be connected. The arrow point confirms. Do we know her, too?”
“Call Tina. Ask her to confirm that Bianca Santander is being held in the Glades County Detention Center.”
“Okay. Right now.”
“Then call me back.”
Clint’s call ca
me in as she was speaking to Juliette.
“What’s happening?” asked Skogen as his phone began ringing. A glance showed Special Agent Coleman calling.
He took his call as Nadine took Demko’s.
She heard Skogen say, “Who?”
“Clint?” she said into her phone.
“Did Juliette get to you first?”
“Yes. She said that it’s Mrs. Rupp.”
“Where are you?”
She told him about the letter and that they were in Orlando now.
“Did you say three victims?”
“Yes. And that I should have recognized them. Clint, I never thought to even try to recognize them.”
“You couldn’t. Not after they were out that long in the heat.” He scrubbed his mouth with his palm. “This is because of that damn leak. It put you front and center before this madman.” He spit out the words like venom.
“But I met Tolan before the leak.”
This was met with silence. She swallowed the lump in her throat and listened to snatches of Skogen’s call.
The sound of Clint’s rapid breathing did not reassure.
“How does he know you didn’t recognize them?”
That thought was equally disturbing.
“I don’t know.”
“He’s watching you. Possibly us.”
She thought of the security tape of the hotel corridor and the man she had seen, but the camera had not, and shivered.
“So Linda Tolan is connected to you. Rupp is connected. Who is the third?”
“The partial remains?” she asked.
“From Grass Lake?”
“Juliette said there is an arrow point in her hip.”
“Our guy?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know. But I asked Juliette to check with Tina about the woman from the poster.” Her voice sounded so breathless.
“Bianca Santander? She’s still in detention.”
“I know, but… No one else is missing.”
“That we know of. Demko never found Rupp listed as missing. Besides, you don’t know Santander.”
She turned to see Skogen staring at her. His mouth was hard set. The grim expression only increased her panic.
“Are you with Skogen?” asked Demko.
“Yes.”
“I mean right with him?” he asked.
“Yes. And the security detail is here.”
“Stay with him. Don’t let him go anywhere without you until I get there.”
“Yes.”
“Right with him. Promise me.”
“Yes. I promise.”
She ended the call and pivoted to face Special Agent Skogen.
“What?” she asked.
His words and voice were somber as a shroud. “The Huntsman just made this a contest between you and him.”
Nadine began to shake. Skogen moved closer. He reached out as if to pull her into an embrace and she stepped back.
She didn’t need comfort, not from him. She needed answers.
Nadine turned to the entrance. “Let’s get that letter.”
Two hours later, Nadine was back at the office. Special Agent Vea had dropped the new communication from the Huntsman to the FBI evidence lab in Orlando and she was waiting for a digital copy.
On her arrival Tina gave her a chef’s salad and a bottle of green tea.
“Green tea?” she asked.
“You need the antioxidants,” said Tina.
She needed a sedative.
“Thank you. Where’s Demko?”
“Up in Marion County with the sheriff searching Lake Bryant for remains.”
“What about the detention center? Do they still have Santander?”
Tina’s shoulders sank.
“No. They never had her. Her attorney told me it was a mistake. The wrong person. Same name.”
Nadine’s stomach flipped. “She’s still missing?”
Her assistant nodded, looking close to tears.
“Call Juliette. Tell her this. Ask that social worker to contact the family and get something to identify her. Scars, tattoos, dental records. Something. Then get that to Juliette.”
“I can contact the family. I have her brother’s number.” Tina sped away.
Nadine dove into her work. She knew no other way than to focus all her anxiety and panic than to pinpoint it onto her profile.
It was clear that Darnell and Karnowski had been lured into the forest. But had Linda Tolan been lured or had the Huntsman followed her from the hotel? In either case, their unsub’s method had clearly changed when Tolan had escaped. He’d taken her from her home. He’d presumably taken April Rupp from her yard.
What had made him change his method?
She stared at the names and dates and places as an idea began to form, a new pattern and the important date where the entire thing pivoted, Tuesday, March 30th, the day she had arrived in Ocala.
In the outer office, she heard Tina on the phone speaking in rapid Spanish. A moment later, she rushed in.
Nadine gave Tina her full attention. The sinking feeling was back in her stomach.
“What?”
“I reached the brother of Bianca Santander. His sister worked two jobs. Housecleaning and breakfast attendant at a hotel.”
Apprehension rippled over Nadine on a current of air.
“Which hotel?”
“The one where we all stayed.”
Nadine’s heart clenched as she thought of the small, anxious woman at the breakfast area on her very first day at the hotel.
Bibi.
Nineteen
Nadine sucked in a breath as Tina continued.
“Her brother gave me the name of the dentist they use.”
“Call Juliette. Give her the name.”
Tina’s eyes brimmed with tears. “You might have met her, too!”
“I… I, yes. I remember a small woman in the breakfast area my first day here. But we don’t know for sure that it’s her.”
Tina gulped.
Nadine was on her feet. “Call Juliette.”
She headed for Skogen’s office.
There she found him with Special Agent Wynns hunched over a computer monitor reviewing security footage.
Wynns glanced up at her.
“Dr. Finch?” he said, causing Skogen to glance up.
She told them what Tina had discovered, about the arrow point in the hip of their Jane Doe. Finally she relayed the interaction she’d had with Santander at breakfast.
“When?” asked Vea.
“It was Tuesday, March 30th, just after eight a.m.”
She’d covered for the woman with her boss after Santander had accidentally discarded Nadine’s uneaten breakfast. And Linda Tolan had shouted at her, so had Mrs. Rupp. Had these slights doomed them? It seemed unlikely but the notion was taking root.
“Pull up March 30th,” said Skogen, lifting his phone and speaking to Special Agent Vea, instructing him to contact the hotel to verify employment for Santander.
Nadine waited, watching as they began.
They found the footage and she pointed.
“There. That’s me.”
Strange to see the scene played out again from a different perspective.
“That’s Bibi.” She pointed again.
“Bibi?”
“That’s what her boss called her.”
“Okay. We got it.”
She hovered and then left them, pausing midway to her office. Poor woman. She thought of the partial remains, unrecognizable.
Was that Bibi?
Nadine covered her face and let the tears come.
“Hey, hey. Come here.”
She glanced up to find Clint Demko closing in, his gaze sweeping over her. She said nothing, just lifted her arms, seeking what she needed most.
Demko drew her in. He held tight, resting his chin on the top of her head. She sagged, letting him take some of her weight. He did so easily.
He rubbed her back, his hands confident and soothing as they moved rhythmically up and down. His breath warmed the top of her head. She pressed her cheek to his chest, feeling the Kevlar vest and inhaling the comforting scent of sandalwood.
“I thought you were in Marion County,” she said.
“Wanted to check on you.”
She kept her eyes closed and her cheek pressed to him as he rocked her.
“We’ll get this guy, too, Nadine. We’ll put him away so he can’t touch you or anyone else.”
She nodded. That was what she wanted, why she was here.
“He’s watching me.”
“You’re his opponent. He’s a hunter, so he likes games. This will make him easier to catch.”
He didn’t pull away until she stepped back.
“How did you hear?”
“Juliette and Tina.”
He rested his hands on her shoulders, gazing straight into her eyes.
“We’ll get him, Dee. We will.”
She nodded, struggling with the knot corded in her throat.
His hands dropped away. The warmth of his touch lingered, and she no longer felt lost. She felt determined.
“I have so much work to do.”
He smiled, as if he suddenly had her back.
“Have you seen the card we picked up yet?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“I have a copy.”
They walked to her office.
Nadine retrieved the copy of the greeting card sent by the Huntsman that she’d received from Skogen and passed it to him, trying and failing to control her pounding heart. This card was personal, sent to her.
Demko accepted the double-sided color copy of an open greeting card. The back of the card was blank except for the product details and bar code. On the front, there was an illustration of an owl and the caption read: Happy Birthday!
He flipped the page to read the interior. The printed message read, Hope your birthday is a HOOT! On the blank side of the card was the familiar tight cursive lettering.
“Trace evidence?” asked Demko.
“I don’t know. The lab has the original.”
Demko scanned the message that she had already memorized.
Dear Dr. Finch,
I’ve lured three intruders from our home territory, removing them to Lake Bryant, Grass Lake and Silver Glen Springs.