Page 64 of Serial Love

“Why are you looking for disciplinary records?”

“Hoping, just hoping that someone may have made acomplaint about him. If he got kicked out or warned, that could have taken him over the edge.”

Working quickly, the men set about their tasks.

Bethany walked through the lodge after checking out the last of the fishermen that had stayed. A bit flirty, but overall, a decent group this time. She looked back at the wall Jack had built. With its strong door and lock.Wow, how did Gram and I live here all alone for so long without any trouble?Stepping out of the back door, she turned to head to the shed. The door was open again, but as she stepped inside, she was pleased to see Roscoe bent over in the back, digging around in several boxes.

“Hey, what’re you looking for?” she asked.

He stood, quickly twisting his body to face her. “Oh,” he mumbled. “Startled me.” He stepped in front of the box he had been searching, saying, “Thought you were over at your man’s house.”

Glancing down at the box he seemed to be hiding, she replied, “I was, but I needed to be back here to get some work done this afternoon. Were you looking for something in particular?”

“Nah. Well, Mr. Malinski said there was some strange rattling coming from his bathroom. Figured it was a squirrel he heard, but he’s been saying that he never had that problem in cabin nine where he normally stays.”

Rolling her eyes, she nodded. “He always stays in cabin nine, at the back side of the pond, but he made hisreservation so late that it was already reserved. I told him it was now clean, and he could move his stuff in there as soon as he wanted.”

“You want me to go check out the vents in cabin seven?” Roscoe asked.

“That’s okay. I’ll do it, although the Taylors were just there again, and they didn’t complain. They always stay in that cabin because it’s close to the trails where their kids can play, but I guess Mr. Malinski just wanted to complain so that he could move. Why don’t you check the dock and see if the paddle boats are all tied up? I saw the Taylor boys out there yesterday.”

Nodding, Roscoe hesitated to leave so she turned and walked out ahead of him.First chance I get, I’m looking in that box!

Having grabbed her tool belt, she headed down the lane toward the offending cabin, still shaking her head at the thought of a rodent getting into creepy Mr. Malinski’s bathroom. Waving to a few of the guests, she got to cabin seven and knocked. She noticed his car was gone, so she let herself in.Hmm, so the vampire does go out during the day. At least to get himself moved to the cabin he prefers. Funny how guests often request the same cabin each time.

“Got a hit, boss,” Luke called out. The Saints’ eyes darted to the screen on the wall as Luke projected his findings.

“Twenty-six years ago, Stan Jefferson registered for classes at college. His name pops up in a campus policereport which never made it to the town’s police, hence no official record. A girl, Josie Simpkins reported that he stalked her and then kept asking her out. He never touched her, so the campus police just filed it and forgot it. The college has no record of him coming back after the first semester.”

“That’s awfully circumstantial,” Bart commented.

“Yeah, but get this. Josie Simpkins finished out the second semester and then did not come back either. She was from North Carolina and when I did a search on her…nothing. It was right at the end of the school year so the campus police weren’t involved.”

“Where is he now?” Chad asked.

Monty, using his FBI information, cursed, “Damn, Stan Jefferson just disappeared. Not using his social security number, no taxes, no employment.”

“Go with his middle name, any variation. Check his mom’s bank account and see if anyone has been putting money in it.”

The tension in the room grew with each minute that the men furiously tapped on their keyboards. Each focused solely on finding the killer before his urge came again.

“Got it,” Luke declared triumphantly. “Son of a bitch dropped his last name and is using his middle name as his last name.”

“Get everything. His address, where he works. Get into his bank account. I want to know where the hell he is right now,” Jack growled.

As soon as Bethany entered the bathroom of cabin seven, she could hear the sound.What is that?Listening carefully, it seemed to be a rattling in the air duct, as though there was a loose objectinside. Tossing her tool belt to the toilet seat, she pulled out a screwdriver and, standing on her tiptoes, she unscrewed the four screws holding the metal plate in place. Once it was down, she realized she was too short to see inside. Huffing, she walked back into the kitchen and picked up a chair, carrying it back into the bathroom.

As she climbed up onto the chair, she heard the front door close. “I’m back here, Roscoe,” she yelled. “In the bathroom.”

Turning toward the vent, she peered in.What on earth is that?“Roscoe, come here. I can’t tell what I’m looking at.”

Reaching her hand in, she pulled out a long, thin, slightly curved knife. She recognized what she was holding, having seen the fishermen washing their filet knives off when they came in from fishing. She stared at the pristine instrument in her hand, the fluorescent lights shining off its stainless surface.

But how did it get here?Her mind was still pondering that question when she looked back into the vent, seeing a glass jar further back. Squatting, she lay the knife down on the toilet seat along with her tool belt and then stood to stick her hand deep into the cavity. Grasping the glass jar, she pulled it forward.

Her hand shook as her mind tried to understand what she was holding. Little bones. “What the hell?” she said out loud to herself.Bones?A queasy feeling startedin her belly and slid upward toward her throat, threatening to choke her.

“They were all good girls,” someone said behind her.

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