Chapter Six #2
“Would hate to disrupt you in any way,” Jeremy muttered.
Bree didn’t even look up. “That’s fine. The victim is irrelevant.”
Even Tanner had to wince a little at that one. Jeremy rolled his eyes and walked over to one of the computers and set the footage to play again.
“Okay, people, what do we see?” Penelope asked when it was done.
“She was already crying before the camera turned on. It was one of the times when she seemed not to be aware of the transmission at all,” Whitaker said.
“All right, so it’s one of her bad hours. Maybe she’s tired. Maybe he hurt her.” Penelope had them play the footage again.
There were so many things that could be happening to the poor woman to make her hysterical.
Hearing the modulated crying caused Tanner to look more closely at the screen. He walked over and stood next to Whitaker. “Your friend Shelby and the other victim.”
“Kelly Quinn,” Whitaker filled in for him.
“You didn’t find any links between them?”
“Nothing of any significance.”
“Did you check where they shop for clothes? They were both similar build, right? I know we don’t have great perspective from this footage, but looking at this new woman, she could possibly be about the same size also. Relatively petite. Slender.”
“Definitely worth a try.” Whitaker called Penelope over and she agreed it was worth redoubling their efforts to see if it led anywhere, and immediately got someone on it.
They played the footage again and Tanner stepped closer to the screens. The crying was so much more jarring with a voice regulator distorting it.
The killer wasn’t letting them see her face and wasn’t letting them hear her real voice.
Why?
Tanner looked over at Whitaker and Penelope. “You guys got any local celebrities missing or anything?”
Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Not that I’ve heard. Why?”
Tanner shrugged. “Just seems like an awful lot of work to use a voice modulator when we can’t see the victim’s face anyway. Leads me to think there might be something about her voice that’s unique. Something we’d recognize right off if we could see or hear her clearly.”
Whitaker muttered a curse. “You’re right. I can’t believe we didn’t think of that.”
Tanner slapped him on the shoulder. “Trying to figure out who framed me for murder gave me a better perspective on thinking outside the box.”
Whitaker had the good grace to look sheepish, since he’d been the person most convinced Tanner was guilty. “I’m glad something good came out of that.”
Penelope played the clip again. “Damn it. I think you’re right, Tanner. I haven’t heard anything about a well-known missing person, but we’ll put some feelers out immediately. But knowing the victim still isn’t going to help us get to her. We need the location.”
“Give Bree time,” he told her.
brEE WORKED ALL night long on the tracking without stopping.
Whitaker and another one of the detectives on the case, Leon Goulding, an African American man in his late twenties who’d joined the Dallas PD after Whitaker left, took Tanner to show him where the first two victims had been found.
None of them had found anything useful in either the woods or the empty restaurant, but at least it had given Tanner a frame of reference.
Then they’d taken him to the evidence room and shown him the boxes the dead women had been found in—identical to the one the woman from the footage was currently trapped in. The boxes were lying on a table side by side.
“They’re made of low-density polyethylene,” Leon said as Tanner walked around looking at them. “Basically the same thing trash cans are made from.”
Tanner nodded. “So they definitely wouldn’t have any problem holding water.”
Whitaker was studying the boxes too. “That’s correct. We even filled one of them to capacity to double-check. The seams are reinforced with an acrylic binder.”
Tanner took a closer look. “Like an aquarium.”
“Yes, exactly,” Leon said. “These boxes are the same size down to the millimeter, and as best we can tell, are pretty damn close to the size of the box in the footage.”
Tanner looked at the length of them. “There’s no way an average-sized man could fit in one of those. I think the killer might be choosing his victims based solely on their size.”
Whitaker nodded. “Body shape and size was the only thing we’ve been able to find in common between Shelby and Kelly Quinn.”
Tanner rubbed the back of his neck walking around the table. “He’s building a new box for each victim rather than reusing the one he has.”
“What does that mean?” Leon asked.
“I think the killer wants to be able to know the exact minute the victim will drown. He wants to control everything about her death. Control is his MO, and he’s left nothing to chance.”
The footage continued to arrive at the top of every hour all night also.
They went through twelve cycles, some where the woman was relatively calm, some where she was hysterical. Then, most disturbing, some when she began to realize the water dripping so slowly on her was eventually going to be what killed her.
She didn’t talk about that realization in every transmission, but when she did, it was heartbreaking. She wasn’t hysterical, wasn’t crying.
Just a whispered question. “The water. How long will it take before it fills up?” Like she was trying to work it out in her mind.
She’d mentioned the water three times in the last twelve hours. Almost like she was resigning herself to her fate. That was the last thing they wanted. The woman giving up hope would kill her quicker than anything.
Tanner had even caught Bree watching that footage with a frown—if Bree was stopping what she was doing to watch, that definitely meant it was pretty bad.
Somebody played the last clip again. Tanner couldn’t help but flinch as the woman talked about the water in her stoic voice.
Penelope came and stood next to him, offering him a cup of coffee. “Any idea how long before Bree might possibly have an update?”
“As soon as she knows something definitive, Bree will say. Asking her for updates now just slows her down.” He gestured toward the screen. “I know this feels pretty bleak, but we should have at least another thirty-six hours before that damn thing fills with water, right?”
“Actually, drowning is the best-case scenario. We consulted with a medical professional and unless that water temperature is carefully regulated she could die of hypothermia before she drowns.”
Tanner let out a curse. “So how long do we have?”
“Doc says she’s not showing any signs of hypothermia yet from what he can tell in the latest footage, so that’s good. But as the water gets deeper...”
Tanner glanced over at Bree. “I can ask her for an update, but I promise she’s working as hard as she can.
Bree only has one speed when it comes to this sort of thing, and believe me, it’s faster than you and I and probably everyone else in this room put together.
As soon as she’s got something she’ll let us know. ”
Penelope looked as if she was about to argue the point when Bree called out behind him.
“I’ve got something!”
Everyone got quiet. Tanner just smiled.