A Killer's Watch (6 page)

“I’m getting nothing, no cameras anywhere.” Walking to the
closet, Jeri checked out every corner in there as well.

“Nada.” Joining Ethan in the center of the room, Jeri sighed
as she looked around. The room, brimming with the personality of a vibrant
young girl who made it her own, seemed empty somehow. The pillows, the posters,
the rugs, the scattered clothing, all seemed lifeless now, without Allison
there to infuse them with energy.

Jeri understood very clearly why Trudy could not yet come
into her daughter’s room. If she felt the loss of someone she had never met,
then being in the center of Allison’s world, without Allison, must be beyond
hell for her mother.

“Goodnight, dear,” Belinda Grant called to her son as she
passed by the parlor.

Finally, Graham thought, listening intently for sounds of
the car to exit the grounds. The light beep of the security panel indicated
that the limo had passed through the gates, taking the imposing Mrs. Grant, and
her insipid attorney, into the city.

Not willing to waste a moment, Graham slipped on his coat
and headed for the garage. The truck he’d purchased for just such an occasion
waited beside his Mercedes in the five-car space. He remembered his mother’s
face, the first time she’d seen the pickup, taking space alongside their much
more refined vehicles.

“But why on earth do you need such a thing?” she’d asked,
appalled.

“It’s something I’ve always wanted,” he’d told her.

Now, as he jumped into the cab of the nondescript truck, he
considered his disposal options, once again. In his tutorials, Anson made it
clear that multiple disposal sites worked best, unless you were trying to make
a statement. A statement always amped the risk level, but it could also be more
satisfying, overall.

Graham fully intended to drop Shelby off near where he’d
placed the two whores, in Clevestone. The police force there was a joke, but
that was not the reason for his selection.

She
lived in Clevestone.

The only girl he had ever loved.

Dropping the bodies of his victims near the home of Aubrey Watson
was his way of honoring what they had once had together. Aubrey never gave him
a second thought, after dumping him in high school. She would be surprised to
learn that he’d followed her career, such as it was, and that he knew she was
married to a farmer, living in a ramshackle house with him and their three
kids, in Nowheresville, Kansas.

He would have given her a life filled with luxury, catered
to her every whim, loved her beyond reason.

But she had chosen a life of squalor, married to a man who
would never be more than dirt farmer, etching out a living on the whims of
nature.

Driving the truck slowly over the landscape to the cellar
entrance, he wondered if Aubrey would see herself in Shelby, in Allison, and in
the others, when the time came. He’d searched thousands of images on Instagram,
looking for girls who reminded him of Aubrey, back when they were in love.

He’d found six, so far.

Hacking into their computers, activating the cameras,
watching them in the privacy of their bedrooms had been no more challenging
than ordering food from an online menu, if you had the skills.

And he’d mastered them, one by one.

Backing the truck to the entrance, he left the motor
running, but turned off the lights. It would only take a moment to retrieve
Shelby, toss her in the back. He would look in on Allison as well, while he was
here.

Feeling the chill in the night air, he decided to pick up a heat
lamp, while he was out. It wouldn’t do for Allison to succumb to hypothermia,
before they could spend time together. He’d seen how she was shivering, most of
his viewers liked that, so he hadn’t worried about it, up until now.

Besides, he didn’t have to make her comfortable, he could
just take the chill out of the air.

Flipping the light switch, before descending the stairs,
Graham felt the temperature drop as soon as he entered the cellar. Tonight
seemed much colder than last night, but then last night he’d been too busy to
notice.

Pushing open the door to Allison’s chamber, Graham was
pleased to note that she had stopped screaming, was no longer trying to escape,
futile though it was. She lay there passively, waiting for him to spend time
with her.

Allison turned her head as soon as the door opened. She’d
been waiting for someone to come, wanted this torture to be over, one way or
the other.

It wasn’t that she had given up, but she could see no way
out, until someone came to release her. Then she could fight, then she would
have a chance to get away.

“Hello, Beautiful,” Graham’s jovial voice seemed out of
place in the dreary space. The single light bulb hanging over the bed
illuminated Allison’s discomfort, and emphasized the fear on her lovely face.
His viewers would love seeing her so afraid.

“Who are you? What do you want? Let me go!”

“Now, now, none of that.” Graham came to stand beside the
bed, keeping his back to the camera, even though he wore a hood. Looking down
at her, he couldn’t resist touching her. Feeling the smoothness of her cold
skin made him want to stay and play.

But he couldn’t. He must dispose of Shelby, to make room for
Allison on his table.

“Stop that, don’t touch me!” Allison commanded, even though
she was powerless to stop him.

“You don’t make the rules, Allison,” he told her sharply.
“You’ll do well to remember that.” With a brutal squeeze of her breast, Graham
backed out of the room. “I’ll be back later, with a surprise for you.”

“Wait! Don’t go! Let me go!” Allison wailed as he left the
room.

Ignoring her screams, Graham made his way to the chamber
next door, where Shelby waited for him to return. Wrapped in plastic, she no
longer held any appeal for him. She was a chore now, something that had to be
done, before he could move on to more pleasant matters.

~~~

“He definitely has a type, after all,” Monique showed Chloe
the side-by-side photos of the missing girls.

“They both have long blond hair, but other than that, they
look nothing alike,” Chloe commented.

“They’re about the same height, but you’re right, their
facial features are not even similar,” Monique speared a piece of lettuce. “Who
knows what makes these guys tick.”

“When are Jeri and Ethan coming back?”

“They’re on the way. Now that he’s taken two victims, we
know more about him. We’re meeting in their suite in an hour.”

“I know you all are confident that one man killed the first
two women, and took the two girls, but I can’t see any correlation, other than
location.”

“The killer is likely counting on that. Before the second
teen was kidnapped, no law enforcement agency would connect the first missing
girl with two dead prostitutes, either. But the fact that the first two murders
were patterned after Anson’s kills, tells us that we have an active serial, but
only because Ethan had someone looking for cases like this.”

“Couldn’t there be two people? One killing prostitutes and
one abducting teenagers?”

“Sure, but the odds are good that we’re dealing with one
man. Jeri said that he would show us his real targets soon, and he has. We
would probably have a hard time convincing anyone that the two missing teens
are related to the dead prostitutes, unless the killer drops another body in
the same place. If he does that, we know he’s begging for attention.”

“If he’s followed this dude, Anson, who was supposedly a
real bad ass, then why would he leave the teenagers in the same place as his
first victims? Wouldn’t he be able to fly under the radar longer, if he chose a
different dump site?”

“That makes sense to me, and to you, but serials operate
under a different set of rules. Jeri is the profiler, she could probably
explain it better, but something drives them to do what they do. Including
where, and how, they leave the bodies of their victims.”

“I’ve got so much to learn about this stuff,” Chloe sighed
and picked up her burger.

“You’ll get there,” Monique assured her. “You don’t need a
degree in criminal psychology to do your job.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

~~~

“Check your email, Anna sent over an itemized list of similarities
between Shelby and Allison,” Jeri spoke to the room, even though she and Ethan
had already seen the list. “We need to know how he targets his victims, how he
knows when to strike.”

“I don’t suppose either girl reported being stalked?”
Monique asked as she skimmed the list.

“No, but Allison felt that she was being watched. We checked
her house for cameras, but found nothing,” Jeri answered. “Still, he has to be
tuned into them somehow. He knew that Allison would be at the club, knew that
she would be alone. But how?”

“Allison tweeted about going to the club, even posted a
picture on her Instagram page. Jeez, don’t these kids worry about privacy at
all?” Chloe asked.

“No, they want people to know where to find them. That
answers the question of how he knew where to find her, but it doesn’t tell us
how he knew that she would be alone. Her post mentions that she and Sandy were
going to the club. Most people would assume that they would drive up together,
not separately. So, how did he know?”

“He was at the club, watching. Saw his opportunity, and took
it,” Ethan answered.

Before Jeri could respond, Anna called.

“You’re not going to like this,” Anna warned, when she
answered.

“What?” Jeri demanded, putting the call on speaker.

“I’ve been tooling around the dark web, you know, checking
out sites that might have Anson’s signature. I decided to run facial
recognition for Shelby and Allison, just in case the perp posted something
about them. You won’t believe what I found.” The revulsion in Anna’s voice was
palpable.

“Don’t leave us hanging, Anna. What did you find?” Jeri
tried to hide her impatience, but it didn’t work.

“The killer posted a video of both girls. Shelby is dead.”

Stunned silence filled the room, but only for a moment.

“Can you trace it?” Ethan asked, ready to move.

“I tried, but he’s routed it all over the world. Once the
signal hit Asia, it split into a hundred pieces, each one going in
a different direction. Tracing it is impossible.”

“Did you see the killer’s face? Can you run recognition on
him?” Jeri asked, feeling sick to her stomach.

“No, he wore a hood, covered his entire head,” Anna
answered.

“You said that Shelby was dead, what about Allison?” Ethan
asked.

“That’s the kicker. He’s sending a live feed of Allison,
tied to a bed in some kind of concrete room. There’s one light, but no windows,
and no way of telling where she is.”

“Send us the link,” Jeri told her. “Is there anything else
you can tell us, anything that will help?”

“No, I’m sorry, I wish I could,” Anna’s voice broke, showing
her emotion. “You’ve got to find this maniac, guys. Soon, please!”

“We’re trying, Anna. Thanks.” Jeri disconnected, her face
blank. She didn’t want to see the video of Shelby’s death, or the one with
Allison, but she had to. They all had to.

“It looks like some kind of bunker,” Ethan had the video on
his tablet first. The man is at least six-feet-tall, if the table is a standard
height.”

“He’s Caucasian, we can see his hands, but his head is out
of the shot.” Monique added.

“He’s skinny, not very well built,” Chloe peered at the
screen, trying to enlarge the man’s image.

“It appears that Allison is in a different room, not as well
lit as the one Shelby is in,” Jeri told them. “The walls are obviously
concrete, so is the floor.”

“She looks scared to death, and freezing cold,” Monique said
quietly.

“That poor baby,” Chloe’s video had reached the part where
Shelby died. Tears filled her eyes, spilling over without her realizing it.

“I can’t wait to get my hands on that son-of-a-bitch,”
Monique’s anger overrode her sorrow. “Promise you’ll let me have five minutes
with him, alone.”

“I think we’d all like that,” Ethan answered. “Look at the
time stamp on Shelby’s video. It was taken this morning.”

“Long after he kidnapped Allison. So, he’s not worried about
getting caught. He’s confident in the secrecy, and privacy, of his location.”
Jeri shoved the tablet away and began to pace.

“Which eliminates any warehouse, or other place with public
access,” Ethan agreed. “He must have them in a basement, a cellar, a storm
shelter, someplace on his property.”

“With no windows, it could very well be underground,” Jeri
pointed out. “I think you’re on the right track. This area is prone to
tornadoes, it could be a storm cellar.”

“Wherever he is, it’s wired for electricity, and Wi-Fi,”
Monique added.

“That could be a basement, or a storm shelter,” Chloe
offered. “Some storm cellars are nice enough to hunker down in for the
duration. This could be one of those places.”

“The Wi-Fi signal could come from his home, with a strong
enough booster,” Ethan added. “Which leads us exactly nowhere.”

“Wait a minute,” Jeri stopped pacing. “Our guy is obviously
tech savvy, if he’s able to hide from Anna so effectively. I keep going back to
the fact that Allison felt someone watching her. Could he have been spying on
her through her laptop camera?”

“Wouldn’t the camera have to be on?” Chloe asked.

“I don’t know, but we should find out.” Jeri reached for her
phone.

“Anna, is it possible to use a webcam to spy on someone,
without them knowing it?”

“Sure, hackers do it all the time. The camera doesn’t even appear
to be on, in some cases.”

“You’re saying that if I have a laptop, open in a room, that
anyone could tap into the camera and have full view of the space? And nothing
would show up on the screen?”