Jenna lifted her chin and scanned the yard, her attention moving across the cluster of ranch hands pretending not to watch them. “Did he give you anything useful or any clue to who that someone he’s scared of might be?”
“No names, no.” Styles leaned against the wall and followed her gaze to the men hanging around the barn door. “Like I said, I figure he’s too scared to say anything, so whatever was happening back then is happening now.”
“He gave me a ton of information just by watching him.” Beth’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Apart from his evasiveness, I picked up a pattern of lying enough to keep him on the list of potential suspects.”
“Not enough to say he’s a killer, Beth.” Styles rested the heel of one boot against the wall and stared at her. “I got fear, not violence, from him.”
“He’s volatile.” Beth shook her head. “If he didn’t kill Marie, he could be involved somehow. Maybe he’s the one who buried her body and I believe he was following someone else’s orders—someone he’s terrified of.” She met Jenna’s eyes. “I’ve read some of Lawson’s diary entries. It is obvious he was in fear of his life too, so he must have seen something bad enough to send his son away. I figure he was planning to leave as well—my only concern is why didn’t he tell his lawyer? He would have known that he could trust him.”
Considering what Beth had revealed, Jenna chewed on her bottom lip. “I have the same feeling that there’s a connection between the past and present incidences. We’ll know more about what else is in the diaries before too long. If we’re talking about murder and Lawson witnessed something he shouldn’t have, we need to consider the men who’ve worked here since Lawson was alive. Lovall and a few others fall into this category. They would know every paddock, every trail, and places a body could be hidden. All of the longtime workers would also know where everyone is at any given time. This alone gives them the advantage of moving a body around and disposing of it without anyone seeing them. It makes sense that if Lawson witnessed either a murder or the disposing of a body and knew the killer saw him, that he’d be in fear of his life. It’s not like he could just fire the man, is it?”
“This is exactly why Lovall remains on my list of suspects.” Beth lifted up her hands in exasperation and then dropped them to her sides. “Now he knows we’re watching him, it’s going to make his life very difficult around here.”
Turning to walk inside, Jenna glanced at Beth. “Do you believe we could turn him around to be our confidential informer?”
“Unlikely.” Beth’s mouth turned down. “If this has been going on for over twenty years, he’s too far gone by now—as in brainwashed. Can you imagine what it would be like knowing that someone close by is mutilating women? Lovall has a wife and family. The killer has most likely threatened them with the same treatment if he opens his mouth or doesn’t help him.”
Knowing exactly what it’s like to have her family threatened, Jenna ground her back teeth together and then looked at Styles. “Okay. Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t sneak off into the night. Maybe we need a few more surveillance cameras? If he’s scared, he’ll make a mistake and I want you to be right there when he does.” She turned her attention back to Beth. “Do you believe his fear makes him dangerous?”
“Right now, I don’t trust anyone working here. This monster tortured a woman to death. They enjoy hurting people. Marie’s body bears witness to their cruelty and if it’s the same person who burned Rhett’s parents to death, there are no depths they won’t sink to.” Beth met her gaze. “I don’t scare easy but the unpredictability of this killer frightens the heck out of me. We all need to watch our backs and I’m not going anywhere until we take this maniac down.”
Jenna nodded slowly. “Good, then we’re on the same page.”
Twenty-Five
Stanton Forest
Tuesday
Zoe Carpenter trembled. The man stood in the doorway wrapping his leather belt around his fist. She could see the bright glistening coals of eyes peering through the slits in his balaclava. As he stepped closer she tried to scream but her dry throat closed around the sound.
Her eyes shot open and she stared into the gloom around her. Panting, she sucked in deep breaths. It’s just a dream. I’m in the forest. I’m safe. How long had she been asleep? Sunlight no longer streaked between the tall pines surrounding her. Twilight was upon her and as she curled beneath the overhang of the fallen log, with her knees tight to her chest, night settled over the forest. The bright colors had muted, slowly turning the vivid greens into grays and blacks. Beyond the circle of trees an inky darkness seemed to crawl toward her. She sat up slowly, her throbbing head reminding her she had been beaten soundly and the pain in her ribs making her catch her breath. The shirt she’d pulled over as a blanket had become damp from the river’s mist squirming through the trees like a mythical entity. A sharp mountain breeze brushed against her cheeks, biting into the bruises and lifting her tangled hair. Dread seeped into her as she scanned the forest. She might not be a local, but she understood how the forest came alive at night. The forest never slept.
A twig snapped somewhere beyond the tree line, and the sound shot through her like a jolt of electricity. Immediately she went into a crouch and gathered the shirt around her shoulders, ready to run. Convinced someone waited just out of sight, she moved her gaze back and forth, scanning the darkness between the pines. Heart pounding so loud she feared it might give her away, she strained her ears. The river rushed by in a constant sound but was it masking footsteps? With every breath of wind her mind played tricks on her, making shadows move as if the man was stepping through the trees and coming for her. She flinched and her attention darted upward as branches creaked and swayed, the pointed tops dark sentinels against a star-scattered sky. He could be out there, watching for her to emerge. She needed to move and pulled the shirt tighter around her shoulders, inhaling the scent of fabric softener, and took a few careful steps toward the river.
The forest would be teeming with wildlife, all looking for a meal. As if on cue, an owl hooted. The sound echoed through the mountains. It was just one of the predators that hunted at night. It didn’t frighten her but everything else did. A woman alone wasn’t meant to be in the forest at night. Something rustled in the undergrowth and panic gripped her so tight she couldn’t breathe. Had he found her? Zoe froze as two red eyes flashed in the darkness. Moments later, a young buck bounded past, kicking up the undergrowth in his wake. She pressed her forehead to the rough bark of a tall pine, trying to steady her breathing. The wood was hard and unforgiving and small burrs dug into her flesh. The reality centered her and she counted her breaths, forcing them to slow. You need to get a grip, Zoe, or you’re never going to get out of here alive.
Through the trees she could make out the glint of water. Underfoot, the lush green undergrowth tangled around her legs as she tried to walk. Dragging herself from tree to tree, she kept going until the darkness dissolved into shafts of moonlight along the riverbank. Out in the open she’d make herself a target, but what choice did she have? The unknown path through the dense forest would be fraught with danger, and she could walk right into him. At least along the riverbank she could see if anyone was coming toward her for quite a distance. Bone-weary, she took painful steps across the rock-strewn sand and made her way along the edge of the water, hoping the constant flow would wash away any footprints. The freezing water lapped around her legs, numbing the pain in her feet and keeping her awake. Although she’d slept for a few hours, exhaustion dragged at her. Hunger gnawed at her belly and the cold water she drank from the river only made it worse. She kept moving and the hours crept by, each one getting colder than the last. She rubbed her arms, trying to coax warmth back into her fingers, but the chill had sunk into her bones. Trying to push away the pain, she increased her pace, lifting her knees and gasping in the cold night air. She couldn’t stay in the water a moment longer and must get out and warm herself.
She stared into the forest, searching for any movement and terrified she’d see the outline of a man stepping from between the trees. Every shadow was him, his boots sinking into the soft pine needles littering the forest floor. She could almost hear his voice taunting her, trying to make her scream louder. The way he laughed at her pain. Her heart hammered against painful ribs and she fought to suck in each breath. How long before he found her and dragged her back? She staggered on, keeping the river to her right. Branches tore at her clothes, and her feet became entangled in roots. So exhausted, she collapsed beside a huge boulder. The bushes all around hid an indent where an animal had dug out a place to sleep. Cobwebs brushed against her face and caught in her hair, but she didn’t care. She crawled inside, curled up in a ball, and shivered. Desperately wanting to sleep, she couldn’t close her eyes. Each time she tried, she could see him, smell him, and hear his boots moving across the ground. His voice had become melodic at times, telling her to repent, as if he were the pastor on Sundays, as if just being a woman was a sin.
She clamped her hands over her ears trying to push the memories to one side, but he wouldn’t go. His laughter still rung in her ears and helplessness engulfed her. She stared at the leaves, so close they brushed against her cheeks, and tried to sleep but each sound jerked her awake. Unable to sleep, she dozed, half-awake until the first watery streaks of sunlight pierced the dark forest. Her throat dry, she crawled out of the safety of the boulder and stood slowly. A gust of wind carried the smell of smoke. Could another cabin be close by or was it a campfire? He could be out there, calmly making his breakfast and waiting until she emerged so he could take her back and finish the job. She gasped as the unmistakable sound of someone crashing toward her broke the silence. He’d seen her.
Twenty-Six
Black Rock Falls
Rio, along with Raven and Rowley, had spent long hours the previous day going through each of the notebooks Kane discovered in the safe at Rhett’s ranch house. Lawson had meticulously written notes on seasonal workers who’d left early without any explanation and not collected their paycheck. The notebooks included sketches and maps of the ranch layout, each marked with places he’d found things he couldn’t explain. These included clumps of hair, scraps of clothing, footprints, or disturbed soil. Any particularly interesting segments Rio added to the whiteboard using a photocopy of the entry or a list. He’d just finished a list of dates when the women had disappeared when Jenna and Kane walked into the conference room. He put down his pen and turned to greet them. “Morning, how’s the murder case going?”
“We’re still interviewing hands on the ranch.” Jenna dumped her things on the table, and Kane went to the bench and poured two cups of coffee. She looked at the whiteboard. “It seems that you’ve made progress.” She scanned the room and nodded to Rowley. “Where’s Raven?”
“He worked late last night so we could get everything of interest copied and uploaded onto the server.” Rowley leaned back in his chair and met her gaze. “He has someone coming by to see him about a dog this morning, so he’ll be in around eleven.”
“Okay, well that’s in his employment agreement.” Jenna sat down and arranged her things in front of her. She took the cup of coffee from Kane with a smile and then turned her attention back to Rio. “What have you got for me so far?”
Rio turned back to the whiteboard. “The search warrant, for one. The judge issued it without a problem.” He lifted a folder from the desk and handed it to her. “The notebooks contain some very interesting information, but apart from a list of women who left suddenly, he doesn’t name any of the men he suspected. It’s as if he wrote the notes as a terrified man attempting to document a crime he didn’t fully understand. We’ll need to investigate the places on the maps he drew, as they point to unusual happenings around the ranch at the time. If they produce physical evidence, it might prove why someone wanted to silence him.”
“I found something interesting.” Rowley went to the whiteboard and pinned up a list. “This is a list of dates when a few of the ranch hands suddenly quit. As seasonal workers continued to go missing after these men left the ranch, I don’t believe they were involved, however they are people we can speak to. It would be interesting to know why they left.”
