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The sheriff gave details, excused himself, and made a call. Styles listened as he explained the situation to Weston. Once he’d disconnected, he stood sliding his chair back on its wheels. Styles folded his notebook and slid it inside his pocket. “Has he still got the bodies?”
“He has.” Sheriff Bowman rubbed his chin. “He sealed the crime scene and the bodies are on ice in the spare cooler at the meat-processing plant. It’s never used, apart from disasters. It’s old and not up to the hygiene standards for human consumption, so was perfect for the victims while they work out the identities.” He sighed. “He’ll meet you at the park with transport for five people.”
Styles nodded. “Who called in the shooting?”
“The first on scene in the Roaring Creek case was a guy delivering newspapers. He didn’t enter the premises.” Bowman shook his head slowly. “I was on scene directly after. I’d received a 911 call about Cassidy going missing moments before.”
Considering the evidence to date, Styles ran the case through his mind. “Do you have a copy of the footage of the murder from the CCTV camera inside the convenience store?”
“Yeah, I checked back over the previous few days as well, to see if anyone in particular frequented the store, but the people dropping by were random. A ton of teenage kids go back and forth running errands at all hours, for their folks, I guess.” He heaved a sigh. “The missing girl, Cassidy Wilder, dropped by frequently, most times between nine and ten at night. Both her parents work late, so maybe they’re the forgetful types and need supplies. She usually buys milk, bread, and things like that.”
That made her an easy target. Styles looked at him. “How did she get to the store?”
“She walked.” Bowman sighed. “Her home isn’t far, maybe five hundred yards or so from the store.”
Nodding, Styles held out his phone. “Send the CCTV camera files to this number.” He waited for Bowman to comply. “Thanks.”
Standing, Styles pushed down his Stetson. “I’ll head back to the hospital. Can you arrange transport ASAP? We’ll need to process both crime scenes this afternoon and examine the victims’ remains. It’s gonna be a long day.” He headed for the door and, as he walked past the counter, tipped his hat to Sharifa Hagstrom.
Back at the hospital, Styles found Beth feeding coins into a coffee machine. He shuddered. “You must be desperate to drink hospital coffee.”
“Yeah, well, after dealing with a hysterical mother, I needed something.” Beth raised both eyebrows. “Find out anything interesting?”
Styles explained and watched the horrified expression cross her face. “Yeah, I figured Bowman would have more sense. Two mass murders and abductions within six months and he didn’t call for assistance and then he sends the bodies to be embalmed.We’re lucky the killer dumped the girl’s body on the county line, or she’d be six feet under by now.” He plucked the cup from her hand and tossed it into the trash. “There’s a diner about fifty yards from here.” He went to the counter. “Can you tell the medical examiner we’ve gone to the diner for coffee? He’ll be along shortly.”
“Sure.” The receptionist looked up from her computer.
Waving his hand toward the door, he followed Beth outside. “From what I’ve heard, there’s a good chance that they’ll find Cassidy Wilder’s body dumped on the side of the road in the next twenty-four hours. We need to be on scene when that happens. I figure we find a place to hole up for the night or however long this takes and wait. I’ll need to go home and get Bear and I figure you’ll want a change of clothes.”
“Yeah, after dealing with dead bodies and crime scenes all day, I’ll need to scrub myself clean.” Beth pushed open the door to the diner. “I’ll order coffee to go for everyone and ask where there’s a decent motel. Preferably near somewhere we can park the chopper.”
As he waited, Styles scrolled through the case files and shook his head at the lack of evidence. He searched the files and found a list of personal effects from the abducted girls, and they were all the same. The killer had taken their panties. These shootings were connected and by someone who knew the three counties like the back of his hand and could move through them practically unseen.
EIGHT
The convenience store in Roaring Creek was situated near the corner of Main and Riverside and set between the local library and an empty building. Beth climbed from the front seat of Sheriff Bowman’s vehicle and scanned both ways. “So which way is Cassidy Wilder’s home?”
“The end of Riverside.” Bowman pointed along Riverside and shook his head. “This has always been a secure town. Sending a kid to the local store was safe. Now that enjoyable part of small-town life is over.”
Riverside ran straight for as far as the eye could see. It was a rural mining town. Houses sat in clusters of threes and fours along the sidewalk. She noticed the streetlights were few and far between. It would have been dark at nine at night, and deep shadows would have covered the sidewalk. Chills crept up Beth’s spine. In a town stalked by a serial killer, it would have been like running the gauntlet. She turned to look at the convenience store. They waited for Sheriff Bowman to open the entrance with keys. They pulled on booties, gloves, and masks before entering and plastered themselves along one wall to avoid the blood spatter. The smell inside the confined space was abhorrent. The metallic smell of congealing blood and putrid human wastepermeated Beth’s face mask. Before heading for the convenience store, they’d all viewed the CCTV footage of the murder and waited for Wolfe to forensically process the crime.
Beth could clearly picture the shootings in her head. The elements of the crime scene had been left in situ, with bullet casings spread out all over the floor but none of the usual paraphernalia seen in a crime scene. All the victims had been pronounced dead at the scene and taken away in body bags, so the usual discarded bandages and gloves were missing. It surprised her to see the care the paramedics had taken to preserve the crime scene before removing the bodies. It was obvious from the few footprints that they’d been wearing booties. Only one set of distinctive footprints went from the chalk outline of a fallen man to the front door. After viewing the CCTV footage, Beth identified the prints as belonging to Cassidy Wilder. In the footage, the girl had tried to avoid the blood spatter, but one side of her shoe had left a distinct footprint.
One thing Beth noticed was there were no bills on the floor. Often during a robbery, the person behind the counter would drop bills in their hurry to comply. From the audio attached to the footage, the perpetrator appeared to be cool, calm, and collected. She had seen many robberies in her time, and the perpetrator was usually agitated and out of control. Most would know they were under surveillance, and the need to get in and out as fast as possible would be paramount. This man was on a mission. He was way too relaxed. It was obvious to Beth that he’d planned the holdup to the second. She found it hard to believe that he’d entered the convenience store to rob it. No, this man’s thrill came from the killing. His disguise was perfect and the people so terrified that any chance of him being identified would be remote, and yet he gunned them down without mercy. The money meant nothing to him.
“With all the witnesses dead, why did he take the girl?” Styles moved to her side. “And why does he leave a scratch game with each of his victims?”
It was easy for Beth to climb inside the killer’s mind. She understood his reasoning, but to divulge it at this point would make her look suspicious. Although she’d admitted to studying psychopaths, what she knew about this particular killer wasn’t in any books. She waited for Wolfe to stop speaking to his team and then turned to Styles. “I’m looking at the other evidence at this crime scene.” She gave him her thoughts on the perpetrator.
“Yeah, well, I agree he appears to be calm and controlled during the robbery, but then he’s done this a few times before. ‘Walk into a place like you own it’ works for him. He controls the room in an instant.” Styles pulled out his phone and reviewed the footage again. He scratched his head. “Although he doesn’t seem too interested in the money. In all the holdups I’ve seen previously, the robber’s attention is always on the cash, so much so people often manage to escape the building. He’s not watching the clerk behind the counter at all. His attention is fully on the people in the store. It’s as if he’s deciding which one to kill first.”
Nodding, Beth looked over his shoulder as the footage played on his phone. “Yeah, that guy behind the counter could have had a gun for all he knew, but he wasn’t worried.” She needed to give Styles a glimpse of the workings of this particular psychopath’s mind. “This scenario reminds me of something.” She paused a beat as if thinking. “Have you ever seen a cat watching a mousehole? They sit there watching and if a mouse makes a single move, they pounce. If the mouse doesn’t move and remains frozen, the cat will lose interest.” She raised both eyebrows and smiled at him behind her mask. “Watch him. He doesn’t shoot unless they move. The only exception is the woman coming from the back room. At this point, he doesn’tknow if she’s armed, so he takes her down. He pauses just long enough to get the reaction from her son and then pulls the trigger.”
“Ah, so you’re saying he’s giving them a reason to kill them?” Styles frowned. “Yeah, I remember Jo Wells mentioning something about psychopaths needing their victims to give them a reason to kill them, or to blame them for killing them.” He gave her a long look, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “He didn’t come here to rob the place, did he? He came here to murder people. Oh, what did Jo call this type of killer?”
Bingo.“Opportunistic.” Beth shrugged. “I’m open to suggestions, but I’m not sure if this description of the killer fits the crime.”
“How so?” Styles cleared his throat.
