Page 40 of Red Snow
“THIS IS FUCKINGridiculous. Look at all the vultures out here trying to get a picture of a severed head. Fucking assholes.” I adjust in my seat as Marcus pulls up to the Alaskan Bush Company strip club. The parking lot is covered with vehicles from the police and forensics teams. Everyone walking around is either a cop or a reporter. Across the street, there are multiple reporters standing in front of cameras with mics in front of their faces. They’re explaining to all of Anchorage what’s happening in their city—a murderer is on the loose, and they’re calling him the Snowman Killer.
“That name sounds stupid. It makes it sound like there’s a guy going around killing snowmen,” Marcus complains as he puts the cruiser in park and looks around at the crowd of people surrounding the strip club.
“Well, you can’t call him justthe snowman, because then it sounds like there’s a snowman walking around cutting people’s heads off,” I tell him, wondering why we’re even having this conversation. “The fact that they’ve given the killer a nickname at all is enough to get on my fucking nerves. Let’s go see what we’ve got out there.”
We get out of the cruiser and walk towards the crowd, crossing the crime scene tape heading towards the back of the club, where a fenced in area is packed tight with people. It’s obviously staff parking, and inside, I see Danielle waiting with her arms folded. She’s wearing a thick black jacket that hangs down to her knees, and she has the hood over her head, giving her a grim reaper look. The clouds have decided to snow on us again, and the frozen precipitation has already started adding to the four inches that fell last night. As we approach her, I wonder to myself if the killer is waiting for it to snow so he can make these little macabre statues, or if it’s irony.
“You see how insane this has gotten?” Danielle snips as we reach her. “One fucking reporter gets a shot and now every newspaper and reporter is here. The pressure to catch this bastard is about to go through the roof, so get ready for everything that comes with that. Let’s go.”
Danielle leads us through a small crowd of forensics people who have already started snapping pictures and collecting evidence. If this scene is anything like the last one, I know there won’t be much evidence to collect. Once we’re through the sea of people, I see the snowman setup next to a Ford F-150 in the back corner of the parking lot. It looks just like the one from the elementary school, but it’s smaller, more than likely because there’s a little less snow on the ground.
I have to fight back gagging, but when I get close to the scene, I see the head was obviously cut off with the same instrument used to cut off Brenda Cox’s head, which is probably some sort of saw. The woman’s eyes have been gouged out just like before. She has a short haircut, and similar facial features to Brenda. Something is too familiar about all of this. It’s not just the snowman setup, but the victim is familiar too.
“So, this is it. Same as before,” Danielle says as I half-listen. “Her name is Britney Cruz, she’s twenty-seven, and she’s worked here as a stripper for a year. One of the ladies discovered the body this morning. Her name’s Dakota, and she’s waiting inside for you to interview her. The owner is also in there. There’s no possible way this is a different guy from the first body we found like this, which means we’re looking at a potential serial killer now. Do what you do.”
“The killer has an MO,” I say to Marcus immediately.
“What are you talking about?” he replies as Danielle listens as well.
“Let me see that picture you have of Brenda Cox,” I tell Marcus. He hands it to me and I immediately see the similarities between Brenda and our newest victim.
“Look at this,” I explain. “Look at this haircut. Same short cut, same round facial features.”
“It’s a bob,” Danielle chimes in. “Good observation, Jarrod.”
“Could be a coincidence,” Marcus says, making sure not to jump to conclusions.
“Could be, but I doubt it,” I answer as I lead him back over to the body. “Look at that. Same hair, same round face, same weapon used to cut off the head, same snowman setup, and look at the bottom,” I point to the mound underneath the snowman. “Thick red snow. Just like last time, the rest of her body is under there. It’s all the same. This killer has an MO, and there has to be a reason behind it. The scenes being setup the same is one thing, but the victims looking like they could be mother and daughter is different. I think he’s got a thing for this bob haircut. He likes this look. Or hates it.”
“I can see that,” Marcus agrees as he pulls out his notepad and writes it all down. “Any chance of cameras inside?”
“No way,” Danielle answers. “It’s a strip club. Best case scenario, you have one pointing at the bar, but that’s going to be it. However, there may be one out here. That’s a good question for the owner when you get to him. Alright, you guys got this. Make sure I’m updated at the end of the day.” Danielle nods to both of us, making sure to linger on me a moment longer than she did Marcus, before strutting away, ignoring reporters on her way out.
We’ve been through this once before, so Marcus and I make sure to tell the forensics team leader to be meticulous in their collection of evidence, and be careful when they uncover the rest of Britney’s body under the snowman. While they handle things at the scene, Marcus and I head inside to interview the woman who found Britney, and her boss.
Dakota is a tall black woman with blonde hair that doesn’t go well with her dark skin. I have to fight the urge to stare at her huge, obviously fake tits, but I manage.
“I came in to open up, and when I pulled in, I saw her there. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, since it was in the back of the staff parking and I parked in the front, so I moved in closer and saw. I almost passed out.” Dakota still looks distraught as she takes a shot of Patron to calm herself.
Sitting next to her is Donald Blasick, the owner of Alaskan Bush Company for the past ten years. He’s a rich old white guy with a thick, year-round beard and a distended belly that makes him look like a motorcycle Santa Claus.
“I got here after Dakota did,” he explains in a husky voice that matches his body perfectly. “When I pulled in, she showed me what she’d found and we just waited for the cops to arrive. That was the extent of my involvement.”
“Were you here last night?” Marcus asks the owner. “Did you see anything suspicious? Did Britney have any problems with any customers that you’re aware of?”
“Not that she told me,” Donald answers. “Usually, if something happens that isn’t a big deal, something that doesn’t involve getting security, it won’t get back to me. If something happened, she didn’t feel it was big enough to alert anybody. Guys can get pretty handsy in here, so we get security involved pretty often to keep that shit to an absolute minimum, but we didn’t have anything like that go on last night.”
“Okay, what about cameras?” I interrupt.
“We don’t have any in here,” Donald replies, stroking his beard. “There was one outside, but it shit the bed and I didn’t feel the need to have it replaced. Kind of wishing I would’ve gotten it replaced now. We could’ve seen who did this.”
“Yeah, that would’ve been nice, wouldn’t it?” I snip.
The rest of the interview goes about as well as you’d expect from two people who know absolutely nothing. No new information, no evidence pointing to anyone in particular, no leads to follow, no reason to be suspicious of either of them. Nothing at all. Just a bunch of words that I’ll have to put on paper later in their official statements. When Marcus and I get back in the cruiser after six hours at the scene, we’re in the same place we were before we ever heard about the second murder.
“What a fucking day,” Marcus says as he puts the car in drive and heads for HQ. “I’m feeling a little stuck. My brain needs to take a break from all of this shit.”
“I hear you. I didn’t expect to feel like we were still at square one,” I say as I look at Marcus and see him rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. He looks as exhausted as I feel. “Hey, let me handle the paperwork tonight, and I’ll update Danielle.”
