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Holy shit, the sick freak acted alone. Surely, two men would have moved Sarah’s SUV.

Kane rubbed his chin, pondering his prime suspects, and his mind filled with doubt. His brief encounter with Josh Rockford gave him the impression he was a pack animal. As the alpha male, he liked to impress his friends and bathed in their praise, which would mean he would not go on a murder spree alone. As an exhibitionist, he would want the world to view his kills and stage his victims for the ultimate shock effect, not hide them in a barrel or root cellar. Unless he had planned to return with his groupies to show them the kill, maybe take some selfies. If the killer believed he was untouchable, aka the mayor’s son, anything was in the realms of possibility.

He considered the recent release of Stan Clough. His profile fit like a glove but he needed to know more about his case. Had he brutalized animals in the same manner and escalated his killing spree to people? His thoughts moved to the realtor, John Davis. Instinct told him to dismiss him as a possible suspect, although being the last person to see Mrs. Woodward and to have interacted with Sarah hours before her murder should have placed him slap bang in the middle of his radar.

Both murders had the hallmarks of a sadistic killer, someone who enjoyed inflicting pain and making their victims suffer. Causing the amount of damage on both victims would take considerable strength. He doubted John Davis had the physical capabilities and suspected a much younger, stronger person. The question of motive burned in his mind. Not a hate crime or a frenzied attack; from what he had witnessed on both bodies, the torture had been slow and systematic, the end brutal yet swift.

He discounted an opportunistic thrill kill. Most in this group of crazies killed and left the body in situ rather than attempting to hide their crime. They discarded their victims’ bodies like burger wrappers in the open. Once the thrill was over, the life gone, they held no value. The chance of Sarah crossing paths with her murderer on this stretch of highway would be remote. No predator would hang out on an isolated back road, especially in winter, in the hope of finding a victim to lure to their death.

The body in the barrel was not Mrs. Woodward, and he had no motive for the sadistic murders. Unless money was involved and the killer had murdered Mrs. Woodward as well. After all, she too had withdrawn large sums before she vanished. If someone had murdered her for her cash, then that alone would tie in Sarah. She had information in the letters from her mother detailing her grandmother’s last-known whereabouts; perhaps Mrs. Woodward had mentioned the properties she planned to visit. It would make sense for her to check every possible lead. Add in the fact she had failed to make her movements secret, and any number of people in the garage or real estate office could have overheard her plans.

On the back roads of Black Rock Falls County, she would have been alone and vulnerable. He wondered if the murderer followed Sarah or lured her to this location. Had she called anyone in the hours before her death? He needed her cellphone records. If the killer murdered both victims, whoever had killed her must have believed the information she had in the letters from her mother led straight to him.

He ran over the timeline. The last person to see Sarah alive as far as he could determine would have been Mary-Jo Miller. Sarah had signed out the SUV at eight and he had arrived on scene at four thirty. The killer had time, as long as eight hours, to murder Sarah, take her motel key, then trash her room and destroy the evidence. A local would know about the lack of security and check-out time, but how did the killer discover Sarah had the letters? Kane pushed his fingers under his woolen cap to rub the throbbing scar on his head and went over the evidence one more time.

As far as he was aware, apart from her visit to the station, Sarah had discussed her information with at least three people: Rosa at the motel, Mr. Miller at the garage or perhaps his daughter, and maybe she had mentioned it to John Davis the realtor. He cast his mind back to the night her car broke down. She had informed him about the information she had discovered, and Billy Watts had been right there beside him in the Cattleman’s Hotel parking lot. Another link to Rockford. Watts had overheard everything, including his orders to Daniels to escort her back to her motel. Watts could have followed her to the motel and discovered her room number. He pulled out his notebook and jott

ed down a list of people to interview. His main aim would be to discover the suspects’ whereabouts between eight this morning and the approximate time of death. For now, he would have to cool his heels and wait for the autopsy report then discuss his theories with Alton. He would need her permission to haul in his list of suspects for questioning.

Another chilling thought entered his mind. If the killer concealed the first murder but deliberately left Sarah’s body as a display of his brutality for Jenna to see, it would change everything. The words of Jenna’s attacker rang in his head like a death knell. Keep your mouth shut or I’ll show you exactly what I’m capable of doing.

Cold seeped into his bones as if he stood naked in the freezing temperature. The threat against Jenna hung in the air, unspoken but as sure as the sun rising in the morning. Sarah’s murder is an example of his brutality, and next time it will be Jenna.

Thirty-Six

The satellite phone signaled an incoming call and Kane snatched it from his pocket.

“Good afternoon, this is Father Maguire returning your call.”

He dragged his thoughts from his deliberations and cleared his throat. “Ah, Father Maguire, thanks for returning my call. I have a few questions regarding John Helms. Do you ever recall him wearing a gold bangle?”

“A bangle, yes. A torque, he called it. I believe it was a family heirloom and he rarely removed it, as I recall. He said the inscription contained a story about his ancestors.”

Shit. The body is John Helms. Kane leaned his forehead against the wall and swallowed a groan. The only connection between the murders had vanished like smoke in the wind. He had tied up everything so neatly in his mind, and the revelation that he had made a gaping error in his impeccable deductive skills came as a shock. If the body was John Helms, the motive for Sarah’s murder and the burning of the letters had flown out the window. He wanted to curse in frustration and sucked in a deep steadying breath. “That’s very interesting, and do you remember if he had any tattoos?”

“Yes, a symbol of some kind on his right shoulder. He had it done recently and it was a bone of contention with his wife. He mentioned the argument with her about it before he left. Does this mean you have some news for me, at last?”

“Not officially, no.” Kane backpedaled. “We found a body and can’t make a positive ID without dental records or DNA. We can’t jump to conclusions and assume the victim is Mr. Helms and I would not want to cause undue distress to his wife.”

“I understand completely. How can I help?”

“Is it possible to get me the name of Mr. Helms’s dentist?” Kane strolled to Rowley’s position and peered out the window, relieved to see Walters’ cruiser and a truck moving toward the house. “I’d rather not contact Mrs. Helms until we have more information. At the moment I am still conducting routine enquiries.”

“There are three in town. I’ll have to tell a white lie and say John recommended him to me when I ask his wife for his name. I will call you back.”

“Thank you.” Kane disconnected and strolled across the room to stand beside Deputy Rowley. “Stay here and keep watch. I’m going to help Sheriff Alton unload the equipment.”

“Okay.” Rowley straightened. His face remained pale and his voice shook slightly. “Do you want me to keep the details of Sarah’s murder to myself? You know Daniels and Maggie will ask what’s happening out here.”

Kane nodded. “Yeah, say nothing for now other than we’re dealing with an incident. For now, apart from me, only Sheriff Alton will know the exact details of the murder, and I’m planning to keep it that way. I’m hoping when the forensics team has examined the crime scene and completed an autopsy, they’ll be able to give us more information.” He placed a hand on Rowley’s shoulder. “Often, keeping specifics of a crime secret leads to an arrest. Sometimes murderers like to brag about the kill, and then you have the lunatics who come into the station to confess. It’s all in the details, so we keep our mouths shut. Got it?”

“Yeah, no worries.”

Kane did a visual scan of the area outside then pulled open the front door. He jogged to the truck. The door opened with a whine and Jenna slid out, landing effortlessly beside him.

“Hey.” Jenna gripped his arm and her concerned gaze raked his face. “You look like hell.”

Kane swallowed the lump in his throat and kept his voice just above a whisper. “I sure came close to hell in the root cellar.”


Tags: D.K. Hood Mystery