Page 99 of Last Girls Alive
“Well,” he said. “Would you like to see them?”
“Yes, please.”
Holmes left Katie and McGaven alone.
“I’m sorry,” McGaven whispered.
“For what? We’re running down leads. This phrase or description means something to the killer—we need to find out why. There are too many links that makes sense. We’re on to something here.”
McGaven took a seat on the antique couch and frowned. “Not too comfortable.”
“My dear deputy, those weren’t made for comfort and not someone of your stature either…” He held a small box. “Here they are.” Setting them down on the coffee table, he pulled out the first volume in the six-book series. “Here you go.”
Katie took the book and was surprised that it was small and thin with a brown cover and gold lettering for the title and author—it was only forty pages long. It was more like a pamphlet or short story, she thought. The four-by-seven-inch book had yellowing pages, so she was careful handling it as she began to read. She flipped to the front where it said:Abacus Publishing 1942 copyright. It also said that the previous year 1941 it had been published in Italian. That made sense about the Italian writing. The killer was beginning to make more sense to her, and seemed to have a thing for the Italian language.
Holmes gave McGaven the second book to look at, which was the same size.
“Wow, it’s more like a journal,” McGaven stated as he thumbed through the book.
Katie skimmed pages and read paragraphs, gleaning life sentiments and personal growing pains from the author—it was more appealing to teens and the younger generation. The main thing she figured out was that “Hunter-Gatherer” referred to being alienated and left to fend for himself. Hunter-Gatherer had been cited as being alone in this world, surviving mostly by hunting and fishing, and harvesting wild food. The obviously young author used the title as a metaphor for the growing pains of his young life.
“What do you think?” asked McGaven.
“I think we might be reading something that the killer feels is his memoirs.”
“You want to see more?” asked Holmes.
“Yes, please.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” said the host as he approached one of the bookshelves, opened a small box and retrieved a small flash drive. “I have the entire series scanned into computer files.”
“That would be fantastic, Mr. Holmes,” said Katie. “We’ll return it to you when our investigation is over.”
Holmes gave Katie the drive and said, “My dear, if you ever want to mingle at one of my mystery parties, you just let me know.”
“I will, thank you,” she said, slightly embarrassed by the invitation. “I have one more question for you.”
“Of course. Anything I can answer that might help.”
“Have you ever had anyone else refer to or ask you about Hunter-Gatherer, either at one of your parties, or anywhere else, for that matter?”
He paused. Katie wasn’t sure if it was for dramatic effect or not, but he appeared to contemplate the question, searching his mind. “No, not to my knowledge and I’ve heard a lot of people talk about obscure books in my day, but nothing rings a bell.”
Katie gave him the book back and pocketed the flash drive. “Thank you, Mr. Holmes, for taking the time to talk to us and lending us the digital copy.”
“My absolute pleasure,” he said, and was suddenly gone. Vanished like a magician after entertaining an audience.
Katie and McGaven were finally on the road back to the department. It was beginning to get dark and Katie was exhausted, but her mind wouldn’t shut off from all the information they had learned today.
“What the hell does all this mean?” asked McGaven.
Katie noticed that he was looking even more tired as the day went on. “There’s definitely some clues and similarities for our killer. We’re getting to know more about him, what makes him tick, but no closer to finding him.”
“We’re getting closer,” he said.
“So what we have right now is… A book series about the feelings of what it’s like navigating life as a teenager and feeling like you’re all alone. Mary Rodriguez had a new boyfriend by the named of Ray – the same name of the person who Candace Harlan left the foster home with. The author of some obscure book series by the name of Ray. Coincidence?” She sighed. “That’s what we need to find out.”
“Don’t forget that two of the county employees that worked at Elm House confirmed the problems, abuse, and unsettling incidents that took place,” McGaven added.
