Under Devil's Snare (Under Series Book 2) Read online

Page 3


  Lee felt a little unsettled that she couldn’t let go of the events from last year. She hadn’t really seen much of the carnage, her only involvement being Debra and then later trying to save Jamison. That meant she couldn’t have post-traumatic stress or anything. Right? Maybe it really was just that monstrous gift on the front porch that brought it all back in combination with the current case on which Jamison worked. Regardless, she determined to put it out of her head.

  Gathering up clean clothes, Lee headed for the shower. She tried to focus on the here and now. Scrubbing under hot water, Lee considered what to make for dinner. She wasn’t really hungry, but Jamison would need her strength and she wouldn’t eat without Lee. Thoughts of her partner brought her mind back around full circle and again Lee remembered Debra’s crushed red convertible.

  Lee turned the heat up and scrubbed harder. She tried to think of nothing but the massive condensation ring that must be on the dining room table from her abandoned glass of iced tea.

  Chapter Three

  JAMISON LOOKED UP as the door to her office opened unexpectedly. She had a relaxed office policy, but knocking was still considered the polite thing. While she hadn’t anticipated the door actually opening, Jamison had picked up on the sounds of another helping themselves to coffee and moving about the outer office for the last few minutes.

  “Come on in.”

  Voice loaded with dry sarcasm, her tone had the desired effect. Ranger Thomas froze for an instant and a look of mortification ghosted across her face. The expression reminded Jamison of the rookie Brenda had been a year ago. It quickly vanished, leaving behind a haggard twenty-three-year-old with tired, bloodshot brown eyes. Her long mousy brown hair, usually shiny and neatly groomed, looked windblown with brittle wisps that escaped the clasp at nape of her neck.

  “Sorry about that.” Brenda rubbed her eyes and eased into the chair in front of the desk. She took a quick sip of lukewarm coffee from a paper cup. “I guess I’m too tired to think clearly. The Feds kept me out until two last night. What are you doing here anyway, Captain Kessler?”

  “I work here, remember?”

  “Yes, but you don’t live here,” Brenda bantered in return. “It’s Saturday. Won’t your partner worry?”

  Jamison ignored the question. Lee wasn’t happy to have her working today, but Jamison couldn’t stay home and do nothing while a killer stalked her woods. “Brenda, you can call me by my first name, you know.”

  “One day, Chief.” Brenda flashed a self-deprecating grin. “I was raised to show respect to my superiors, and that’s hard to get over.”

  “Fine, I guess I can understand that, but at least don’t call me chief.”

  Brenda drained her cup in one long swallow, giving Jamison the impression she was trying to cover her expression. Jamison wanted to think Brenda tried to hide another smile at her boss’s reaction to the friendly moniker, but was more concerned with her use of the word superior. Did Brenda mean it in reference to someone she considered better than herself, or simply to point out a higher rank?

  Or maybe Jamison was overthinking the situation and making too much of it. “I take it you all didn’t have any luck last night?”

  Brenda grunted and placed the empty container on the front of Jamison’s desk. Her eyes focused on the wood grain, but there was no mistaking the tightness on her face or the frustration in her voice. “No. We didn’t find anything useful.”

  “You look all in. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”

  “I appreciate that, Chief, uh, Captain, but it’s my normal shift. Don’t worry, Bobby Adams is supposed to relieve me at three and then I’ll head home. Speaking of being on duty, I should get back to work.” Brenda stood up and grabbed her cup, leaving behind a slight smudge of humidity that slowly vanished. She ambled toward the exit and then turned back. “Have you heard anything new this morning?”

  Jamison shook her head. “Not yet. I don’t really expect to unless Hex and her people find something or another body turns up.”

  “Another body? That’s kind of soon isn’t it? I mean I thought our guy was on a two-week cycle.”

  “He is,” Jamison confirmed. “Personally, I hope it stays that way and that we catch the killer before he strikes again. Unfortunately, we don’t always get what we hope for and we don’t really have enough information to be sure of anything.”

  “So at this point, we’re just guessing.”

  Jamison nodded.

  When she didn’t reply further, Brenda shrugged. “Just don’t spend all day here. It’s not good to get too immersed.”

  “Thanks, I’ll try to remember that and don’t worry, Lee will be here to get me in a few hours.”

  “She has the truck?”

  “Yeah, I guess the equipment she needed today wouldn’t fit in the Mercedes.”

  “Gotcha. See you later, Chief.”

  After she was gone, Jamison realized she hadn’t told Brenda about the delivery to her house yesterday or how the horrible gift might be tied to the case. She decided that was a good thing. Some details needed to be kept to as few people as possible. Besides, the flowers might not have anything to do with the killings. It was possible Lee had offended someone in her capacity as Kadin, although Jamison didn’t seriously consider that possibility. She found it more likely that the message was intended for her, a warning to back off from the murder investigation. Despite any conflicting doubts, Jamison had no intention of dropping the case. If anything, that personal delivery to her home made her angry that the suspect had drawn Lee into the mix and made Jamison more determined than ever to find the guilty party.

  Jamison stood up, getting ready to grab some keys and head off into the park. The cell phone vibrated against her hip just as Jamison reached for the lockbox. Glancing at the number, she frowned. Not Lee and not one she recognized. Jamison answered at the same time she removed the Range Rover’s keys from the wall-mounted chest.

  “Kessler.”

  “Good morning, Ranger Kessler. Detective Hex here. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “Not likely. I’m at the office.”

  “Good, then now is a good time to tell you what we’ve found.”

  “Which is?” Hoping Hex was about to prove what a good decision she’d made by bringing in the U.S. Park Police, Jamison’s heart beat a little faster.

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  Jamison snarled quietly when she inadvertently slammed the lid on her thumb. “Well that’s a big help, certainly worth a phone call at nine o’clock on a Saturday.”

  “I thought you said you were at work.”

  “So not the point, Detective.”

  She could have sworn Hex laughed. “All right, all right. I processed the flower box and didn’t find any prints. No partials or smudges either. The lab is going to run it for any other trace that might lead back to your anonymous admirer but I seriously doubt they’ll find anything. Nothing found at either crime scene leads anywhere either so unless we can track down a witness, we’re out of luck.”

  None of this was a surprise. “Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I’ll call you if I find anything else.”

  “Hold on, Kessler. You’re crazy if you think you’re just going to blow me off. I assume you’re not at the office filling out paperwork?”

  Jamison rolled her eyes. “No, I’m getting ready to interview the campers near the latest dumpsite. Maybe they saw or heard something.”

  “Great idea, I’ll be there in just a few minutes and go with you.”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  Hex didn’t respond to the sarcasm. “My people are already talking with everyone living just outside the park near access road Forty. Has your M.E. identified the victim yet?”

  Jamison felt relieved that none of those people Hex planned to speak with were Panthera. “Not that I know of, but Doctor Paul didn’t get the body until late yesterday. As soon as she knows, I’ll know.”

  The crunch of gravel to
ld Jamison that Hex had arrived. She stepped onto the wooden porch and locked up while the detective approached.

  “Could you be more cliché?” Jamison asked in greeting.

  Hex grinned and glanced toward her rental car. “I couldn’t resist.”

  Jamison dangled her car keys. “Let’s take mine.”

  Four campsites and two hikers later they were no closer to finding the killer than before. No one had seen or heard anything they considered unusual. Jamison settled quietly into the Range Rover’s driver’s seat trying to figure out her next step. A cool breeze drifted through the cab when Hex opened the passenger door. Jamison pulled her coat shut but didn’t speak.

  “Feels like that cold front is here,” Hex observed. “So now what?”

  Jamison looked up slowly, lost in thought. She was impressed Hex didn’t push, but gave her time to sift through possibilities. “We didn’t find any tire tracks at the crime scene.”

  “Right, nor was there any mention of them in the report from the first victim.”

  “And the only tracks at Pauline Nielsen’s campsite were from her own vehicle.”

  Frowning, Detective Hex said, “As much as I enjoy the back and forth, where are you going with this?”

  “We believed both victims either trusted or knew their attacker because there weren’t any defensive wounds but what if there’s more to it than that? What if the killer snuck up on them from behind at their campsite?”

  Hex considered the information briefly. “And then killed them somewhere else before getting rid of the body? Kessler, if that’s true this is one strong son of a bitch. He’d have had to carry the Nielsen woman through the woods for what, two miles to the dumpsite? I’m sorry, no one is that strong.”

  “And you’re thinking like a tourist.” Jamison leaned across the seat and opened the glove box, unfazed when the lid dropped onto Hex’s thigh. Rummaging inside, she pulled out a battered park map.

  “What are you onto?”

  Rather than answer, Jamison spread the map out between them. Her finger traced a few lines before she answered. “Here, look at this. Pauline Nielsen’s campsite was here, near Deerlick Falls. If you take the park road to where we found her at Carry Falls Reservoir it’s probably a mile or a mile and a half.”

  “I see where you’re going.” Hex’s eyes glittered in excitement as she leaned over the map. “The woods are pretty heavy around the campground, but this looks like some sort of trail. Hiking?”

  The trail Hex spoke of would only be a short distance through the trees. “Yes. The path is pretty rough for a regular vehicle, but any four-wheel drive could manage and it would cut the distance to a fraction.”

  Hex reached for her cell. “I’ll have Detectives Seaver and Chase check the area, but Kessler, that’s still more than a stone’s throw over uneven terrain between the campground and the hiking trail.”

  Jamison’s phone rang and she climbed out of the Range Rover so she wouldn’t interfere with Hex’s call to her people.

  “Hi Jamison, it’s Laura.”

  “Hey, how are you holding up?” She could hear the weariness in Laura’s voice, but was much too far away to sense anything.

  “Not well. I don’t mind telling you, this has me baffled. Why here, Jami? Murders happen all the time in New York but this isn’t a big city. Honestly, between what happened last year and now this, I have to admit relocation is starting to sound good.”

  Startled, Jamison didn’t know what to say. “Tell me you’re kidding. Where would you go?”

  “There are other Panthera groups,” Laura pointed out. “Maybe Oregon could use a pathologist.”

  “Laura, you’re one of my closest friends. I’ve known you my entire life. Please tell me you’re not seriously considering leaving.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’m just so frustrated. Promise you’ll catch this bastard soon.”

  “I’ll do my best but you’re going to have to give me something, Laura. Have you found anything I can use?”

  “No. There is no trace, prints or semen. There’s no sign of sexual assault or any marks on the body other than the two transected arteries. Everything is identical to the first murder down to the shade of lipstick the killer applied postmortem. I’d be willing to speculate that it’s from the same tube, but we can’t know that without further testing. At least Detective Seaver was able to identify the second victim through phone records a few minutes ago.”

  Jamison absently noted Hex had exited the Range Rover and come around to stand beside her. “Who is she?”

  “Lauren Reid, a thirty-two-year-old nurse from Stark. Seaver talked with her sister. Apparently Lauren was on her way to Lake Placid for a job interview. I wouldn’t even know that much, but I overheard her telling Sheriff Macke.”

  Jamison shot a disapproving look at her companion. “I’m surprised she told her anything without running it by the boss first.”

  “Hey,” Hex objected.

  “You know how the sheriff is,” Laura continued. “She hasn’t left since we brought the body in. I think she even camped out in the hall overnight and she wasn’t going to let Seaver get away with shutting her out.”

  “What’s she going to do now?”

  She listened while trying to ignore Detective Hex, who had moved well into her personal space and leaned close in an attempt to hear Laura. Being pressed up against a soft, attractive woman wasn’t a hardship but Jamison had no romantic interest in Hex. She took a step back and bumped into the side of the vehicle. Undeterred, Hex moved close again and Jamison had nowhere to go. Fortunately, Laura finished her update and Jamison ended the call.

  “Detective Hex, do you mind?”

  “What? Oh, you think I’m coming on to you?” The disbelief in her tone stung Jamison’s ego a little but she recovered quickly.

  “No, I don’t think that. I know you’re just trying to listen in, but I don’t appreciate having my personal space invaded. You’re just going to have to trust that I’ll share whatever I find out.”

  Hex took a deliberate step back, surprising Jamison when she blushed lightly. “You’re right. Sorry, I guess I’m just used to being in charge and doling out the information.”

  “Let me guess, first in your class?”

  “Classic overachieving only child,” Hex confirmed. “Plus, you know as well as I do how hard it is to succeed in a male dominated career. I’ve had to work twice as hard and put in more time than anyone else just to get this far.”

  “I’m sure that’s true, but I don’t think you’d be leading this investigation if your superiors didn’t have faith in your abilities.”

  Hex offered her an unguarded smile, the first authentic gesture Jamison noticed since the team’s arrival. “We’ll talk about who’s really in charge later. Tell me what you found out.”

  “Lauren Reid, a thirty-two-year-old nurse. Apparently, she was only passing through. Sheriff Macke and Detective Seaver are running down her information now, the route she took, any enemies...you know the drill.”

  “What about the forensics?”

  “Doctor Paul said there wasn’t anything useful, not even sign of sexual assault.”

  Hex frowned and placed a foot on the front bumper. Her eyes rested on the ground, arms folded over her chest. She seemed tense, almost pensive.

  “Maybe when we find the car we’ll get lucky.” Jamison felt like she was saying that a lot lately.

  “That’s just it,” Hex huffed, dropping her foot to the ground and pacing a few steps away before turning back. “No one kills without leaving a trace, and why no assault? It’s basic serial killer psychology. The kill, or at least the procedure used, is always a ritual and there is always a sexual component. Always.”

  “Our killer isn’t a serial, at least not yet. He needs one more to earn that distinction. Still, you have a point. What if our suspect is impotent?”

  “In that case the murder weapon would substitute. Our victims would have been stabbed, probably repeated
ly.”

  “But they weren’t. They were sliced across two major arteries to ensure bleed-out as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

  “Bingo. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Well, one thing’s for sure. We’re not going to figure it out right now and we need a break. Maybe with some rest and fresh eyes we’ll see something we’re missing. Let’s head back to the office.”

  After they were on the way back to the visitor’s center, Jamison asked about Hex’s call to Detective Seaver.

  “She and Chase are going to check it out once she finishes with the sheriff. They’ll get back to me as quickly as they can. How’s your partner doing, by the way? I imagine she’s pretty rattled after opening that box.”

  “Lee?” Jamison smiled, keeping her eyes on the road. “She was a little upset, but I think she’s okay. She’s tough, a real city girl. She only moved to the Adirondacks last year.”

  “I can see why she stayed. The scenery is amazing.”

  Jamison’s eyebrow rose as she detected innuendo. She took Hex’s comment as an opening to share details, but Jamison wasn’t about to give a virtual stranger information about her private life. She had to remember this woman was a trained federal investigator. She needed her assistance to find a murderer, but Jamison’s primary responsibility was to the living, specifically the Panthera. Regardless of what happened, she couldn’t allow knowledge about a shape changing community to get out. Letting her guard down about private matters could lead down a road from which there was no return.

  Deliberately adopting a playful tone, Jamison asked, “Why Detective Hex, are you flirting with me?”

  Hex raised both hands and laughed. “No way, Kessler. I never mess with anything that’s not mine and that goes double for women.”

  So who was the eye-candy Hex had hinted at a moment before? At least they wouldn’t have to dance around the sexual orientation question. “Speaking of women, it looks like mine is already waiting for me.”

  Jamison pulled into the parking lot and stopped beside her Chevy Silverado. The bed was partially filled with photography equipment and she spotted Lee sitting on the front stoop to the building.