Chapter 8
Eight
Erin took a quick breath. “Wow. I really hope I’m not the reason this UNSUB started killing.” She frowned at Kaely. “Tell me the truth. Did you ask me here so I could help . . . or are you afraid I’m in some kind of danger?”
Kaely took a sip of coffee before meeting Erin’s gaze. “I’ve been straight with you. It’s for both reasons.”
Erin reached for her own coffee cup and took a long drink.
She wasn’t certain what to say. It seemed to her that Kaely was more concerned for her safety than she’d originally let on.
She appeared to be really worried about Erin, and Kaely didn’t spook easily.
Of course, if she’d been absolutely certain there was a threat, she never would have allowed her to drive alone to Fredericksburg.
“I’m sorry if you feel I should have been more forthright with you,” Kaely said, “but to be honest, I could be overreacting. Noah and I are just erring on the side of caution. Look, for now, don’t worry—at least not until we know we have something to worry about.”
“She’s right,” Nick said. “Like I told you, this investigation is in its infancy. Don’t make any assumptions yet. There’s really no reason to fear the worst.”
“I’ll . . . I’ll try not to.” Erin took a deep breath and then let it out, trying to calm her jangled nerves.
She frowned at Kaely. “Something is still bothering me. About all these killings happening in Virginia. Forget a minute about our relationship. Let’s look at the other murders.
Like you said, if he knows his actions will probably bring in the FBI .
. . I mean, why would he want that? If he’s as smart as it seems he is, he’d realize the FBI is more likely to help the police find him. ”
Kaely shrugged. “Maybe he’s taunting them. You know, trying to prove he can outwit them.”
“So Dan Harper has been notified about the similarities between his book and this crime scene. How did he react?” Erin asked.
“He wasn’t happy about it,” Nick said. “I think he was afraid someone might blame him for the murder.”
Erin sighed. “I can relate. When Kaely first told me about the killer modeling his murder from my book, the first thing I thought about was needing an alibi. Not that I needed to worry. Being somewhat agoraphobic actually helps me, since I rarely go anywhere.”
Kaely grinned. “I hear you, but I was fairly certain you weren’t involved anyway.”
“Fairly certain? Gee, thanks.” Erin looked at Nick. “Are investigators looking at the authors as suspects?”
“They have to be cleared, obviously,” Nick said.
“But from what I’ve been told from the police working the case, so far none of them, including you, are under suspicion.
Their preliminary investigation makes it pretty clear that none of the authors were anywhere near the location where the bodies were found.
None of you reside in Virginia. Tomorrow, you’ll be asked where you were when the killings happened, but since you live so far away, I think you’ll be fine. ”
“I could have driven here, killed someone, and then driven back,” Erin said.
Kaely grinned at her. “Doesn’t that cute police chief check up on you from time to time?”
Erin felt her cheeks get hot. “I guess so.”
“So, you think he’s cute?” Nick asked, one eyebrow raised.
Erin shook her head. “I think I’ll plead the fifth on that one.”
Kaely laughed. “You buy groceries, Erin. Get mail. Didn’t you tell me you recently had to put your car in the shop for repairs?”
She nodded.
“Then they would have written down your mileage. That should take care of any questions.”
“Make sure you tell them about your car,” Nick said. “It will prove you didn’t make the drive to Fredericksburg . . . until today.”
“Besides,” Kaely said, rolling her eyes, “you’re smart.
You would have created an unbreakable alibi that would keep you from any suspicion.
You would have come up with something to make it look impossible for you to have driven to Virginia .
. . three times . . . to kill people you don’t even know. ”
“Good point.” Erin sighed. “Can’t believe I’m actually even thinking about having an alibi. It’s absurd.”
“Of course it is,” Kaely said. “I know you. And Noah trusts my instincts. The idea of you being involved never crossed our minds. Not even for a second.”
“She’s right. Please don’t think about it anymore,” Nick said. “No one I’ve talked to seriously looked at you as a suspect. If I thought there was a chance of that, I wouldn’t have deputized you.”
“And I have a rule about not asking murderous psychopaths to stay in my guest room,” Kaely said.
Erin laughed. “That sounds like a good rule. Look, I really want to help find this guy. I’ve been going over it and over it in my mind, wondering why he picked my book.”
“I’m sure the other two authors are doing the same thing,” Kaely said. “But the truth is, our UNSUB probably just picked three popular books with murders he felt he could pull off.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Ready for the next one?” Nick asked
“Sure.” Erin shoved the photos to the side, also trying to push the image of the young woman’s horrified expression out of her mind.
“The first murder happened three months ago. This one is a month later.” Nick pulled several other photos from the folder and laid them on the table in front of Erin.
“This is copied from Toni Sue Smith’s novel, The Rosary Murders.
It happened in Virginia Beach. This woman was jogging in a local park.
She was attacked and stabbed. Rosary beads were placed in her hands.
She was found covered by a blue blanket and a lock of her hair was missing, just as in the book. Again, no trace evidence left behind.”
Erin started to say something but stopped when Kaely held her hand up.
“I already know what you’re going to say.
There should have been all kinds of trace evidence on the blanket.
But except for grass and leaves from the park, there was nothing.
And no prints on the beads. Investigators couldn’t find out who sold the beads because they’re so common.
Trying to track the origin of every pair purchased in the state was an impossible task. ”
“This guy clearly knows what he’s doing,” Nick said. “Some of us have wondered if he’s in law enforcement.” He shook his head. “Not something I want to consider, but unfortunately, investigators are looking into law enforcement personnel in the areas where the murders occurred.”
Nick took another photo from the stack and placed it in front of her.
“He left another poem at this scene. This time it was found in the victim’s pocket.
Again, no fingerprints. Printed on cheap, common copy paper, just like the other one.
Nothing there to help investigators. You’ll notice that the beginning of the poem is the same as the other. ”
Erin pulled the photo closer. She read the typewritten words on a creased piece of paper.
I am death, created by evil and fueled by hate.
I hold in my hands your ultimate fate.
You feel my presence as I draw near.
I feed on your anguish and relish your fear.
The Rosary Murders you quickly as you cling to your beads,
your fallen angels, and your blasphemous deeds.
Erin sighed. “Like you said, the first four lines are the same. He is establishing his hate for . . . something. But what? He really wants you to know that he’s copying the books,” she said. “It’s important to him.”
Nick nodded. “Yes.”
Erin looked through the photos carefully, trying to find something that might lead to the killer, but there wasn’t anything that made her think she was seeing something the FBI or the police had missed. This guy was slick. Erin pointed to one of the photos. “What’s that?”
Nick pulled it over to where she could see it.
“Oh, it’s a Beanie Baby. Like I said, she was killed in a park.
The police found several items left behind by families that frequented the park.
Just to be certain, they dusted everything for prints and looked for DNA.
Nothing. But it had rained for several days before the body was found.
It’s possible anything left on the items had been washed away. ”
“That Beanie Baby is called Amber the Tabby Cat,” Erin said. “I had one of those too.”
Kaely smiled at her. “You must have had a lot of toys.”
Erin had seen many crime scenes, and none of them had included a toy she’d once owned.
Now there were two of them. It felt strange, but Kaely was right.
It was obviously just a coincidence. The killer was going out of his way to stay true to the books, except for the poems. He wouldn’t leave toys behind.
It didn’t make any sense. She slowly pushed the photos away.
The next killing was the one she dreaded the most. Kaely and Nick were quiet and waited until Erin nodded. Then Nick removed the final photos.
Erin swung her gaze toward the kitchen window and looked out at the trees in Kaely’s backyard. Pear trees. They were full of white flowers. Not only were they hardy trees, they were extremely beautiful.
“Erin, you don’t have to look at this if it’s too difficult,” Kaely said softly. “I can describe it.”
Erin shook her head. “No. I need to see it. I mean, it’s my fault.”
Kaely reached over and grabbed her hand.
“I meant it when I told you not to go there. If you can’t separate yourself from this, you can’t help investigators.
Whoever’s behind this is the bad guy. Not you and not the other two authors.
That kind of reasoning is the same as someone who wants to blame a gun or a knife in the hands of a murderer.
A knife can kill someone, but it can also cut a piece of pie.
A gun in the hands of a cop can save a life.
Please don’t let this guy get inside your head. That’s exactly what he wants.”
Erin took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll try not to let those thoughts in my mind. I really do want to help. But it’s tough. Especially for someone like me. I’m pretty eager to blame myself for most things.”
“I hear you,” Nick said, “and I don’t mean to sound as if I don’t care, but we need someone who can see this dispassionately. So, what do you want to do? Play the victim or help us find this guy?”
“Wow. That’s a little harsh,” Erin said.
“I know, but it’s true. This is your choice.”
She wanted to be offended, but Nick was only trying to be straight with her. “Okay,” she said. “Show me.” She leaned forward. “Do you really think the UNSUB could be someone one of the authors knows?”
Kaely shrugged. “Maybe. When you talk to the investigator, they’ll ask you about that.”
“I . . . I hope that’s not true, but the thing is, I don’t believe it’s possible in my case. I don’t know anyone . . . really. I haven’t talked to the people I used to work with for a long time. And I certainly don’t keep in touch with the perps I’ve taken down.”
“Look, finding you isn’t tough,” Kaely said.
“You’re famous. Like you said, this guy is full of hate toward someone.
Maybe a parent or a guardian? Yet, we still need to look for any connection to the authors.
” She sighed. “Maybe if we were all isolated from birth, we could stem the tide of destruction that twists the souls of human beings, but the truth is, even that wouldn’t do it.
Sick minds find reasons for hate. It doesn’t have to make any sense.
That’s what makes it so hard to find them.
Like the poem says, they’re fueled by hate.
Hate that is beyond human comprehension. ”
“You’re talking about the devil, right?” A few months ago, Erin would have laughed at the idea of some kind of evil being whose goal was to destroy everything he could.
Whose heart beat with hate and envy. Who detested every single human being on earth.
But because of Kaely and the things she’d told her, Erin had started reading the Bible.
Although it still sounded a little crazy, she had to admit that the presence of an evil being who hated God and everyone He’d created was beginning to make some sense.
It would certainly explain some of the things she’d seen and experienced.
As a police officer, she’d looked into the eyes of extremely violent criminals and could have sworn she’d seen something staring back.
Something dark and malevolent. As if every trace of humanity was gone.
“Yes, I am,” Kaely said. “But let’s not talk about that now. I know you’re new to the concept.”
Nick sighed. “Working in law enforcement means we see the devil more than most people.”
So Nick believed in the devil too? Interesting.
“You’d be surprised at what I’m beginning to believe,” Erin said. She cleared her throat and looked down at the photos Nick had spread out on the table.
The first one was an exact replica of the murders in Dark Matters.
Only the top of the victim’s head showed in the water.
Then came the pictures after the woman’s body was pulled from the lake.
Her throat had been slashed. A concrete block was tied around her ankles, and her bright blue eyes stared up at the sky as if asking God why this had happened to her.
“The poem was found on a nearby picnic table. It had been placed in a plastic bag with a rock to hold it down. Again, no prints.”
Erin picked up the next photo and read.
I am death, created by evil and fueled by hate.
I hold in my hands your ultimate fate.
You feel my presence as I draw near.
I feed on your anguish and relish your fear.
And by the time you wake up and see that Dark Matters,
you’ll whisper my name while your life lies in tatters.
Erin jumped up from the table and ran to the kitchen sink where she threw up.