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Sipping her coffee, Beth eyed him over the rim. “Hmm. That’s a shame. If one was abusive, it would make our lives easier.”
“Maybe, but I do have something interesting.” Styles looked up at her from his laptop. “After we talked about similar cases and the current spate of murders in Mischief, I placed a request for information on the Night Creeper murders. I haven’t received any files yet, but a dispatch arrived about a body of a girl found in an abandoned warehouse out at Wolf Valley this morning. I asked for more info, and they sent me the case file. I figure he’s hit again, just like you said he would.”
Icy fingers walked down Beth’s spine and the Tarot Killer rushed to the surface ready to burst out of her to seek justice.Dammit.She sucked in a few deep breaths, grabbed her cup, andwalked to the kitchenette for a refill, keeping her back turned away from Styles. “When was this?”
“A man walking his dog found her—well, the dog found her—at five after six this morning.” Styles’ chair creaked as he stood and joined her. “You amaze me.”
Oh, that’s all she needed to feed her psychopath’s ego. Unable to push the Tarot Killer back into her box, she turned and gave Styles a brilliant smile. The full charismatic persona was in control, like one of those awful colleagues at the office party who after overindulging start to flirt with everyone. She noticed his pupils dilate. A sure sign she’d taken him by surprise. She chuckled. “Do I? That’s such a nice thing to say, Styles. Why do you preferStyles? Dax is such a lovely name.”
“Ah… long story.” Styles poured his coffee and leaned against the counter. His ears had turned pink. “I went on vacation to Australia and made a few friends. They’re nice people, but when I told the locals my name, they all laughed. Dax is slang for pants. Some of them started calling me Levi as a joke, so since then it’s been Styles.” He cleared his throat. “You amaze me, the way you have the ability to forecast a perp’s next move. The Night Creeper isn’t even our case, but after just skimming the media releases you profiled him. I don’t figure you know you do this all the time on the fly.”
Trying desperately to push down the Tarot Killer and save the situation, she busied herself looking for cookies she didn’t want to eat. Heck, Beth Katz rarely gave compliments. She compared herself to a tree: strong and protective; whereas the Tarot Killer was a rose: it looked pretty, smelled wonderful, but could cut a person to shreds. She searched her mind for something to say. “I do seem to be able to analyze a situation and make predictions. It’s good of you to recognize my skill. I appreciate it. I guess it’s working with computers all the time.My brain works a little differently to some.”If only you knew just how differently.
“I’ve noticed.” Styles stirred his coffee slowly, his eyes fixed on her. “What are you searching for?”
She found the cookie jar and thrust it into his hands. “Cookies. It’s just me doing my thing. I knew you’d be needing a snack about now.”
“Okay, so has being stuck with me through winter made you relax some around me or is this the nurturing Beth I haven’t seen before?” Styles carried the cookie jar to his desk and smiled at her, eyebrows raised.
Shaking her head and slamming the door firmly on the Tarot Killer, Beth rolled her eyes. “Nah, it’s just your stomach starts to complain around nine every morning. I figure meeting it head-on is a solution.” She picked up her cup and headed back to her desk. “So what else have you discovered about this recent murder in Mischief?”
“It’s the same MO as all the others.” Styles munched on a cookie. “They’re saying strangled and dumped, is all. As usual, the report is sketchy.”
Leaning back in her chair, Beth sighed. She desperately needed to see the body, but it would need to be Styles’ idea. Nothing, no suggestions, should lead back to her, not when she intended to remove the killer from existence. “Hmm, you know as there’s been so many murders and they could be linked to our guy. Even though our guy prefers shooting, he might be mixing it up to keep the heat off him.”
“We can’t rely on the local doctor to give us answers.” Styles rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll call Wolfe and ask for his advice. If he looks at the body, we’d know once and for all if the cases are linked.” He picked up his phone and put it on speaker. “Ah, Shane, it’s Dax Styles. There’s a homicide over atMischief. It could possibly be an extension of the Convenience Store Killer’s comfort zone.” He gave Wolfe the details.
“That many murders and cowboys handling the causes of death.”Wolfe blew out a long breath.“Give me the number of the Mischief sheriff. I’ll call him personally. I’ll need to examine this body and the crime scene before the evidence is lost.”
“Sure, I’ll message you his details.” Styles smiled at Beth. “We’d like to be there. When are you heading out?”
“I can be in the air in half an hour with my team. Just a second.”Wolfe issued orders to someone.“I know Mischief. We helped out in the wildfires a couple of years back. They have a helipad on top of the hospital. I’ll send you the coordinates. I’ll speak to the hospital and message you with my ETA. We’ll need transport. Wolf Valley is a ways away from the city. Can you organize something?”
“Yeah, sure.” Styles flicked a glance at Beth. “Catch you later.” He disconnected.
“Grab your things and I’ll get the bird ready.” Styles pushed to his feet. “We’ll check out the murder. We’ll be back in time to interview our suspects.”
A thrill of excitement ran through Beth and she stood. “Okay, but it won’t be enough time to look into the case files at the sheriff’s department. I’d like to see what they have, wouldn’t you? If mistakes have been made in the causes of death, we need to know.”
“Yeah, we do, but if it’s not the same man, we can’t lose ground on the Convenience Store Killer case.” Styles stared into space. “We’ll do the interviews as planned and then head back there. It’s fifteen minutes away by chopper. We’ll need time to look into their case files and speak to the sheriff and his men. He glanced at his watch. “Can you arrange a couple of rentals? I’ll be at least forty-five minutes. I’ll need to refuel. We’ll come back and do the interviews.”
Beth made a few notes. “And how do you plan to proceed if we find anything interesting in Mischief?”
“I guess we go back.” Styles stared into space for a beat. “It would be easier to stay overnight or maybe a couple of days, depending on what we find.”
Perfect.Beth bit back a smile. “Not a problem.” She turned back to her laptop.
TWENTY-ONE
Wolf Valley, Mischief
Interested for personal reasons more than anything else, Beth scanned the city of Mischief. As the Tarot Killer, she’d need to move around easily and fast. Luckily, Mischief’s town plan was set out in a grid and had a number of suburbs, set around successful mining operations. The state was incredibly rich in a large variety of resources, from precious metals to gemstones and minerals. Mines littered the landscape. As they approached, Styles picked out the ghost towns, places that had once been prosperous gold-mining towns, with significant historic value. Her interest was in the layout and distances between murder scenes. She needed to know the time she’d require for traveling if she set out alone to hunt down a killer. She’d thought long and hard about the case and the only conclusion for so many mistakes was either gross incompetence by the local sheriff’s department or a dirty cop. How dirty was the question. Covering up for a perp was one thing, but if she successfully identified the Night Creeper as one of the local law enforcement officersor someone working closely with the sheriff’s department, he’d have protection and it would be difficult to stop him.
If it was a dirty cop, then it would be hard proving his guilt because if he was on the job and covering up or conveniently mislaying evidence, it would be enough to keep him out of jail. She’d need to know everything about him before she made her move. Being that close to an investigation, he’d be able to destroy or contaminate evidence and would be right there making decisions on the case, twisting it away from him. Beth never took the taking of a life for granted. She’d evaluate each case very carefully before risking her life to take him down. He’d need to prove himself worthy to be immortalized as one of the Tarot Killer’s victims.
Beth always considered her own motives for taking down unstoppable monsters, and being judge, jury, and executioner. It didn’t mean she placed herself above the law. In fact, on the right side of the law, cops shot and killed perpetrators on a regular basis and rarely the morality of their actions was mentioned. She weighed up the person’s guilt and needed proof before she acted, rather than relying on a split-second gut or kneejerk reaction she’d seen many a time in the field. A dirty cop was bad enough, but a serial killer cop murdering for pleasure disgusted her. Taking out sadistic murderers didn’t thrill her, it made her high on adrenaline, maybe, but in truth, the thrill she received was from outwitting them. Beth only killed people who deserved to die and had escaped justice. Driven by her need to seek revenge for their victims, her rigid code of conduct was self-inflicted torture at times, but it kept her dark side from running amok.
As they circled the city, the small towns, really suburbs of Mischief, seemed like small hubs of industrial areas rather than the ranches she’d seen around Rattlesnake Creek or Black Rock Falls. None were too far away and she easily recognized Wolf Valley, Buffalo Pass, Mortonville, and Last Stop from herphone’s maps app. There were more suburbs, but she calculated from the case files the bodies had been dumped within these areas, which made it quite clear to Beth that the Night Creeper lived in the heart of Mischief, and his comfort zone was between the towns of Wolf Valley, Buffalo Pass, Mortonville, and Last Stop.
