Chapter 4 Louise
LOUISE
“Why are they doing the search so late?” Margie’s voice had turned small and loaded with concern.
“They’ve been searching all day. We’re coming up on the tail end of it. I’m sure this will be the last one of the day.”
“Better be, with this weather,” Miles muttered.
“And no sign of her whatsoever?” Margie asked.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“When was the last time you two had talked?”
“Six months ago. I reached out to her recently but never heard back.”
Margie shook her head. “So, so sad. I heard you two were close.”
My jaw twitched. No one knew how close Kara and I were. And now, she’s missing.
Another moment of silence passed.
“So, how do you two know each other?” Miles asked Austin and Margie.
“Well, we don’t, really.” Margie glanced at Austin.
Apparently she was going to be the speaker of the two.
“Austin’s a volunteer officer when he’s in town.
When my dad mentioned someone was organizing a search for Kara, I asked Austin if he wanted to go too.
We had five other people from church signed up to come, but because of the weather, they backed out.
Can’t blame them. Austin offered to drive me. ”
“How long have you been volunteering with the department?” Miles asked Austin.
“A few years. Passes the time when I’m not deployed.”
“What branch?”
“Army.”
“Good for you. And thank you for your service.”
Miles’s appreciation landed like a dead weight. I got the vibe that perhaps Austin’s experience in the military wasn’t a great one.
“What about you guys?” Margie returned the question. “How long have you known each other?”
“We volunteered together at the Sunshine Club,” Miles said. “Then Lou here went and got all businesswoman on me, and I never saw her again.”
I snorted. If being a businesswoman meant living barely above the poverty level, then yep, I was the most successful businesswoman on the planet. But I absolutely loved what I did, and to me, that’s what mattered.
“Not until she called me up asking me to come on this search, anyway,” he said.
“The Sunshine Club. Is that where you met Kara?”
I nodded. “I was her assigned buddy in the program. We became close.”
“I heard her mom was abusive.”
I hesitated before responding. Abusive was an understatement, but Kara had shared the details in confidence. And I kept secrets.
“I don’t think she had a good home life,” I said instead.
“It’s been two weeks since anyone has seen or heard from her, right?”
“Thirteen days, to be exact. Her friend began to worry after Kara didn’t respond to her calls or texts for a week. The next day, her friend called me, remembering I’d been Kara’s assigned buddy in the program. The day after, I called the cops. Five days later, BSPD organized an official search.”
“Why didn’t the friend call the cops herself?”
“Shauna—that’s her name—isn’t exactly a model citizen. The less interaction with the cops, the better. Her words, not mine.”
“Has her mom been interviewed?” Austin asked.
I glanced in the rearview mirror. “According to the officer I spoke with at the police department, yes. Kara hadn’t been home since her eighteenth birthday, four months ago.”
“Her mom hasn’t seen her since then?” Margie asked, horrified by this.
I nodded.
“How awful.” A heavy moment ticked by. Finally, Margie addressed the elephant in the room. “Do you guys think it could be the String Strangler?”
Miles glanced at me, and my fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
“Why are you so sure she’s dead?” Austin asked.
My stomach twisting, I nodded. “Good point.”
“No one has seen or heard from her in two weeks,” Margie said. “She travels to Berry Springs to visit a haunted house, and bam, she’s gone. Seems suspicious to me.”
“That’s incorrect,” I said, shaking my head. “According to Shauna, Kara’s main reason for coming to Berry Springs was to go camping with someone she’d recently met. No one knows who that person is.”
“But I heard she’d planned to visit that famous haunted house while she was here. Hollow Hill Estate, I think it’s called.”
“She’d mentioned she was going to check it out, but no one really knows.”
Margie shivered. “I looked the place up on the internet. It’s so creepy.”
That’s an understatement. Hollow Hill was an abandoned plantation-style house built in the 1940s, rumored to be haunted by a family of four who were brutally murdered while sleeping—a man, his wife, and twin girls.
Over the years, the estate became a popular spot for local teens to smoke pot and play Ouija, and for tourists to visit while passing through town.
Kara hung out with the pot-smoking Ouija crowd, so it made sense.
“Isn’t that where we’re searching?” Margie pressed. “Next to the estate?”
I nodded. “There’s a campground a few miles west of Hollow Hill. It’s the only other campground in town, besides the one we searched last night. The cops have already searched the estate. Tonight, I believe we’re searching the area in between.”
Silence settled over the cab.
Margie stared out the window. “The String Strangler supposedly lives in this area,” she whispered, almost to herself.
“That’s hearsay,” Austin said.
Miles shook his head. “No. He has to. All six of the victims lived within a sixty-mile radius of Berry Springs.”
“Five,” I said, correcting him.
“I heard six.”
“Five victims.”
“Hopefully not six now,” Margie muttered.
I rolled my eyes, but we’d all been thinking the same thing.
Ever since the news broke that Kara had gone missing, everyone suspected the String Strangler.
Her profile fit the other victims. The String Strangler preyed on young at-risk teens.
His youngest victim was fifteen, the oldest twenty-one.
The five girls were raped, beaten, then strangled to death with a thin ligature.
It was his signature, hence the name. Each woman was disposed of in a wooded area—naked, battered, and bruised.
The String Strangler had become sensationalized, some even suggesting he was a ghost, neither dead nor alive.
The devil himself, lurking in the mountains of Berry Springs.
Five women dead, and the FBI had no leads on the guy, according to what I’d read.
No DNA left on any of the women, no trace evidence, nothing in their cell phones or computers that linked back to the killer.
Nothing.
And what made him even more elusive was the fact that his first victim was over a decade ago.
In my research, I learned that most killing sprees are triggered by something—an emotional event or milestone—and last only a short period of time, usually before the killer is either caught or kills himself.
The notorious Ted Bundy killed over a span of only four years.
There are a few famous exceptions, like Dennis Rader, the BTK Strangler, who killed ten people between 1974 and 1991; Jeffrey Dahmer, who murdered seventeen males between 1978 and 1991; and Terry Blair, who raped and murdered an estimated seven women in Kansas City over a span of two decades.
All three of these men lived “normal” lives, only killing when the mood struck them.
It was assumed that the String Strangler also lived a normal, mundane life and likely walked among us, hunting for his next victim. But no one knew for sure because he never left a trace. A phantom, indeed.
A phantom who’d haunted my dreams since I learned of Kara’s disappearance.
“You know, my dad didn’t want me to come today,” Margie said. “But I feel like someone from the church should be a part of the search.” She laughed, although there wasn’t much humor in it. “I wore the cross necklace my mom gave me.”
“Because that will keep the Strangler away?” Miles asked sarcastically.
“How much longer?” Austin interrupted.
“According to my map here, we’ve still got twenty more minutes.”
“Are they expecting us?”
I nodded. “I’ve been in communication with the detective on the case, Tommy Darby. I’ve also chatted with the chief a few times. Prickly fella.”
“I know Kara would appreciate everything you’ve done,” Margie said.
My stomach clenched. I only hope it’s not too late.