Page 37 of Good Girls Don't Cry

It had been a strange case. They’d discovered old graves and then new ones appeared at Halloween. All seemed to be murdered by the same man. She perused the files and scanned the reports that Norrell had uploaded about the previous victims. The bodies had been there for some time, as long as seven years and as the MO was exactly the same, they had naturally presumed that the killer had been restricted from killing between the old and recent murders. One main thing that linked the murders together was the old phones left in each grave site. Each phone had the previous murder recorded on it. She scratched her head. How did the copycat know about the phones? One of the graves had been empty and they assumed that the original killer had been disturbed. His last kill never eventuated. But what if that grave had contained a victim after all, and the copycat killer removed the body and the phone from the grave to use in his first victim’s burial? It was possible but not something they had considered because at that time they didn’t know a copycat killer had been involved.

Her phone chimed. It was Kane. “Is there a body?”

“Nope.” Kane’s face appeared on the screen. “Rio has videoed the entire scene and taken still shots, but I’ll walk you through.” He turned the phone around to capture the blood-soaked bathroom and the message. “It’s identical. Although the message is in lipstick and there’s not one here. He must have taken it with him.” He turned the phone back around. “We’re done here and have collected everything we need. Wolfe has just arrived with his team. He’s armed and so is Webber. We’ll come by and grab the trail bikes and head into the forest.”

The horrific scene looked surreal on a phone screen. She had tried to take in all the details. “Okay. The blood looks fresh, so you might be close behind him. Make the guys wear their Kevlar vests just in case the killer is still hanging around.”

“I’m on it.” Kane disconnected.

On a hunch, Jenna called Kalo. “Bobby, can you go back seven years and see if any of our suspects were in jail?”

“I’ve checked them all out. Apart from the time they’ve done in Montana, they’re clean.”

Pushing hair behind her ears, she thought for a beat. “Okay, then can you do a search across the US and see if any crimes match the Freya Richardson case going back, say, fourteen years?”

“I can but it will take time, and I know you don’t have time.” Kalo’s chair squeaked as he moved from one computer to another on his desk. “I’ll set it up and see what comes up. I’ll broaden the parameters as well, just in case the bodies were never found.”

Jenna smiled. She admired Kalo’s expertise. “Thank you so much.”

It took some time before the crime scene files appeared on the server. Jenna watched the video and then scrolled through the photos. She had the previous crime scene images open and ran them parallel to the new ones. She swallowed hard. Who had died here? Chloe Bennett or Olivia Cooper? The attack in the bathroom, the lack of footprints apart from the victims, the imprint of where a towel had lay over the blood. It was identical. They’d assumed the killer had entered the house when the victim was in the shower, stripped off to murder them, and then showered away any evidence. He used a bunch of towels to prevent any footprints and wiping up any others he might have left during the stabbing. The towels were never found. The bodies wrapped and taken away to be buried in the forest. The worst thing was that he recorded the murders but didn’t bury them with the victim—no, he buried the recording of the previous victim’s death with the body. Copies of the audio files were discovered at the killer’s home—but now they knew the new killings were copycats.

A knock on the door announced Maggie. She walked inside with three women and introduced them. She handed Jenna their statements. “Thanks, Maggie.” She looked at the three ashen-faced women. “Please take a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?”

All three shook their heads. Jenna glanced over the statements. As usual, Maggie had been thorough. Each one stated the time of the incident and the exact movements up to discovering the blood-spattered bathroom. They’d even included the weather. She looked up at the women. “Okay. Just a few questions.” She directed her first questions to the Realtor. “Ms. Furlich, how many people knew the house was open for inspection this morning?”

“Any amount. It’s on our website, but we ask for anyone interested to call me first so I can give them a guided tour.” Barb frowned. “I didn’t want a rush of people arriving and not being able to supervise them properly.”

Jenna moved her attention to the other women. “As passengers in Ms. Furlich’s vehicle, I would assume you took in the surrounding scenery on the way to the property. Did either of you see anyone or a vehicle coming from the property?”

They all shook their heads. “When you went into the bedroom where you found the blood, did any of you touch anything? A door handle? Did you peek into the closet?”

“No, we didn’t touch anything upstairs.” Barb frowned. “I did notice the glass doors leading out back were open. I assumed I’d left them open the previous day. It’s not something I do. I check everything but I was running late. I needed to meet another client at a property in town, so I could have forgotten to close the door.”

Sorting through the statements, Jenna handed one to Barb Furlich. “If you can add that to your statement and sign it. We’ll make sure to check the door. Did you close it before you left the premises?”

“Yes, I did,” Barb looked mortified. “I closed it when we arrived.” She made the changes. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

After taking the statements and scanning them into the system, Jenna handed a copy back to each woman. “It’s okay, but we’ll need your fingerprints and a sample of DNA to use for elimination purposes. When you go back downstairs, Maggie will do it. The DNA swab is just from inside your mouth. It’s painless and simple.” She looked from one to the other. “You’ve all had a nasty shock. If you suffer any nightmares or flashbacks, please consult a medical professional. Thank you for your time today.”

The women stood and left the room. Jenna called Maggie and told her what she needed. She checked her watch. Kane should be at the gravesite by now. She leaned back in her chair, chewing on her bottom lip. Not being in the thick of the action was torture, as was waiting for information. Patience, in her case, wasn’t a virtue she enjoyed.

Forty-One

The Mine

Not knowing what was going to happen next was getting to Olivia. Early this morning the man had arrived carrying a plate of fresh hot pancakes drenched in butter and maple syrup. He’d made her stand against the wall and placed two cups of to-go coffee with the fixings on the small table in her cell, backed out without saying a word, and left. After hearing his footsteps die away in the distance, Olivia had fallen onto the food, eating it with relish. After wrapping the second to-go cup in her socks to keep it hot, she’d spent a long time sipping the coffee and licking every small trace of syrup and butter from the plate. Why was he being nice to her?

After he’d ordered her to take a shower the previous day he’d placed her in this cell. It was different from the others. It had a bed with clean sheets, a table and chair, and snack food on shelves. Although the walls were the same hewn rock, no damp dribbled down them and they were void of moss. After Chloe had left with him, she had lain awake most of the night waiting for him to return, not knowing what he had planned for her—but he hadn’t returned.

Her mind had been conjuring up what could be happening with Chloe. Where was she? Had he hurt her? Chloe had been so scared when she left, and her look of pure terror as he dragged her away chilled her to the bone. She didn’t believe she could ever get the image of her terrified face out of her mind. Being the last person locked inside this terrible place and having no one to talk to would drive her insane.

The other thing she had now was light in the form of a small battery-operated lantern. Shivering, she pulled a blanket around her shoulders and sat at the table sipping her coffee. She stared at her nails. She’d always had nice nails but now she’d bitten them down to the quick. She looked at the bloody stumps, regretting biting them as they were her only weapon. The past few days kept circling around in her mind. She had witnessed things so horrific no amount of counseling would ever remove them from her memory. That’s if she ever survived this place. No matter what the man told her, she wouldn’t believe him because if he’d released the others as he’d promised, one of them would have alerted the sheriff.

She scrubbed her hands down her face, and her heart pounded with the implications. There could be no escaping the truth. He’d killed them all and she’d be next.

Forty-Two

Stanton Forest

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