Chapter Nineteen
WES
I swallowed down my trepidation as I climbed down from the bus and set my feet on the asphalt.
My legs suddenly felt shaky. I really hoped Captain Sorensen didn’t have more bad news.
Seeing a murdered body in the flesh had been enough to turn my stomach this morning.
I didn’t need anything else to go wrong.
“I hope you don’t mind me pulling you out, Mr. Chaudry. I just wasn’t sure you wanted to discuss your business in front of Lincoln Snow and his team.”
“W-what business?” I stammered.
“I got a call from Detective Ryan this morning. It seems they may know who chased you the other day.”
So much had gone on in the last couple of days, I’d almost forgotten about my flight from armed men who’d been trying to kill me, but it all came rushing back with his words. I felt my eyes go wide. “They know who it is?”
“It’s very possible. Detective Ryan and his partner have been working with the detective investigating the murder and it seems they’ve solved that crime.”
I opened my mouth, closing it again as something occurred to me. “They’ve solved the murder, but I get the idea that’s not the end of it.”
The captain shook his head. “They haven’t caught the man or his accomplices, but they know who they are, thanks in part to you.”
“But why do you suppose they came after me to begin with? I don’t know anything about a murder.”
He shook his head sadly. “I don’t know that. When Cassidy called me this morning, I was already headed out here after Agent Smith informed me of the murder in the camp.”
“So, it’s likely that I might still be in danger.”
He pursed his lips, frowning slightly. “I won’t lie to you.
It’s entirely possible, but there’s no reason to speculate.
I’m sure the detectives will give you their thoughts on the matter when they speak to you.
” He reached out and took hold of my shoulder, squeezing it before letting his hand drop.
“Don’t worry. There’s no possible way they know you’re here, Mr. Chaudry, and if there was even the smallest chance they do, you’re surrounded by the best trained FBI agents in the country. ”
I nodded, absently reaching up to rub knuckles over my breastbone to make the fear in my chest go away.
“I told Detective Ryan that you’ll probably be here for several hours, but he and his partner will want to talk with you afterward…either here or somewhere else.”
“Can Patsy come with me?” I blurted.
He smiled and I noticed how kind the expression made him look when I’d only ever thought of him as looking fierce before now. “Of course, Patsy can go with you.”
I let out a long breath, realizing I’d been waiting for the last shoe to drop. “Thank you, Captain.” I hesitated a moment. “Please call me Wes.” I held out a hand then noted how awkward he appeared as he shook it.
“If you’ll call me Candy.”
“Thank you, Candy.”
He nodded sharply. “All right, let’s get back to the others so I can update them on what I learned from the LAPD.”
“Okay.” I climbed back into the bus and he followed, shutting the door behind him.
Patsy watched me closely, leaning over the second I returned to my seat. “What was that all about?”
I smiled at him, setting my hand on his thigh as I put my lips close to his ear. “Detectives Ryan and Williams think they know who the men are who chased me,” I whispered. His eyes widened so I squeezed his thigh. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“What happened out there, Candy?” Rex Monroe asked.
The captain looked grim as he took a seat on the bench across from us. “Well, first of all, the man isn’t the only victim in the camp last night.”
“What?” Patsy asked as I sat up straight.
“While I was speaking to the officers at the scene, a woman came running over to report finding a second body.”
“Really?”
Candy nodded. “Yes, apparently another man who looks very much like the first one, was found inside his tent about a hundred yards from the first. He was beaten and strangled just like the man by the latrines.”
“Ya got a look at the body I take it?” Patsy asked.
“It took convincing the police sergeant who’s now on the scene, but yes, he let me pop my head into the tent for a minute after I informed him the FBI was there as part of an investigation related to a serial killer case.”
“And he looks like the bloke we saw this mornin’?” Patsy asked.
“Very much so. He was the same height and build and also beaten and strangled with a ligature. The victim’s tent had been ransacked according to his neighbor who’s familiar with what he keeps in there.”
“The killer was lookin’ for somethin’,” Patsy said.
Candy nodded. “The LAPD thinks so, but they have no idea what.”
“Did the ME determine time of death for either man, Captain Sorensen?” Snow asked.
Candy looked over at him. “That’s what took me so long. I waited for her to get liver temps from both victims. Each man was killed sometime early this morning, probably shortly before dawn, but within an hour or so of each other.”
“And you said they look a lot like each other?” Dr. Reeves asked.
Candy nodded. “Well, it’s hard to be certain due to the severity of the beating each man endured, but I’d say so.”
I looked at Patsy. “Maybe one of them was the thief you caught snooping around the tent last night,” I said.
Patsy shook his head. “Don’t think so. He wouldn’t’ve had time to come back if he was killed before dawn. That’s about the time someone came to our tent.”
I furrowed my brow, then shook my head. I wasn’t a detective or an FBI agent, so my mind didn’t normally stray to the dark places in a criminal’s mind.
The closest I came to being an investigator was watching old reruns of Murder She Wrote.
Still… “Well, something’s been bugging me.
What if the guy who stole from us was followed by the serial killer? ”
Patsy looked at me. “So, yer sayin’ that the guy we caught might’ve also stolen from the serial killer?”
“It’s possible, right?” I asked. “If the serial killer was stalking the thief, he might have seen him at our tent and thought he lived there.”
“But what kind of thing would the serial killer have to steal?” Rex asked. “Somethin’ important enough to beat a couple of guys to death?”
I sat up straighter. “If a lot of people had stuff stolen from our thief, don’t you think they would have talked about it around the camp?”
“Yes, they probably would. It’d be a big deal in a camp filled with people who have almost nothing,” Snow said. “Someone who possesses very little would feel very out of sorts to lose something precious to them, and an old family Bible, especially.”
Patsy nodded. “I agree. When we were at the bonfire last night, we met two guys who could talk the hind legs off a donkey. They mentioned somethin’ about lots of homeless folks goin’ about mutterin’ things.
” He looked sharply at me. “Do you remember them sayin’ there was one particular guy constantly doin’ a moan and carryin’ on about ‘Rapunzel, so pretty,’ to whoever would listen? ”
I felt my eyes go wide. “Oh, my God! Rapunzel. Long, blonde hair.”
“Shite!” Patsy’s eyelids shuttered as the realization swept over him.
“Do you think he could be the killer?”
He only stared at me as his eyelids flicked open.
“People would have compared notes, and it was probably well known inside the camp who was stealing things,” I said. “But from what they said, the guy was crazy, muttering all the time.”
“I remember hearing those men mention it while you were talking to them,” Candy said.
Patsy dragged his gaze from me and looked at Candy and the others. “He might have been the thief, right?”
“He might have been the thief, yes,” Dr. Reeves said, “but someone who mutters to himself like that, more likely suffers from schizophrenia and would be unable to be the killer we’re seeking.” He thought for a moment. “It doesn’t mean the thief didn’t take something from the serial killer, though.”
“But what would the serial killer have worth taking?” Alain queried.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“The hair.”
I looked at Dr. Reeves who was exchanging a glance with his husband.
SA Prince nodded. “His trophies.”
I sat forward as something dawned on me. “My mother kept a locket of my baby sister’s blonde hair in her Bible.” I pointed to the bag with the Bible in it, feeling my hands shaking. “Is it in there?”
Lincoln donned gloves and pulled out the Bible to show me. I shook harder as he gently rifled through the pages, stopping at the small pocket at the back. The hair was gone. “Oh, my God!” I looked up at the others. “It’s gone. My sister’s hair is gone!”
“Ah, fuck me,” Patsy said, reaching up to scrub both hands over his face.
“That could be it. The thief nicked the serial killers trophies and then went searchin’ for the guy who took ‘em.” He looked at me.
“When he found the hair in yer Bible, it must have been a boon for him. He took the hair to add to his other collection of trophies, includin’ hair he stole from the serial killer. ”
“That would follow, Patsy,” Candy said. “If he had only a general description of the thief, he might have tortured the first guy who looked like him for information.”
“How so?”
“If the man by the latrines convinced the serial killer he didn’t steal his trophies, he might have tortured him to get an idea of who else the thief could be.”
“So, let me get this straight,” Snow said. “Someone steals the serial’s trophies and he’s frantically trying to get them back. He’s heard about this thief, so he goes on the hunt for him. He kills the first guy but not until he’s extracted information from him about who else the thief could be.”
“That might be the way of it,” Patsy said. “So, armed with a list of people who might be the thief, he goes lookin’ for the next one, then kills him either before—or after—tossin’ his place, and then moves on to our tent because someone saw him lurkin’ around there.”