Beth went for her zipper. She needed her weapon. As if he’d read her mind, the man shoulder-charged her, the force lifting her into the air and throwing her into the trees. Breathless, she shook her head, trying to get the sense back into her mind. One hand went to the zipper and she pulled, but the teeth caught in the fabric and it stuck stubbornly. The man came at her, his eyes wild, and she suddenly recognized him. The sight shocked her and she shook her head in disbelief. The AI had done a perfect job and the man running toward her with a white shaggy beard was undoubtedly Wade Cutter. Living in the forest had made him as strong as an ox. His muscular arms resembled those of a man in his thirties, rather than in his fifties. This was the sadist, the narcissistic psychopath who enjoyed torturing young women—and he had a partner.
In split-second timing, Beth stepped to one side. The rage inside her pumping adrenaline into every muscle. A hand reached out and grabbed her, slamming her against a tree. Air rushed from her lungs, but she reached for a hatpin and jammed it between Cutter’s fingers. He howled in pain as she spun to face him. “You’re not used to them fighting back, are you, Wade?”
“I don’t know you.” Cutter searched her face, his eyes wild and his hands opening and closing. “But you’re gonna pay.”
Moving from tree to tree, Beth sucked in deep breaths. She needed to keep up her strength. Behind her, Cutter charged through the underbrush, his gasping breaths getting closer by the second. Then he was on her, forcing her to the ground with the weight of his body. Beth rolled, getting one arm free, and looked into the eyes of death. The mouth spread into a decayed smile and a look of triumph crossed his face. Striking like a snake, Beth buried the thin stiletto into his ear, drew it out as he screamed in agony, and rammed it up into the back of his neck, straight into his brain stem. She crawled from beneath him, rolled him over, and then leaned against a tree, gasping, and waited for him to die.
As she wrestled with her zipper, finally opening the jacket, she needed to make a decision. The rush to kill a monster slowly ebbed but he had her DNA all over him. It had been self-defense, but could she risk being found with another dead killer? Would anyone believe her? Decision made, she slowly made her way back to the cabin and pulled examination gloves from her pocket. Just inside the door, she found the bottles of bleach the other man had delivered and slowly carried one back. Bending close to the body, she poured bleach over her hatpin, dried it on a tissue, and pushed it back into her hair. Next, she soaked Cutter’s body with bleach, his arms, hands, the wounds she’d inflicted, his shirt and pants. Satisfied, she peeled open the seam of her jacket, extracted a sealed tarot card, opened it, and dropped it beside Cutter’s body.
Beth took one last look at the monster who’d taken the lives of so many women and gotten away with it for over twenty years, glad that his face wasn’t the last one she’d seen. She had no empathy for him—but she did care in her own way for his victims. No one should die like that and a man like Wade Cutter would have kept on evading law enforcement like a ghost. If it hadn’t been for his accomplice, she’d never have stopped him.
Weary and sore, she meticulously removed any trace of her footprints and then made her way slowly back to the old green pickup. Her head ached and her vision moved in and out of focus. It took her a few goes to climb behind the wheel. The old truck started without any problems and she headed back to town. She drove slowly past the sheriff’s office, seeing in the distance the flashing lights of a patrol vehicle. She parked the pickup between two delivery vans, pushed the cowboy hat firmly on her head, added the sunglasses, and made her way slowly toward the town hall. Inside, she easily found the restroom and spent a few minutes using the toilet and washing her hands and face. After flushing the bleach-soaked tissue, she combed out her hair, tying it back at the nape of her neck as usual and pushing in the clips on each side. She added some lipstick and checked herself all over for any marks or bruises. She had a nasty bruise across her collarbone but the T-shirt covered it. A damp paper towel took care of any other marks she found on her jacket and jeans. She pushed the straw cowboy hat into the garbage and then pulled out her phone. “Styles, are you still at Jenna’s?”
“Yeah, well, we’re all at the morgue. Wolfe found an unusual DNA sample in the ones Kane collected from the meat locker. Why? Where are you?”
Beth leaned against the cool wall in the bathroom and relaxed. She had no idea why Styles cared for her well-being. He was indeed a good man. “I came into town with Rhett.”
“Jenna says Rio is in town talking to a guy about a stolen vehicle. Ask him to drive you here… oh, and pick up some takeout. Everyone is starving and we came in the chopper.”
Beth blinked. “I didn’t call to be social, Styles. I have a breakthrough in the case.”
She explained everything right up to when Cutter attacked her. “I waited for the man to drive away and then headed back into town.”
“Jeez, Beth, how many times are you going to do this?” Styles cleared his throat. “You know the rules. How do you figure I’d be able to explain this to the director if some maniac murdered you? What if he’d tied you to the chair and tortured you?” His voice dropped to just above a whisper. “I’d live with the guilt for the rest of my life. This behavior does my head in, Beth. Don’t you care?”
Swallowing hard, Beth fought for the correct answer—the normal answer—because in truth, the only thing she really cared about was killing uncatchable serial killers. She concentrated on the feelings she had for Bear—the dog understood her, wanted nothing, and was loyal. She’d made herself like him, strong and loyal. From a psychopath’s view of the world, she figured that was as good as it would get. She liked people since working with Styles and that was a start. She got along with Jenna’s team and found Carter very interesting, but no one came close to melting her heart. She figured love, whatever that was, could never happen.
“Beth, don’t you have any excuse? Don’t you care?” Styles had walked into the hallway and she could hear the echo.
Beth sighed. She wished she could care and gave him the answer he’d expect. “Of course, I care. It was a hunch, is all, and it paid off. I was never in any danger. I snuck in and hid. He never heard or saw me. You’re making too much out of this, Styles. If you want an apology, fine. I’m sorry but I’ve solved the case and found the killer and maybe you need to get off your butt and follow up before he kills again.” She disconnected and stared at her reflection in the mirror. “No one will ever understand you, Beth. Get used to it.” She turned, grabbed her tote, and strolled out the door.
Forty-Two
Waiting for results was never fun. Jenna sat in Wolfe’s office listening to the men in the room discussing guns and motorcycles. Styles had left to take a call and she glanced up as he entered the room. When Bear whined and went to his side, she took in Styles’ strained expression. “Is something wrong?”
“No, it’s all good.” Styles explained the call from Beth. “She’ll ask Rio to give her a ride.”
“She didn’t see his face?” Kane frowned. “Yet she could see everything in his cart?”
“So it would seem.” Styles dropped into a chair. “He had his hat low and wore shades. At the cabin, he had a bandana tied around his face and took precautions not to leave any trace of him behind.”
Jenna chewed on her bottom lip. “Same as the cabin Zoe escaped from, no evidence until now.”
She recognized the need to rush out to see the cabin as a kneejerk reaction. The chances of the killer returning there until he had a victim would be remote. They needed to make careful plans, discover the name of this man, and follow his every move. “Okay, throw me some suggestions.”
“All the Lawson’s Ridge trucks have GPS and we can track where they’ve been quite easily.” Kalo raised both eyebrows. “The moment I get back to my laptop I can start working on them. I assume we have access to them without needing a warrant?”
“Rhett has cooperated with us all along the line. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” Carter rubbed Zorro’s ears.
“My first instinct would be to head out and place trail cams around the cabin.” Kane leaned forward in his chair staring at Jenna. “The motion detectors will alert us if anyone goes into the cabin. I believe that’s a sound plan. The only problem with it is that we don’t have any transport right now apart from marked patrol vehicles.”
Jenna smiled at him. “We can use Raven’s black truck. All the decals are magnets and the flashers are inside the front grille. If you recall, his last vehicle was damaged and we replaced it. It was quicker for us to get the magnets than have it out of service for the time it takes to add the sheriff’s office logos.” She pulled out her phone. “I’ll send him a message.”
“We have plenty of camouflage gear at the office.” Kane met her gaze. He glanced at the others. “Who wants to go and climb a few trees?”
“I figure the four of us will be enough to get in and out as fast as possible.” Carter looked at Kalo. “I want you to stay with Jenna.”
“That works for me.” Kalo looked relieved. “I don’t do tree climbing.”
