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8:16 a.m.
Tall pines, marshland and small ponds surrounded Bodie Island Lighthouse. While a sight to behold, it wasn’t the most well-known lighthouse on the island. At one hundred fifty-six feet tall, its beams shone for miles at night. Ty had visited here before. He’d visited all the lighthouses growing up through fishing trips with his father. They always reminded him of massive black-and-white-striped candy canes.
Today, it was nothing more than a beacon of death. He’d forbidden Bexley to come. If this latest victim was Ahnah, Ty didn’t want her to see her this way. Ty didn’t want to see her this way either. A cold burn filled his body as he ingested the sight. The crime scene tape drew a crowd, and he, along with the team, was already scanning the area. The killer might be here in the throng of people, watching with giddiness and awaiting a reaction from Ty. He would give him nothing and braced himself to see the sweet little girl—now a woman—Ahnah Hemmingway.
No one would be allowed in except for the SCU, the medical examiner and the FBI’s Emergency Response Team, and anyone Asa said could cross the threshold. Increased foot traffic meant increased chances of compromising the scene.
Marsh grass rustled and the pines swayed as Ty gulped in the salty air with a hint of musk. White farming fence surrounded the lighthouse, visitor center and museum—which gave off farmhouse vibes.
But there, propped up at the entrance to the imposing lighthouse, was a naked woman. From here, her facial features were difficult to see. Her head rested against the door and her delicate left hand had been placed on her thigh, one ankle crossed over the other.
Brunette hair was piled in a tight bun on the top of her head. Milky eyes stared lifelessly. Her pale skin had been tattooed in multicolored flowers except her soles, palms and face.
Owen murmured a prayer, and Asa heaved a sigh. Violet moved closer to the body and knelt, staring at her from eye level. The wind picked up as if protesting this death, and the murmurs of the media floated on the increased force.
As Ty approached, he realized it wasn’t Ahnah. A weight lifted from his shoulders, and he let out a breath. While he was relieved it wasn’t the little girl he’d loved, the stark reality that this was someone’s loved one and they would receive no relief like Ty pressed against his rib cage. He had to get justice for these families. To at least give them closure.
“Any identification?” he asked.
Big Guns, as Ty had dubbed him, was on the scene.
Deputy Grady Dorn shook his head. “Not yet.”
“These tattoos are dahlias,” Violet said.
The name rang a bell. “Dahlia Anderson went missing over a year ago in Nags Head.” Explained the full-body coverage of tattoos. She’d been missing the longest. “She was on the list. Hold on.” He brought up the list with photos of each missing woman. There she was. Alphabetical order. “It’s her. It’s Dahlia Anderson.” He showed the team her photo. They’d still have a family member ID her.
Her flowers ranged from pink to orange to blue. Intricate and looking almost 3-D. Some had double blooms. Others were smaller—the ones by the neck like on Amy-Rose and Lily Hayes. “Not as many closed blooms on her as Lily Hayes but far less than on Amy-Rose.”
“I stand by my theory,” Violet said. “Open blooms mean she obeyed or acquiesced. Closed blooms reveal her rebellion.” She pointed to the note card nailed into her palm. “You want to do the honors?”
Not particularly, but Ty knelt and read the black lettering aloud for the team and Deputy Dorn, who was squinting, his head cocked, studying Ty.
I can only imagine how your heart thrummed in your chest as you approached my sweet Dahlia. It’s not Ahnah. That doesn’t mean the next one won’t be. I hold the power of life and death in my hands. That includes yours, Agent Granger. It also includes those you love. I know each and every one you hold dear. Get ready for more pain.
A reply wouldn’t form. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. Bexley. Josiah. Ahnah. “This cements what we suspected. He has Ahnah. He’s toying with us. With me.” He slammed a fist into his palm after promising himself he’d show no emotion in case the killer was watching, but the fury and fear were equal, hot and cold driving his reaction.
“We’ll get him. We will,” Owen insisted.
“She isn’t crudely posed,” Violet said, “which reiterates this wasn’t sexual in nature—at least not the posing. Her nudity is about exposing his art. Like Michelangelo’s David. She has calluses on her big toes. Was she a dancer?”
“Nothing in the report to indicate so, but we can find out,” Asa replied. “Did the other women have calluses?”
“I’ll need to check the photos again. If they do, I missed it.” Violet continued to inspect the body. “Ty, do you remember anything else about her other than that she was a travel agent?”
“Twenty-seven. Specialized in trips to the Outer Banks, in particular Blue Harbor and Nags Head. Lived alone. One cat. Family lives in the Charlotte area—we called and talked to them two days ago. No boyfriend. Selah hasn’t said anything yet about her social media accounts other than she can’t find connections or a singular man who could link to all the victims.”
Ty texted Bexley to inform her it wasn’t Ahnah. She was probably climbing the walls about now.
“What happens when he runs out of lighthouses?” Owen asked.
“Good question,” Violet said. “They’re his shining light, his shining moment. What I want to know is, how long will he keep these women? Not all of these women are linked to Ty. He’s killed two to bring us to his doorstep. One to toy with Tiberius—and all of us—and to let him know he’s got Ahnah and at any time could kill her. He’s screwing with you at their expense.”
Would the next body be this evil man’s toy or would it be Ahnah?
Ty’s eggs and toast threatened to come back up. The fact his name was being used in nearly every sentence regarding this killer sickened him. Ty was no one’s pawn. Under no one’s authority, especially a deranged ink master who clearly knew his past.
Ty couldn’t put it off any longer. He should have made the call two days ago. But he’d wanted to be absolutely certain before interjecting himself back into that world for even thirty seconds.
