No Ordinary Killer (30 page)

“Oh, I’d say he was about the same height as Cooper.”

“Nice job, Pete,” Cooper said, sitting back down.
“Matter of fact that was superb.”

“Was there anything peculiar about him, say an accent
or a smell?” Arnott asked, leaning forward on the chair.

“No, I don’t think so. He seemed calm and that worried
me more than anything. He was calm, cool, and collected as they say. It was
like he had it all planned right down to the—“

“How about when Pete drove away?” Arnott interrupted.

“Now that was a different story. I was afraid he was
going to kill me on the spot. He kicked the front door and threw his gun on the
floor, I think. He paced for a couple of minutes and the next thing I heard was
the house garage door open and close. Then silence. He was gone and within
minutes you appeared.”

“Is there anything else you think we should know?
Oww!” Cooper jumped.

“Oh, sorry. Did that hurt?”

“Just a little. Please tell me I don’t need stitches.”

“If this wasn’t so old, I’d say yes. But I wouldn’t do
it now. I’m going to shave around the cut and butterfly it together. I’ll put
some antibiotic ointment on the wound and we’ll hope for the best. You’re going
to live, Mr. Reynolds.”

“That’s good to hear.” He couldn’t help liking Betty
Winslow.

“See, I told you Mrs. Winslow was good,” Pete
swallowed his cookie. “Umm … did this guy come to the house and knock on the
front door or was he waiting for you or what?”

“Oh, that was strange. I was driving up the lane when
he came out from the tall bushes by the drive and pointed a gun at me. He
seemed surprised it was me, now that I think about it. I didn’t see his car or
anything. That’s when I decided to pull into the middle of the garage.”

“Are you usually home this time of day?” Arnott asked,
grabbing a cookie from Pete.

“Well, now that you mention it, no. We had an
emergency early this morning and I was called in. So I finished my shift
earlier than usual. I knew Jamie was getting a ride from school with Pete, so I
came home.”

Arnott stood. “I’ll be da—darned. He was expecting the
kids and not you. He had to change his plan on the spot. Cool and collected you
said?”

“It seems to me this guy has some training. Maybe
military or maybe police. He’s been taught to stay calm and think on his feet.”
Pete opened the refrigerator and pulled out the milk. “You mind, Mrs. Winslow?”

“Pete, you little jerk. That is not how you ask for
something. Try again.” Cooper blinked as the cleanup on his head smarted.

“Oh, may I have some milk, Mrs. Winslow?”

“You sure may. The glasses are—“

Pete had the glass down before she could finish her
sentence. Cooper shook his head and considered giving up. Manners should be his
father’s department. ”Do you and Jamie have some place you two could spend a
couple of days? At least until the dust settles on this situation?”

“I have a sister in California. We’ve been trying to
go visit her for the past two years. But, I’ll be honest … we really can’t
afford to go.”

“I’ll strike a bargain with you. You take Jamie and
Pete to California and we’ll see about having the department spring the costs.
We can’t take the chance this guy might come back and I don’t think we can
protect you.”

“Whoo hoo! California … right on!”

“You settle down right now, Pete. You’ll stay around
your friends every minute of the day tomorrow. You’ll not stay in the locker
room or showers alone. You’ll quarterback the game tomorrow night and then
you’ll leave with Jamie, like any other Friday night. The only difference will
be is that you’ll meet up with her at the airport and you’ll fly out on the
eleven-fifteen flight. You’ll not let on that you’re excited … other than for
playing the game. You will not tell a single friend you are going to California
with your girlfriend. Do I make myself clear?”

 
“Perfectly,
Uncle Cooper. I do recognize the seriousness of this situation. I kinda lost my
head there for a second. You can count on me to protect Mrs. Winslow and Jamie.
Honest, you can.”

Cooper stood and slapped Pete on the shoulder. “I know
I can count on you. I saw how you handled yourself today. I’m going to rely on
you and trust you can handle this like a man. You’re almost a college guy now
and that means it’s time to buck up and take things a bit more serious. We on
the same page, Pete?”

“Sure are. I won’t let you down. We should probably
get some pre-paid cell phones. They can’t be traced. If this guy is as smart as
I think, then we need to consider all angles.”

“That’s good thinking, Pete,” Arnott said. “Along that
line, we need to get a couple of IDs made up with names that won’t lead the
killer to California. I’ll get right on that when we get back to the station.”

“Pete, I’m going to share one more thing with you.
This is classified information and it’s imperative you believe this. It’s our
belief that someone … a detective … possibly even a friend … well—“

“Come on, Uncle Cooper. Spit it out. Either you trust
me with this information—or you don’t.”

“You’re right. And I do, but it’s really hard to say
it. Dallas and I believe this serial killer we’re after is a member of our
police department. He has access to our database and forensic results. He knows
where we are, what we are working on, and—“

“And everything he needs to set your Uncle Cooper up
as the killer. No matter what you hear or happens, remember he’s being framed.
We are doing what we can to discover his identity. We just haven’t been able to
figure out his motive or catch him in any mistakes. But it’s just a matter of
time.”

“Is that why Dallas was shot and you were clobbered?”

“You could say that,” Cooper pulled his fingers
through his hair and stopped before reaching the newly created bald spot.

“So the killer comes here to kidnap Jamie and me
because he wants to blackmail my dad. You can have the kids in exchange for the
location of where Cooper and Dallas are hiding. Or, send out an APB on Cooper
Reynolds for the suspected kidnapping and possible murder of Agent Dallas
Fortune. If he believes you’re dead, he’s still trying to discredit you and all
you stand for. Maybe he knows you’re alive and just wants you to think you have
the upper hand.”

“You’ve got a point there, Pete.”

“Who could hate you this much? You need to check back
to your birth and compare everything forward. This guy is paying you back for
something you’ve done to him. Are you and Aunt Candy adopted like Uncle Paul?”

“I think we’re getting a bit off-track here?” Arnott
said, sitting back down.

“I don’t,” Dallas said, moving slowly to the table.

“Hey, what you doing up. I wanted you to sleep,”
Cooper quickly grabbed a chair and slid it next to his, then helped her sit.

“I would most likely be sound asleep but my empty
stomach won’t let me. I think someone ate my hotdog.”

“Oh, yeah, about that,” Cooper swallowed and grinned.

“It’s okay,” she looked around the room and settled on
Betty. “You must be Jamie’s mom. Glad to see you’re okay. Cooper will have to
fill me in later. Could I—”

 
“I’m Betty and
how would you like me to fix you a nice ham and Swiss cheese on rye with some
chicken soup?”

“Oh, you are an angel. I would love that.”

“Cooper, Josh, and okay, Pete, you guys, too?”

The resounding hell yes caused a unison laugh. Cooper
leaned toward Dallas and said, “Your shoulder looks great. Betty cleaned and
bandaged it back up for you. She fixed my wound and now we’re both shipshape.”

“Not exactly shipshape, but definitely better than you
were before coming here,” Betty said.

“Thank you.” Dallas rubbed her arm. “Let’s get back to
the case. Pete, what you were saying is exactly the direction I’ve been going.
Facts are what we’re missing. The killer knows something you don’t know,
Cooper. In most cases a serial killer has an issue with his father or his
mother.”

“Maybe the killer was adopted and feels deserted by
his parents. Or maybe his adoptive parents were mean or abusive,” Pete offered.

“Paul was adopted,” Cooper said, glancing at Dallas.

“That didn’t show up in my report. You told me about
his … um … you know this is a discussion we can’t have here. Its classified
information and best kept that way. Pete, you ever consider directing your
future to profiling? It’s my observation you’d be perfect for it.”

“I’m leaning toward forensics school.”

“I’d look into profiling, too. You’re a natural.”

“Won’t hurt to check it out. Maybe I’ll do a
double-major. There isn’t such a thing as knowing too much. Both majors would
complement the other.”

“I like the way you think, Pete. If you need some
guidance just give me a call or if you need a referral, just give them my
name.”

“Thanks, that’s really cool, Miss Dallas.”

 
Cooper stood,
then sat back down. He almost suggested they leave when he caught a whiff of
chicken soup. “That smells so good my stomach is grumbling.” He glanced at
Arnott and didn’t miss the dark warning it contained.

“Josh, you should know the killer believes the two of
us are dead. We contacted Gulchinski and he suggested we stay at his house.”

“What about Molly? Won’t you be putting her in
danger?”

“She’s in Wisconsin for about a week. Gulchinski was
going to get a message to you and Maxwell on the low-low to meet us at his
house. It won’t seem strange since you often get together there. We really need
to go over the cases and see if we can make some sense out of it all. It wasn’t
my intent to keep you out of the loop. I just couldn’t take the chance of
calling you. I’m sure your brooding helped convince the killer we haven’t shown
up yet. Where were you when Pete called?”

“Fortunately I was driving back from the Missouri
River crime scene. Hell, if I had been in the office I would have given you
away before you had a chance to tell me not to. Okay, I get it.”

Cooper turned his chair around and waited for Arnott
to help Dallas. She was all business and protocol.

“Either you or Maxwell need to take a couple of
snapshots of the crime scene board for Cooper and me to concentrate on. We
won’t be able to leave Gulchinski’s house, so that leaves us plenty of time to
concentrate on the facts.”

“What about the evidence bags you were taking to
Missoula?” Arnott took a bite of his sandwich. “This is so good.”

“Shit … shit … shit … shit. The pen. Cooper, that
bastard cleaned our pockets out. He took back the one piece of evidence that
could have proved your innocence.”

“What pen? What are you two talking about,” Arnott
asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m in deep shit, that’s what she’s talking about.”
Cooper dropped his sandwich and spoon. “If we don’t find some evidence that
will shed a shadow of doubt soon, I’ll be arrested for sure.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Megan pulled her nails through her hair and scratched
her scalp. She took a deep breath and typed.

He pressed his fingers into
her and she writhed and moaned.

“More, lover, more,” Michelle
pleaded from her aroused state.

He grabbed the water bottle
and shoved it into her. He covered her mouth roughly with his to stifle her
cries. She fought him and it excited him more than he ever imagined. He removed
the bottle and entered her.

“Stop it,” she cried. “You’re
hurting me.”

“Whore, I’m going to do a
whole lot more than that to you. I’m going to kill you.”

The full knowledge of what
was going to happen showed in her expression. “Please don’t hurt my baby.”

“Baby? Christ, you’re
pregnant?”

She nodded, and said, “Four
months. I’m afraid to tell my mother. It’s … it’s Neil’s baby but he doesn’t
want to get married. He wants me to get an abortion. I can’t kill—“

“Shut the hell up, whore.”
Her fear and helplessness gave him a shot of adrenaline. Bundy often spoke
about the power of dehumanizing the victim. “As the saying goes, you made your
bed.”

“I didn’t make my bed. If you
want to know the truth. I am a whore. My father made me his whore. I found out
I was pregnant and I started having sex with Neil. I didn’t want anyone to know
the truth. I wanted him to want me and love me … and take me away from my
father.”

“You made a choice and chose
trickery and lies. Why didn’t you go to the school counselors or even your
priest? You should have fried his ass. Instead you chose to be a whore. Who is
going to believe you now? And Neil will also pay.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’ll be charged and found
guilty for killing you. Now that you told me about your father, I’ll see that
he gets what is coming to him, too.” He tossed a towel off a row of prepared
items he needed. Like a surgeon, everything was ready.

“Please don’t do this. It’s
not Neil’s fault. Pin my murder on my father. It’s the only way to protect my
little sister.”

“That’s really noble of you.
I see a bit of the Michelle I once knew in that comment. Did you ever consider
confiding in me?”

“He said if I told anyone
he’d visit my sister’s room. She’s only ten. I couldn’t let him do that to
her.”

“Why doesn’t your mother see
what’s going on? She must suspect something is wrong. You’ve changed so much.
You used to be something special. Now you’re no different than any of them. You
wiggle your ass around advertising what you are willing to give away. You show
off your tits like they’re trophies. You disgust me.”

“It wasn’t my choice or my
fault. I told my mom, but she said I misunderstood and exaggerated his love.
She told me never to speak of it again to her or to anyone else. She accused me
of trying to destroy our family. I never said another word after that.”

“That was your mistake. Doing
nothing is making a choice. You could have exposed the whole disgusting ordeal.
Instead you allowed your daddy to come to you and … I don’t even want to think
about it. It disgusts me. You disgust me.”

He reached over and picked up
the rope and slid it around her neck and tightened it before mounting her
again. He stared into her blue, teary eyes. She moaned and choked against him,
it surprisingly heightened his response. Finally, she lay limp beneath him. Her
features returned to the innocent, sweet girl he once cared about. She lay
unconscious and he couldn’t keep from smiling.

In true Bundy style, he had
more work to do. Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, he reached down and
plucked free several attached strands of pubic hair and placed them in a small
baggie. He then flipped open his lighter and burned away the rest of her smelly
bush. It was the root of her evil and there was no chance of finding any of his
hair entwined in hers. Of course he’d conveniently leave a couple strands of
hair from both her and her killer beneath her buttocks when the scene was
setup. The stench caused involuntary gagging. He swallowed it down, making sure
he didn’t leave a single trace of DNA on her body.

He polished her nails bright
green. Taking his time, he slipped fishnet stockings up over her shapely legs,
fastening them with garters. He would not give the whore panties. He guided her
arms through the straps of a nearly cupless underwire bra and brushed her hair
into a tight ponytail.

When he had finished, her
makeup reflected the whore she was. Dark eyeliner, glittery purple eye shadow
from lid to eyebrow and bright red lipstick. She was ready for transport. Like
Bundy, he’d selected the burial site beforehand. Different from Bundy, he
performed most of his sadistic fantasy at a killing sight. There was a lesser
chance of finding DNA if a victim was killed at one sight and dumped at a
second.

“I have more in-store for
you, Michelle love,” he whispered near her ear.

He arrived at the fire
warden’s cabin just before dark. In early fall there were limited visitors at
Garnet’s Ghost Town. Kids were back in school and vacationers were few and far
between. This was the perfect place for Michelle. The main reason was Neil gave
an English report on the ghost town when they were freshmen.

He’d considered leaving her
in the old saloon, but he didn’t want wolves moving her body from its intended
position. This year was unseasonably warm, still in the eighties during the
day. It wasn’t unusual for temps to drop in the thirties at night. The
mountains were unpredictable.

Having placed Michelle’s body
on a clean blanket, before tying it secure with ropes for transport, he now
lowered her to the old wood floor of the cabin. There was a startling chill to
the air that made him shiver. He wanted her again, but refrained for fear of
leaving trace evidence. He untied the ropes and stared at her. He could almost
envision her innocent smile and shy response. A deceiver is what she was. Coy,
alluring, cunning, and above all false-hearted. She would get what she
deserved.

What would Bundy do? He’d
follow his plan to punish the offender. It was said Bundy had an uncanny
ability to disassociate himself from the actual crimes he committed. That meant
he could do the deed without thinking about the gruesomeness of the task.

Withdrawing an eight inch
Bowie hunting knife from a bag, he drew in a deep breath. His plan was to
remove both her breasts and take them with him, even possibly eat them. He
became fascinated with cannibalism after reading about Dahmer’s exploits. He
associated most with Ted Bundy though.

While lost in thought, he’d
snapped each of her fingers back from the joint. He smiled, then sliced the
middle finger free and shoved into her vagina. In one quick motion he cut-off
her ponytail and tossed it into the old, cold fireplace.

Clenching his teeth, he
pressed the knife into Michelle’s abdomen and left. That final act screamed at
motive.

Without expecting anything
different, Neil Sands was tried as an adult for the repugnant first degree
murder of Michelle Rice and found guilty. He was sentenced to life in prison
without the possibility of parole.

Michelle was his first
murder, and he’d gotten away with it. Had Bundy felt this way after his first kill?
Thus began his thirst for homicide investigations. He focused on forensic
evidence from real crime shows and books, adjusting his activities to avoid
apprehension. He’d entered the police academy with more knowledge about
criminal personality profiling and forensic evidence than the average graduate
possessed.

He worked hard to find worthy
prey. Bundy had said a similar thing in an interview with Supervisory Special
Agent Bill Hagmaier, in the years following his conviction in 1989. Hagmaier
stated, “Bundy thought of himself as a predator. He liked the hunt as much as
the kill and he selected what he called ‘worthy-prey’. It was the thrill of the
hunt and the challenge. It was competitive for him in a heinous way.”

He memorized those words and
considered them the mantra for his direction in life.

Exhausted, Megan hit the send button and leaned back
in her chair. She’d finished the book in three days of near non-stop writing.
She hadn’t seen or heard from Dennis, and it worried her. Finding another man
to take his place would be easy. Even the hunt for a lover would be fun and
entertaining. But she would miss Dennis. He stimulated her mind as well as her
body.

She needed a break. Megan grabbed the house phone and
dialed zero.

“What can we do for you, Miss Reynolds?”

“I’d like a tray of mixed cheeses, sausages, and
crackers. A nice chilled bottle of chardonnay and a bowl of strawberries. I’m
going to soak in the tub, so just have someone leave them in the parlor for
me.”

“Certainly, Miss Reynolds. We’ll take care of it right
away. Would there be anything else?”

“No … um, yes. Have you noticed a guy in a dark hoody
standing across the street staring up at my suite?” Megan immediately regretted
asking.

“Obviously we have not. We would have called the
police had we noticed. Is he out there right now? Which window was he
watching?”

“Never mind. It was probably my imagination. I get
jumpy when I write about serial killers. I’ll leave my door locked. I’m sure
you have a key that will allow you to leave the tray.”

“Most certainly. If it would make you feel better, I’d
be happy to call the police and have them keep an eye on the place.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Megan rubbed her eyes with
her thumb and index finger.

“If it would make you feel safer, I’d be happy to do
it.”

“I don’t want the fucking police called,” she said,
then hung up without a simple bye. The woman had a way of being so helpful it
became annoying.

Megan double-checked the front door lock, then headed
for the bathroom. She turned on the faucet and added a generous sprinkle of
Moonlight Walk bath salts. She tied her hair into a tight ponytail and
stripped.

She slid into the warm haven and switched on the water
jets. Leaning back into the terry headrest, Megan closed her eyes and relaxed.

It wasn’t until the cold water interrupted her sleep
that Megan snapped alert. She pulled the plug on the tub, slid the shower
curtain in place, and turned on the water as hot as she could tolerate. Even a
simple soaking turned into a disaster. Megan didn’t like the direction her life
was going. Now that this book was finished and she made certain her family was
safe, she was taking a long cruise to relax and get away from it all.

Megan slipped into the plush robe and slippers before
heading to the parlor. She stretched out on the sofa and curled her legs under
her, then placed several snacks on a plate. The server had already poured her
first glass of wine.

She sipped a good half before taking a bite of
cracker, cheese and smoked salami. She absently ate and drank while mulling
over whether she’d delved too deep into the mind of her killer. This kind of
thing always fascinated her. But there was a shocking difference between
imagining the character of a serial killer opposed to actually talking with
one. Megan poured herself another glass of wine.

What struck her most surprisingly, was his powers of
manipulation. He threatened horrible consequences void emotion. This
disconnection seemed more of a protection than personality. She could tell he
loved the game. He was a good character study, giving her incredible insight
that she used in her book.

The tray of food waivered slightly. Megan took a long
sip of wine and leaned back. She needed … a break … maybe Neil could go … she
shook her head and blinked, but everything blurred. Megan reached over to set
the wine glass on the table … and missed it….
 

* * *

Dallas glanced around before making her way to Pete’s
Jeep. Cooper remained silent, but she heard his footsteps closely behind. She
waited for him to open the door and help her climb into the back seat,
hunkering down low. He moved in next to her and closed the door.

“We headed to my house?” Pete turned the corner and
reached for his ringing phone. “Hi, Dad,” he said, then handed the phone to
Dallas. “He wants to talk to one of you.”

“What’s up?” she asked, adjusting the phone so Cooper
could hear.

“The truck you guys parked in Ulm was gone when the
guys went to pick it up.”

“No possible way. How could the killer possibly know—“

“Tracking device. Damn, we don’t have to play dead
anymore. He knows right where we are.” Cooper shook his head.

“Not exactly,” Gulchinski snapped.

“Someone drove out of those woods, but that doesn’t
mean it’s both of you. The way I see it, this guy is good. He sends a couple of
rookie kids to finish you off. He really doesn’t think they’ll figure things
out and will definitely set off that bomb.”