Page 115 of Seven Deadly Sins

“Sexual assault?”

“We assume so.” Agent Preston crossed his arms. “Some were in the water for a few days.”

They had more on their guy than he’d thought. A physical description of a suspect. DNA, but the guy wasn’t in the system. Since all the women had been taken within a ten-mile radius, it was safe to say he lived in the area. “Have you closed the jogging trails?”

“Yep. Three happened at the same one. Care to take a drive?”

“Let’s go.” He grabbed his duffel bag off the desk. If they’d be walking, he’d need comfortable shoes.

The jogging trail had three different lengths. A mile, a mile and a half, or a three-mile. Most of the dump spots were closest to the three-mile. He changed shoes and followed the other agent.

“Watch out for the alligator when we reach Black Water pond. He got a dog a couple of years back.” Agent Young grinned his way. “My parents saw him once and gave him a wide berth.”

“Smart people.” Liam shifted his gaze from side-to-side. “Victims missing body parts?”

“The one dumped in the pond was missing a leg. The others were dumped in creeks or the frog pond. Too far for Draco to roam, I guess.”

The town had named the gator? Liam shook his head, hoping he didn’t see the creature and shoot it. That didn’t sound like a way to make friends.

“Found one here.” Agent Preston pointed to a thick patch of tall grasses near the water’s edge. “We think she might’ve been the first. She had the most water damage.”

Liam squatted near the place where yellow crime scene tape still fluttered. He studied a footprint embedded in the mud, preserved when the ground hardened.

“We took an imprint but got nothing.”

“This pattern looks like the shoe skateboarders like.” He straightened. “I think you’re looking for someone in their early-to-mid-twenties.”

“Not much older than a kid.”

“It’ll be someone who takes these trails on a regular basis. How long has the track been closed?”

“Over a week. Why?”

“Because there’s someone across the pond.” Liam unsnapped his weapon’s holster.

Preston did the same while slowly stepping behind a tree to take cover.

Liam did the same, then called out. “FBI. These trails are closed at this time.”

Nothing. Not even the twitter of birds.

“Show yourself.”

A bullet rang out, knocking bark from the tree he hid behind. Liam pulled his weapon, unable to see exactly where the shot had come from. “Anything?”

“Not yet. Why would he be here when there’s no joggers?”

“I think he’s homeless and lives here.” They’d invaded his home.

“Then, let’s get him so you can get back to that sicko you’re hunting. I’ll see if I can draw him out.” Preston fired.

Another shot rang out from the other side. Liam’s handgun wouldn’t shoot that far. The other man had to have a rifle. “Keep his attention on you. I’m going to try and get closer.”

Staying low, not an easy thing to do with most of the brush cleared from the area to prevent fires. He darted from tree to tree while Preston let off two shots every minute or so.

Pine needles muffled his footsteps. As he rounded the pond, he spotted the shooter hunkered down behind a log, rifle aimed in Preston’s direction.

The man pulled the trigger.

---