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Macy studied the keys and noted a small piece of plastic that might have once belonged to a key chain.
She shifted her attention to the tarnished condom packet. Macy pulled on a fresh set of latex gloves. “Looks like she never intended to make that study session.”
“The clothing fragments found on the body were a gold metallic. The jeans disintegrated, but the metal button and zipper we found are consistent with a designer pair sold in 2003 and 2004. The shoes were heeled boots.”
“Maybe she did have a boyfriend.” Nevada worked his hand into a glove. “Greene’s report says there was nothing unusual spotted at the school the day she went missing.”
“Maybe he charmed her,” Macy said. “An awkward girl might have been thrilled for a little attention. We know Paul Decker showed some interest.”
“Decker referred to her as the ‘virgin vault,’” Nevada said.
“Which would have made her a challenge,” Macy said.
“Decker also placed Cindy Shaw with Tobi and said Tobi would do almost anything for the team,” Nevada said.
“Evil comes in all sizes.” Macy all but whispered the last words, and she realized Nevada was staring at her. She cleared her throat. “What else did you find in the pack?”
With gloved hands, McDaniel picked up the textbook. “That leads me to this. I went through it page by page. Have a look at the pages I’ve marked with a tab.”
Macy opened the inside cover. Tobi Turner’s name was listed on the third line of LEASED TO. The other names had been neatly crossed out. She flipped to the first marked page and saw pencil writing in the margin.
Test on Tuesday. Section Two.
“It appears she liked to doodle and write in the margins,” Macy said. “How do you know it’s hers?”
“Handwriting matches the signature on the front cover,” McDaniel said. “Have a look at the last page in the book.”
She flipped to the end and saw another note in bolder pencil.
Bonfire. 8:00 p.m. Thursday.
“Decker called the bonfires their good luck ritual,” Nevada said.
“He said ritual?” Macy asked.
“He did. The coach wanted them to burn away all their fears and doubts.”
“Odd.”
“Why?”
“Ritual can also mean something primitive, like a sacrifice.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tuesday, November 19, 12:30 p.m.
When Macy and Nevada arrived back at the sheriff’s office, a collection of news vehicles was waiting for them. She hadn’t been expecting the media. “Did you move up the press conference?”
“No. Bennett confirmed it was later this afternoon,” Nevada said.
As they crossed the lot, she was grateful she could keep pace with Nevada. The leg felt decent, which was great. She didn’t need the distraction.
Inside, they found several reporters with cameras crammed into the lobby. On the other side of the glass, Sullivan spoke into his headset.
The door opened and Bennett appeared, her hat in hand, wearing a stoic expression. “I need to ask everyone to step outside. A representative will be out soon to make a statement. I need you to clear this space.”
A rumble of comments rolled over the room as Macy opened the exterior door. Several folks passed without incident, but a young reporter with a thick crop of dark hair paused.
“You’re the FBI agent,” the reporter said to Macy.
“I’ll brief you in a few minutes,” Nevada said.
Dark eyes narrowed and the young reporter persisted. “What’s the FBI doing here? Are you investigating the murder of Tobi Turner or the rapes?”
“Save your questions for the briefing,” Nevada said.
The other reporters hovered close, as if fearful they would miss a morsel of news, and several snapped pictures of her walking alongside the sheriff.
They pushed their way through the crowd, dismissing the reporters’ questions. When the door closed behind the reporters, Sullivan waved them behind the secured door. As soon as it latched and they had stepped out of sight of the reception glass, Macy said, “I thought we hadn’t agreed on a briefing yet.”
“We hadn’t,” Bennett said. “They called me about a half hour ago. Someone tipped off several reporters about the DNA matches and the FBI presence.”
“Who tipped them?” Nevada asked.
“Did you visit with Greene?” Bennett asked.
“We did,” Macy said.
Bennett shook her head as her lips flattened into a grim line. “He’s your leak. He called a few friends in the media.”
“To get back at me,” Nevada said.
“Payback,” Macy said.
“You’re shining a light on his failures, so he might think he has nothing to lose at this point,” Bennett said.
“I should have expected pushback,” Nevada said.
Frustration, though tempting, wasn’t productive. “We have the media’s attention a little sooner than we’d planned, but let’s make the best of it,” Macy said. “I have summarized the case facts so I can answer questions. I assume you can do the same.”
“I can,” Nevada said.
Bennett adjusted her uniform. “You want to tell the public the rapes are connected to the murder?”
Nevada looked at Macy. He was making this her call. “I do. Better for us to inform the media than Greene.”
Bennett didn’t look convinced. “Do you really think someone would come forward after all this time?”
“I do,” Macy said.
Sullivan leaned back in his chair. “I have Deputy Melvin on the phone. He said he drove by Debbie Roberson’s house again, and there’s still no sign of her vehicle. He knocked on her door, but no answer.”
“And Ms. Roberson’s cell?” Bennett asked.
“Not emitting a signal.”
“That’s a worry,” Macy said. “How old is Debbie Roberson?”
“She’s twenty-one,” Bennett said.
“Unearthing the body of a girl he killed fifteen years ago is a hell of a trigger,” Macy said.
“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” Bennett asked.
Without taking his gaze off Macy, Nevada said, “Bennett, I want to know the status of Debbie Roberson as soon as you do.”
“Understood,” Bennett.
“For now, we won’t bring up her disappearance to the media,” Macy said. “I want the focus on the older cases that we know for a fact are linked.”
“Roger.” Bennett settled her hat on her head, and Macy set her backpack in the chair.
On reflex, Macy reached for the brush in her backpack, but then, remembering her very short hair didn’t need any attention, she followed Nevada and Bennett outside to face a half dozen cameras and twice as many reporters.
Bennett raised her hands over the rumble of conversation. “If I can have your attention,” she shouted. “The sheriff would like to say a few words.”
When the crowd grew quiet, Nevada stepped up to the podium, moving with a confidence that testified to years of investigations and media interaction. “As you may know, the sheriff’s department was awarded a generous grant that allowed us to have the DNA kits in our evidence room tested.” In a clear, steady voice, he shared their discovery of a serial rapist operating in the valley, as well as the evidence connecting Tobi Turner’s murder to the rapes.
Almost before he had spoken the last syllable, a bevy of questions started firing in his direction. Did the police have a person of interest? How had victims and families reacted to this new development?
Nevada was cool, collected. As he spoke, Macy’s gaze skimmed over the gaggle of reporters and then beyond to anyone else who might have been standing on the sidelines watching. Several cars driving by the sheriff’s office on the main road slowed, but none stopped.
“Why is the FBI involved?” a reporter asked.
“This is a serial offender case,” Nevada said. “And the FBI has access to resources
we do not. I feel we’ll be more effective solving this case with their participation.”
Nevada introduced Macy and offered her a spot beside him at the podium. Macy moved forward, comfortable in a role she’d filled before. Since last June she had triumphed with a series of small victories, but this one made her feel more like her old self than any other.
“As the sheriff said, local law enforcement and the FBI are looking for a serial offender. Based on eyewitness testimony, he wore dark clothing and always had a ski mask covering his face. His fascination with strangulation steadily grew more violent until it escalated to murder. We are now reaching out to the community and asking everyone if they saw or heard something around the dates of the attacks that might be of help.” She turned to Bennett. “Is there anything you’d like to add, Deputy?”
The deputy looked slightly taken aback for a split second, and then she stepped up to the podium. “If there are any persons out there who believe they were a victim of this man, please contact us. We want to help.” She repeated the office’s phone number and waited for the questions to fire in her direction.
The set of questions was almost identical to what had been thrown at Nevada. She simply repeated his answers verbatim. They were a united front.
