Darkness Of Truth (An FBI/Romance Thriller~ Book 6) (61 page)

Kane watched the interaction and wasn’t happy. “Thanks Thomas. You have a good night.” He dismissed the man to get back on track with his plan.
He didn't want outside interference.

Thomas nodded
, whistling on his way out of the room.

“I’m ready to help,” he said, moving his chair closer. “Teach me all about
ammonia and isolated isotopes.”

That she could do with her eyes closed
. “Okay.”

             
                            *   *   *

Elizabeth stood at the whiteboard while they all passed the files around. Both kids had been placed in their
pack and plays in one of the spare rooms, the pizza had been consumed, and it was now time to get down to business.

“Okay, we have seven victims that had feathers placed by or on them.
The first three happened twenty five years ago, and then nothing. Now we have a killer that started back up again, the biggest hurdle we’re faced with is if it’s the same individual or a copycat.”

Ethan walked to the board and stared at the victim’s names. It was time for him to give his profile. “I think we need to first look at it as a whole and then break it apart. Most likely it’s going to give us the answer we need. Logically the truth will stick out from the confusion.”

“What do we know about our killer?” asked Elizabeth, ready to fill in the details.

“We don’t know ethnicity. We have a single blood drop found by Julian on a leaf. It could have been a hunter with a bloody nose for all we know,” he stated. “We can look at the victims and try to ascertain more from that. The victims were a mix. Generally a serial killer will hunt a specific victim. Rarely do they cross ethnicity. I’m not saying it can’t happen, but we’re not talking prostitutes and hookers. We’re talking about citizens
he’s picking for a rational reason in his mind. I don’t think we can accurately tag our killer with what we have.”

“
How old is the perpetrator?” Callen asked.

Blackhawk thought about it. “First let’s look at the one killer scenario. If we have one solitary killer, than he’s going to be up there in age. If he was twenty five when he started killing, he’s at least fifty now. The evidence isn’t pointing to an older man, but then again, I can’t say it’s not possible.
There are degrees of strength and some mature men have it.”

Callen stood, staring over at his father who was working on carving something off in the corner. “Dad, come here.” He proceeded to
lie on the floor.

Wyler stood over him and laughed. “Yeah?”

Elizabeth got it. “You’re in really good shape, Dad. Drag your son across the floor and try to get his body up on that couch,” she said, pointing at the furniture.

“If you say so,” he answered, looping his arms under his son’s and dragging him across the floor ten feet.
He had to put him down and take a break.

Callen
stayed limp, becoming dead weight. “Having a hard time?”

Wyler grinned. “You shouldn’t have
had that last piece of pizza,” he answered, trying to lift his son the two feet off the floor. “Doable, but really hard,” he said, breathing heavy. “I am nearly sixty.”

When his father finished the task, Callen went back to
the floor, taking his original spot. “Okay, so we proved an older person who is in really good shape could conceivably pull it off. Now let’s check the scenario for a younger person.”

Elizabeth pointed at Julian. “Can you do what Wyler just did?”

He went to the man and mimicked the same hold on Callen. While Wyler was bigger in stature, Julian had age and strength on his side. He easily dragged him to the couch and barely struggled when lifting his dead weight onto the couch.

“I agree with your father on the pizza,” Julian added, snickering.

“Funny. You’re both hysterical.” Callen was back up on his feet. “We proved they both could pull it off.”

“Yeah, but we also know from the front of James Duffy’s head that height wise it was a smaller man.
I doubt a man at dad’s age and Julian’s height could pull it off. Dad was able to use his body as leverage to lift you.”

“So we know it’s a younger, shorter killer?” Rick Longtree asked.

“I think we have two scenarios going on here at the same time. Not only do we have the shorter man versus the older man, but we also have the simple fact the killer stopped his spree for twenty five years.”

“That’s rare in the serial killer world,” added Elizabeth.

Blackhawk nodded. “I really believe we have two murderers and the crimes shouldn’t be looked at together, but broken apart as separate entities.”

Elizabeth sat on the arm of the couch beside Callen. “I
had Maggie run the search for us and there aren’t any other local cases where the killer leaves a white feather as his calling card.” Maggie, their boss’s administrative assistant was known for two things. She could track down a flea on a dog in a pack of hounds and could make a grown man blush with her winks.

“A serial killer
keyed into something like a white feather as his signature isn’t going to deviate to a different method, and then come back again. He’s going to carry through and keep it going. This is my big indicator that we have two different men doing the crimes. There are a few small details that differentiate the two possible killers.”

Callen got this one. “The fake feathers.”

“Yep. The killer wouldn’t start with one kind of feather and then switch it up. That’s his calling card and that means he’s going to carry through and nail that detail every time,” Blackhawk stated, unequivocally.

“If it matter
s,” started Julian, “I think that we have two killers too. When someone was shooting at us in the woods, I tried to chase him down. I’m pretty sure I could catch a fifty plus year old man.”

Wyler laughed from his seat. “Don’t bet in it, son. I’m a hunter and if I was going to shoot at you, you wouldn’t be able to chase me.”

Elizabeth laughed. “No offense but I’ve been in the woods with him. My money’s on Wyler. He’s stealthy.”

Julian grinned. “You may be the exception to the rule. Most sixty year olds can’t out run me. The person that was shooting was a bad shot, but he was quick. That just feels like a younger person to me.”

Blackhawk had more to add. “The fact he stalked you patiently through the woods while you’re on horseback shows us that he’s a follower. The man is definitely watching and observing. We know that he had to be following James Duffy. He knew his habits and was studying his subject.”

Elizabeth agreed. “The killer knew where to find Boyd too. He had to have followed him or known him personally. Either way he studied
his prey.”

Callen flipped through his notes. “He knew where Jeffrey Hopper went to get his truffles. We have his book of GPS locations. There were quite a few.”

“Ten,” added Elizabeth. “That’s too many to just randomly happen on the man in the spur of the moment and to take his life.”

“Agreed,” said Blackhawk. “I know that no one wants to toss this out there, but does that sound like any stories commonly told on the Rez to little kids?”

Wyler answered from his seat. “Sounds like a skinwalker to me. They hunt, stalk and then wear the skin animals to gain their spirit.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Not you now too, Dad!”

He simply laughed and winked at her. “I’m old school, Sweetheart, and I grew up with Timothy’s stories. I don’t overlook anything. When you sit out in the hunting grounds all night in the dark, you hear and see things.”

Ethan didn’t discount anything either. Not because he believed it existed, but he understood someone that was crazy could
rationalize it easily. “Let’s look at some of the symbolism for these killings. Mutilation isn’t rare in serial killings. Look at some of the assignments we handled. Last time we were here, Duffy’s brother was dressing like a woman and defacing bodies.”

“He was a complete nut bag,” muttered Elizabeth.

“My point is, in his mind, Randy believed he was Susan and a woman. All I’m saying is that the person killing and leaving the feathers may also be a few bricks short of building.” Blackhawk stuck the pen behind his ear. “To him, he may believe he’s a skinwalker and this seems normal to him, with it escalating from animal pelts to human skin.”

“
Total wackadoos,” Elizabeth replied. “His building is missing a few walls and a roof too.”

“If you look all around the world, skinning a victim is rare mutilation. In the mind of the killer there’s a reason why he’s doing it. If I were going to analyze it, I’d go with the
metaphorical. He’s pulling the outer layer back to reveal what’s beneath the part we see.”

Julian thought about that. “Are you saying he’s trying to
tell us something?”

He nodded. “Our skin hides what’s beneath
, and he’s baring the truth we haven’t seen until now.”

Elizabeth stared at her husband. “I don’t know if I should be impressed with that
, or scared that one of the men I love is on the crazy train with the killer.”

Blackhawk laughed. “Anyway, then you have part two, which is even more symbolic and telling.”

“Next station, Nutsville, with a population of unknown,” she said, winking at her husband.

He ignored her and continued. “He actually hung up the skins like they were freshly laundered linens.”

Everyone stared at him.

“Okay, he’s cleaning up. The laundry-
esque scene was meant to tell us that there’s been something revealed and hung out to dry.”

“You’re brilliant!” stated Tori.

Elizabeth smacked herself on the forehead. “Come on! Don’t tell him that! He’ll get an ego!” There was no doubt in her mind why he was the standard of excellence in profiling. Elizabeth may bust him, but she was damn proud.

Blackhawk laughed. “I manage to figure things out, and let’s leave it at that.” He winked at his wife.

She grinned wickedly and mouthed back ‘
so very hot!’

“Anyway,” Ethan continued feeling a flush creep up his neck. “I’m going to state that the killer feels that he’s cleaning up a mess. We need to look at the first three deaths in order to solve the last four.”

“You think it had something to do with the council, don’t you,” stated Julian. “My dad was killed to eliminate him from the winning that seat.”

Elizabeth nodded. Once she’d heard that the other two victims were all tied
together, it made her believe it was the avenue they needed to pursue. “I think it could be related.”

“I lost my dad over a job?”

Tori gently stroked his cheek. “I’m sorry, Jules,” she whispered in his ear. “I love you.”

He stared down at their joined hands
, overwhelming sadness filled him at what had been taken from him and why. It seemed so senseless.

“I need a list of the families that were left behind by the killing of Blake Littlemoon, Harold Runningbear, and Kevin Clark. We might have a family member that has a grudge and is trying to get us to open up the cases.”

“Why not just ask?” Rick Longtree inquired. “I would have opened them up if someone came to me. It was before my time, but I would have done the research and worked on it.”

Blackhawk shook his head. “You’re looking at an individual that feels like he’
s righting the wrongs. He started focusing on this and moved on to other things. The farmer dumping waste onto Rez land, a man that was stealing truffles for profit, and then you have Boyd and Duffy.”

“If that’s the logic
we’re following,” paused Tori, “what were their sins?”

Elizabeth thought about it.
“I think I can help with that. I’m not a genius like Ethan, but I do know my way around a crackpot.”

Whitefox snickered. “I hope that wasn’t a personal reference.”

She simply snickered. “The last two are connected. William Boyd was out poaching and drew the attention to the Rez. The killer was already taking care of business here, cleaning up the mess and the stolen animals put it all on the radar. Boyd caused the attention to be refocused on what was going down.”

“And Duffy?” inquired Julian.

Elizabeth glanced over at Callen. “Darlin’ who called in the FBI to mediate? Was it the council or the sheriff?”

Callen thought about it. “
Jimmy called Quantico and demanded help. Gabriel Rothschild called Ethan, requesting I handle it.”

She crossed her arms. “There’s your answer. Duffy called in the FBI
, and we’re putting the pressure on the killer.”

Neither man liked where this was heading.

“If that’s the case, we’re all in the killer’s crosshairs.” Julian said, dropping his arm around Tori’s shoulders protectively.

“Uh, news
flash Julian. He’s yet to kill a woman. You, Ethan and Callen are the more likely victims,” added Elizabeth.

The three men stared at each other,
each glad that their women were safe. The men would risk their lives, but not Elizabeth’s or Tori’s.

“Wow,
I didn't see all this coming,” stated Tori, squeezing Julian’s hand in fear.

Blackhawk
would like to say he was surprised, but he was well aware and had been since he started working on the profile.

Something ugly was brewing, and it was only a matter of time.

~ Chapter Seventeen ~

He sat outside the house that the FBI was calling their base, watching as the man entered. He drove up with files from his office to assist them in finding the killer. Rick Longtree was supporting the outsiders in hunting for him.

It had to be stopped.

This was inacceptable.

While he wanted the truth to come out about the past killings, and he wanted justice served
, this wasn’t in his plan. He was there to balance the scales of justice for his people- without interference.

Rick Longtree was betraying
them by just being there. There was a tiny twinge of guilt as he thought about removing the man’s skin and taking his life. After all, he was serving the community with his skills. He was a good leader and deserved his respect.

Yet, he had to end it.

It had to be done.

There was one way to absolve himself of the guilt. He’d allow the man to have a hint of what was to come, and maybe he’d be able to evade and stay one step ahead of him.

Maybe, but it was highly unlikely.

Sneaking to the man’s truck, he carefully tucked the feather under the windshield wiper in just the right spot. Then like the great skinwalkers, he slipped back into the darkness unobserved.

It was almost time, and as he rushed away he never noticed the gust of wind or the feather floating away to find a new home.

So much for a warning…

             
                            *   *   *

It had been a very long day at council. Everyone was stirred up and in a tizzy by the events. Half the members wanted to kick the FBI out, the other half needed them to stay and clear the native community of any wrong doing.

It was a precarious position to be in and every decision mattered.
There were days he wished to not be in charge and just another vote. This was his burden to carry.

Walking into his
cabin, something didn’t feel right. There was a negative energy surrounding the place and immediately, he went on alert.

“Who’s here?” he shouted
, staring around in the darkness. Walking to the nearest light, he flicked on the lamp and scanned the room. Horror filled him, making him want to retch right there.

“Oh no!” he muttered, taking in the blood soaked clothing, artfully lying across his furniture.
It looked like bodiless visitors had come to visit. Across each set of clothing sat a white feather, dripping in blood.

“No!” he tried to back from the room, but when he turned he saw the words scrawled on the wall in dripping gore.

The truth is out. Everyone will know
what you’ve done.

There was no longer a choice, now that the past had crept back up from the deep recesses of time. There would be hell to pay, and he had one opportunity to decide who’d be his judge, jury and executioner. There was no way he’d let the outsiders take him from his home.

They were his sins and he’d decide his fate.

Sitting down to the desk, he scrawled out his last will and testament and a goodbye to those he left behind.

When it was done, he dressed in his regalia and made his ultimate sacrifice
, knowing that karma had caught up with him.

His life was exchanged in hopes of passing into the afterlife, forgiven, absolved
, and pardoned.

             
                            *   *   *

Elizabeth was absolutely horrified that either of the men in her life could be a victim. Glancing over at Tori, she saw the same exact revulsion and finally spoke.

“The three of you go nowhere
alone. Are we clear?” She wasn’t going to risk them. “Julian you stick with Tori non-stop, and you both are not leaving my sight. I’m not even kidding. I can’t handle either one of you getting abducted,” she pointed at Callen. “I’m getting too old to be chasing you through the woods trying to save you from a sicko with a skin fetish.”

“Hey! Why are you pointing at me and not him too!” he exclaimed, laughing.

“I recall the last time we had this conversation in this town, it was you that got yourself abducted by a cross dressing nut bag that wanted to cut out your damn heart,” Elizabeth stated. “You’re the green one most likely to be lured away.”

Blackhawk snickered and talked in a creepy voice. “Want to help me find my kittens little boy?”

He took a punch to the ribs from his brother.

“I’m dead serious. You go NO WHERE without me or paired up.” She pointed at Julian. “Are you going to argue?”

“If I say yes, will you handcuff me to Tori and lose the key?” he grinned, lecherously.

“You laugh it up. I’ll handcuff the three of you together,” she stated, pointing at th
e men. “You won’t be all giggly then when you’re walking around attached to two men, now will you?”

“She’ll do it,” warned Blackhawk, laughing.

Wyler sat in the corner and was concerned. “Lyzee Sweetheart, if they disobey, I’ll hurt them for you.” The last thing he wanted was to bury one of his boys.

“Thanks Dad.” For once it was nice to have back up
against the twosome.

Blackhawk walked to his wife
, pulling her against him. He kissed her softly on the neck and whispered reassuring words in her ear. When she nodded and looked into his eyes, he knew she’d calm down. “Let’s talk about the man’s physical attributes.”

Elizabeth didn’t have the words yet to talk. Her heart was still pounding in her chest at the mere idea they could be hurt.

Callen held out his hand, offering her support. Gently, he pulled her to the couch and she fell into his lap. He kissed her softly, promising her they’d both be fine.