CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Morning had reached the Wilson Motel without improving it.
A thin wash of sunlight lay across the parking lot, catching on windshields and the metal rail outside the upper rooms. Fallen leaves had gathered along the curb overnight.
Somewhere beyond the motel, a truck changed gears on the highway, the sound carrying through the cool air before fading toward Elmsview.
Selena locked her room and crossed the walkway.
Kelly’s door stood four rooms down. Selena knocked twice.
Movement sounded inside, followed by something striking the floor and a muttered curse. The lock turned. Kelly opened the door wearing dark trousers, a white shirt, and an expression that suggested each item had required negotiation.
Her black hair had been pulled into a low knot, though several strands had escaped near her temples. Concealer failed to hide the shadows beneath her eyes. She held her jacket in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.
Selena took in the water. “Late night?”
Kelly winced. “Sorry. I overdid it a bit. I guess I got carried away with being home.”
Connor’s voice returned from the clearing beside Linda Mercer’s body.
Have you had a drink?
Selena had spent part of the drive back resenting the question and the rest knowing why he had asked it. Kelly had stayed at the motel, gone to bed, and arrived at the door ready for work. A lecture would accomplish nothing beyond passing Connor’s irritation to someone else.
“It’s okay,” Selena said. “I’ll drive.”
Relief softened Kelly’s posture. “Thanks.”
She stepped into the walkway and pulled the door shut.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Doctor Blethan’s.”
*
The Harlan County coroner’s office occupied a low brick annex behind the county administration building.
Blethan’s private clinic stood elsewhere in an aging house with peeling paint and a brass plaque by the door.
Selena had visited that building after Marlene Schmidt struck her with a lamp.
The coroner’s office was less personal and no more welcoming.
Two narrow windows faced the service lot.
A steel delivery door opened toward a covered bay used by funeral homes and county vehicles.
The public entrance sat beneath a faded sign naming three departments that had once shared the annex, though only the coroner’s office remained.
Selena parked near the rear fence.
Kelly removed sunglasses from her bag and put them on before stepping outside.
“That bad?” Selena asked.
“The sun’s unusually aggressive.”
“It’s eight-thirty.”
“It started early.”
Selena headed toward the entrance before the exchange could become friendly.
Inside, the reception area held six plastic chairs, a water dispenser, and a counter protected by a glass partition. A woman in her fifties sat behind it, entering information into a computer. Reading glasses rested low on her nose. A knitted cardigan hung over the back of her chair.
She glanced up as Selena and Kelly approached.
“Can I help you?”
Selena displayed her credentials. “Special Agent Selena Raven. This is Special Agent Kelly Voss. We’re here to see Doctor Blethan about the Sloane, Keller, and Mercer cases.”
The receptionist checked a paper appointment book beside the keyboard.
“You’re expected. I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”
She rose and disappeared through a secured door behind the counter.
Kelly removed the sunglasses. “Is he always based here?”
“He splits his time. This is the coroner’s office. His private clinic is in an old house across town.”
“That sounds complicated.”
“It is.”
Kelly studied the closed door. “What’s Blethan like?”
Selena chose a chair near the wall but remained standing beside it. “He and I have a colorful relationship. Let’s leave it at that.”
“That usually means someone shouted.”
“I don’t think he’s a big fan of city folk.”
“But we come from here.”
“That was a long time ago, for both of us.” Selena folded her arms. “Washington left its mark on me. I don’t know whether Seattle and Quantico did the same for you.”
Kelly leaned against the back of a chair. “Seattle did. Quantico mostly left me with knee pain and an aversion to institutional food.”
The answer invited more. Selena did not take it.
A printer worked somewhere beyond the secured door. The building carried the clean chemical odor of disinfectant, undercut by old paper and heating pipes. From deeper inside came the brief metallic clatter of a tray being moved.
Kelly’s attention shifted toward the corridor.
“Are the bodies here?”
“Karen and Ruth were. Blethan authorized Linda’s transport once Matt finished processing the car, so she arrived overnight.”
“And Blethan came straight back?”
“He was due this morning, but came back early. Connor said he had a family matter in Lexington.”
The secured door opened.
The receptionist held it for them. “He’ll see you now. Second door on the right.”
Selena thanked her and entered.
The corridor passed a records room and a tiled examination area visible through a narrow window. At the far end, double doors led toward the postmortem suite. The second office on the right stood open.
Doctor Alistair Blethan sat behind a desk crowded with folders.
He wore shirtsleeves beneath a dark waistcoat. His beard was full, with streaks of gray about it. Wide shoulders filled the chair. A carved walking stick leaned against the filing cabinet, though his bad knee did not appear to have stopped him from moving three thick case files before breakfast.
Blethan saw Selena and grinned.
“Head any better, lass?”
Kelly glanced at her. “An accident?”
“A suspect whacked me on the head a couple of months ago,” Selena said. “Blethan likes to say it made me more amiable.”
“It did,” Blethan said. “For almost ten minutes.”
His Scottish accent deepened around the laughter.
Kelly offered her hand. “Special Agent Kelly Voss.”
Blethan stood with care, favoring one knee, and shook it. “A second federal agent. Harlan County must be moving up in the world.”
“Or down,” Selena said.
“Still some work to do on the amiability, I see.”
Blethan lowered himself into the chair and motioned toward two seats facing the desk.
“Where’s Connor?” he asked.
“He’s consoling Linda Mercer’s husband.”
Blethan’s humor faded. He nodded once. “A hard conversation.”
“He’d already reported her missing,” Selena said. “Connor didn’t want a deputy delivering the news.”
“Aye. That sounds like him.” Blethan placed one broad hand over the top file. “Well, now I have two FBI agents to contend with. What would you like to know?”
Selena sat. Kelly took the chair beside her and opened a notebook.
“What do you have on the murders?” Selena asked.
Blethan removed his glasses from the desk and put them on.
“I completed the postmortems on Karen Sloane and Ruth Keller. Linda Mercer’s examination began this morning. I’ve not finished with her, so anything I tell you is preliminary.”
“Understood.”
“The three women were killed by penetrating wounds to the torso. Karen sustained four wounds. Ruth had three. Linda appears to have two, though I’ll confirm once I complete the internal examination.”
“Same weapon?” Kelly asked.
“Possibly,” Blethan said. “The wound dimensions are close, but the tongue injuries give me the stronger comparison.”
Selena leaned forward. “You can tell that from the tissue?”
“I can tell the kind of blade involved. Whether it was the exact same knife in all three attacks is another matter.”
Kelly set her pen against the page. “How can you be sure about the type?”
Blethan pushed away from the desk and moved toward a filing cabinet. His limp became more noticeable over the few steps. He opened the top drawer, searched through a set of envelopes, and returned with three enlarged photographs.
He placed them side by side.
Selena had seen worse in person. The clinical detail still made her stomach tighten. Each image showed the severed end of a tongue under bright examination lighting, the tissue cleaned sufficiently to reveal the cut margins.
Blethan pointed to a sequence of shallow, repeating ridges.
“There. And there.”
Kelly bent closer without touching the photographs. “Those marks are from serrations?”
“Aye. Parallel scalloping, spaced almost identically in all three. A kitchen knife can be serrated, but these teeth are broader and more aggressive. The smooth portion begins the cut. The serrated section tears as the blade is drawn through and withdrawn.”
“Designed to do maximum damage when pulled out,” Selena said.
“Precisely. Combat knives are built for penetration, grip, and damage. Some hunting and survival knives use similar features, so I wouldn’t restrict your search to military issue.”
“We could be looking for a soldier,” Selena said.
“Or someone who has an obsession with such things. Collectors. Hunters. Survivalists. People who buy frightening objects because they enjoy owning them. Don’t narrow the search by sex.”
Kelly said, “Could the same blade have caused the chest wounds?”
“It could. The wound lengths and one partially abraded margin are consistent with it. Soft tissue doesn’t give me a serial number. I can say the same type of knife was likely used for the stabbing and the mutilation.”
“Were the tongues removed before or after death?” Selena asked.
“After the fatal wounds, but while circulation remained. Very shortly before death or immediately after. The distinction may not be possible to make with certainty.”
Kelly wrote that down. “Any sign the victims were restrained?”
“Karen had defensive wounds. Ruth did as well. Linda’s wrists show no ligature marks. Nothing suggests prolonged captivity.”
“So, the killer approaches, attacks quickly, then takes the time to remove the tongue,” Selena said.
Blethan nodded. “The first violence is hurried. The mutilation is controlled.”
The difference mattered.
Rage brought the killer through the door. Purpose kept the knife in the killer’s hand afterward.
Selena sat back. “Okay. Three victims, all of similar ages, all killed and mutilated with the same or a similar combat knife. All three went to Elmsview High School.”
Kelly stopped writing.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she said. “Connor mentioned it, too, but I think it’s worth looking for another connection between them.”
Annoyance rose before Selena could examine it.
The school link was the first fact that joined all three women beyond geography and injury. They had spent hours searching records and interviewing suspects while Linda Mercer remained missing. Now Kelly wanted to step away from the strongest line they had.
“It seems pretty clear-cut what the connection is,” Selena said.
Kelly turned toward her. “They all lived in this area. Going to the same high school isn’t unusual when there are only a few schools within reach.”
“They attended during overlapping years.”
“Not the same year. Their ages aren’t exact, and we haven’t established that they knew one another at school.”
“They knew enough of the same people for it to matter.”
“Probably,” Kelly said. “But we should compare employers, clubs, churches, medical providers, property records, relationships, and any complaints they made. Karen moved away. Ruth stayed. Linda worked in Harlan. Something may have brought them together later.”
Selena heard the careful tone and disliked that, too. It made the disagreement sound as though Kelly was managing her.
“We have a serial killer selecting women from the same school period and cutting out their tongues. That isn’t background noise.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Then work the connection.”
“I am. I’m suggesting we don’t make it the only one.”
Blethan leaned back, hands folded over his stomach.
Selena caught the interest in his expression.
“Do what you want, Kelly,” she said. “If you want to go chasing shadows when we’ve got a perfect connection, that’s fine. You do that, and I’ll look into what matters.”
Silence followed.
Kelly’s pen remained between her fingers. She did not argue. The restraint should have ended the irritation. Instead, it left Selena feeling as if she had pushed harder than the moment required.
Blethan rocked his chair back by an inch.
“Well,” he said, “this was entertaining.”
Selena turned toward him. “Is there any other forensic evidence?”
His eyebrows lifted, but he allowed the subject to change.
“No foreign DNA on Karen Sloane or Ruth Keller. No usable unidentified prints at either scene, I’m afraid. Both locations contained mixed household prints, but nothing that survived comparison as an unknown offender profile.”
“What about trace evidence?” Kelly asked.
“Common fibers. Soil. Plant material from Karen’s drive. Nothing specific enough to help yet. Linda Mercer may give us more. Her vehicle and the barn created additional surfaces, but Matt Price has only begun processing them.”
“Any indication the bodies were moved?” Selena asked.
“Karen and Ruth died where they were found. Linda was killed inside the car or placed there almost immediately after death. Blood distribution should tell us more once I’ve completed the examination.”
“Time of death?”
“Karen’s estimate remains within the original late-afternoon-to-evening window. Ruth died several hours before her boyfriend found her. Linda had been dead at least a day when Connor located the car, possibly longer. Temperature changes inside the barn make precision difficult.”
Selena rose.
“Let us know as soon as you have anything on Linda.”
“I will.”
She offered her hand. “Thank you, Doctor.”
Blethan regarded it as if Selena had presented him with an unfamiliar instrument. Then he stood and shook it.
Behind her, Kelly closed the notebook.
Blethan released Selena’s hand and winked at Kelly.
“Will you look at that? The small-town kindnesses seem to be coming back.”
Selena withdrew her hand. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Aye. There she is.”
Selena left the office with Kelly at her back.
The corridor seemed narrower on the way out. The receptionist said goodbye from behind the glass partition, but Selena answered without slowing.
Outside, morning sunlight reflected from the roofs of parked cars. Kelly followed her toward the sedan without speaking.
Selena unlocked the doors.
The interview had given them a weapon profile, a pattern, and a clearer sequence of violence. It should have felt like progress.
Instead, Selena found herself unusually irked by all of it.