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Styles took the keys, opened a filing cabinet, and handed the keys to Beth. “Let’s get at it.”
“We’re staying overnight.” Beth ignored him and perched on one of the desks. She pulled her long blonde hair from its restraints. “Is there any nightlife around here? This town is much bigger than Rattlesnake Creek and it’s been ages since I went out.”
Surprised, as Beth refused so many dates with the locals in Rattlesnake Creek, preferring her own company most times, Styles occupied himself looking for files. Whatever plan she had was going into motion and he was obviously out of the loop.
“I go to the Dancing Lady Saloon, is all.” Dryer gave her a lazy smile. “I spend some time there before I head out on patrol and usually drop by when I’ve finished. It’s a nice place to relax, play some pool. The music is good. Live bands or karaoke some nights.”
“Sounds nice.” Beth stood and moved the bunch of keys from one hand to the next. “Have the patrols increased since the murders?”
“Nope.” Deputy Boone shrugged. “The chance we have of catching that guy is a million to one. He doesn’t have any kind of pattern. We drive all over, checking old places and all through town, and he still manages to kill some poor girl. All our suspectshave alibis.” He waved a hand toward the filing cabinets. “It’s all in there. We don’t know if it’s one guy or a whole bunch. If you can find a clue, let us know because we have zip.”
Open file in hand, Styles looked from one to the other. “Who makes the decision about autopsies?”
“The sheriff most times.” Dryer leaned back in his chair. “We use the local doctor or whoever is on call at the hospital. Weekends the funeral parlor deals with dead bodies. Most are natural causes. We don’t have too many murders around these parts. The recent ones, we figure, were committed by someone from out of town. One of those serial killers we hear about running wild in your part of the state.”
“We feel the same way.” Beth opened all the filing cabinets and then looked at Dryer. “I know you’re on your lunch break, but I’d really like a sandwich. It’s cold and wet outside. Could you possibly give me a ride to the local diner?”
“Well, I sure can. Toss me my keys and I’ll drive you. My cruiser is just outside.” Dryer gave her a lopsided smile as if all his birthdays had come at once and caught the keys she threw to him. “Come right this way.” He stood and waved her out the door.
Perplexed, Styles stared after her.What the heck was Beth up to now?
TWENTY-NINE
Beth listened to the smooth-talking man beside her in the cruiser. She’d had her suspicions about him from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. He fit her profile of the Night Creeper and then she’d noticed a few small scratches on his wrists, in the place a woman would grab him in an effort to pull on his hands if he was trying to throttle her. At first, she’d planned to watch him and then she’d seen his set of keys. Her dark side had surfaced in such a rush she’d fought hard to contain it. The moment the bunch of keys hit her palm her attention riveted on a small metal stick hanging from the keyring. She’d turned it over casually in her hand, and on one end she’d found the same rune, carved into the metal, she’d seen burned into the victims’ flesh. She turned her head to stare at him. Right beside her was the Night Creeper. She’d needed an excuse to get him alone and discover which cruiser was his ride. What better excuse than to go and get some takeout? “It must be lonely patrolling out here all alone at night. We noticed many of the streets are like ghost towns. All the old industrial buildings are sitting empty.”
“I like being alone sometimes.” Dryer turned and smiled at her. “It gives me time to think. I always volunteer for the night patrols. I like them.”
As they pulled in front of the diner, everything fell in place for Beth. She smelled the stink of cigarettes on his breath. He no doubt carried a Zippo, perfect for heating the branding tool on his keyring. He used his vehicle for picking up girls. They’d get into a sheriff’s department cruiser and think they were safe. If he messed up and evidence came to light, he’d destroy it. It was just about a perfect plan until she’d come along. As they reached the diner, she looked at him. “Don’t get out. I’ll only be a minute and it’s cold out here.” She smiled. “Can I get you anything?”
“No thanks, I’ve just eaten.” He leaned back, grinning at her. “Take your time.”
Inside the diner, Beth searched her pockets for the tracker device she’d made a habit of carrying for a time. Knowing where a killer was located at any time made her job easy. Now all she had to do was trigger him and see what happened. She wouldn’t allow another innocent girl to be slaughtered but she had many tricks in her arsenal to catch a killer. After collecting a couple of packets of sandwiches, she walked out of the diner, dropped a bunch of paper napkins beside the cruiser, and while bending to grab them, slipped the tracker neatly under the passenger door. She climbed inside. “I’m so clumsy.”
“You’re not what I expected for an FBI agent.” Dryer tipped back his hat and smiled, looking her over. “You look and talk like a city girl. Come out with me tonight, and we’ll take the city out of you and replace it with some country.”
Beth giggled like a schoolgirl. Oh my, he’d fallen right into her trap. She understood men like him. Dominant and aggressive when they didn’t get their own way. Women triggered them by refusing them or making them look insignificant. Ridiculing them in front of friends was also a trigger. Which one should she use? This guy was already on full throttle and it wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge, and right now he wouldn’t have another victim lined up. He’d just grab anywoman to prove a point. “I’ll need to ask Styles just how long he plans on working today.” She kept her voice husky and a little breathless. “He’s my superior and can be so hard on me at times.”
“Ah, that’s not fair.” Dryer pulled up outside the sheriff’s department. “Maybe you should ask him. It will be a night to remember, I promise. We can go back to my place after a few drinks.”
Amazed by the way Dryer was falling perfectly into line for her, she headed back to the office. Once inside, she met Styles’ disapproving glare. He knew she had something planned and, Styles being Styles, he didn’t like being out of the loop. She placed the sandwiches on the desk and, lowering her voice so not to be overheard, bent to speak to him. “Would you believe Dryer hit on me in the cruiser? I was just being the good cop and trying to extract information.”
“What did he say?” Styles opened a paper sack and looked inside.
“He asked me out and I said I’d ask you when we’ll be finished here.” Beth sighed. “It wasn’t that, but he was very suggestive.”
“How so?” Styles’ eyes narrowed. “You might have misinterpreted his meaning.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so. He said we could have a few drinks and go back to his place and ‘he’d like to take the city girl out of me and replace it with country.’” She looked at him and shrugged. “We need these guys’ cooperation, so I didn’t react. I kept my cool, but saying nothing is as good as agreeing, isn’t it? Now what do I do? I don’t feel comfortable around him, but I don’t want to make a scene.”
“Why did you ask the sheriff if they were married?” Styles gave her a long searching look. “Maybe he mentioned it to Dryer?”
Rolling her eyes, Beth shook her head. “I needed to know if they lived alone, as in having people to give them alibis.” She frowned. “That’s still no excuse for hitting on me like that, is it? I need to work here, Styles, and don’t need this type of attention.”
“Leave it to me.” Styles stood so violently that his chair tipped over and he walked out of the office and returned with the sheriff. He looked from one man to the next. “Agent Katz is a federal officer and deserves respect. Deputy Dryer made comments to the effect he could take the city girl out of her and replace it with country. That is sexual harassment. Is this the kind of behavior you allow in your office, Sheriff?”
Bang, there it was, the trigger. Humiliation did it every time and Beth could see Dryer change in front of her. She’d seen it in her own reflection many times. The look he gave her was terrifying, as if in a flick of a switch she’d seen his true self. The sadistic serial killer was ready to bring his endgame and he didn’t care who he murdered this time, but she’d be his first preference. There was no doubt this was the Night Creeper and he’d try and strike tonight, but this time, the Tarot Killer would be right behind him.
THIRTY
