CHAPTER TWO
Faith checked her phone as Jessica parked their rental car in the parking lot of the Plano Animal Shelter.
When they landed, she got a text from her former partner, and current Special Agent-in-Charge of the Philadelphia Field Office Michael Prince.
In the middle of something right now. Will set something up immediately after.
That was good. David was under guard, and Michael was on the case. Michael knew her well enough to know that priority one was taking this completely out of David’s hands. It would be okay.
She took a deep breath, released it slowly, and stepped out of the car. Turk jumped after her, giving her yet another questioning look as they walked into the animal shelter.
“I’m fine, boy,” she lied, reaching down to ruffle his fur.
Plano was a satellite city of Dallas and Fort Worth, a little too dense to be suburban but not dense enough to be considered urban sprawl.
Traffic at this time of night was light but not empty.
It was consistently ranked as one of the safest cities both in Texas and the United States, which could be why the Plano Police Department wanted their help with this one.
Murder wasn’t unheard of here, but this had all the hallmarks of an unusual killer, potentially one of the highly organized spree killers Faith specialized in, and potentially one whose motivations revolved at least partially around animals.
The victim was an employee at an animal shelter, and she’d been killed in one of the animal pens with a note taped to her forehead.
They were greeted outside of the building by a tall, athletic police sergeant in his mid-forties. He shook Faith’s hand and nodded curtly. “Frank Hansen.”
“Faith Bold,” Faith replied. “Nice to meet you. This is my partner, Jessica Torres, and my K9 unit, Turk.”
Turk barked professionally, and Frank tipped the wide-brimmed Stetson hat he wore to the dog.
He shook Jessica’s hand, and Faith suppressed a wry smile at the way his eyes widened.
Jessica was a naturally blond, blue-eyed, athletic woman with a dazzling smile.
Faith was no slouch herself, but Jessica would be right at home on the cover of a magazine.
Besides, Faith wore a bright silver wedding band.
Yep, that’s right. I’m hitched to a wagon drawn by the world’s dumbest ox. Too bad for me, he’s an adorable idiot.
“Body’s in here,” Frank said.
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder and led the three agents into the building.
Faith scanned the interior as they headed to the crime scene.
The lobby was sparsely appointed, featuring a gray-painted counter, beige walls, and the thin, rough carpet that Faith thought of as motel special.
A few vinyl-upholstered chairs sat against the window across from the counter.
“This is a city facility?” she asked.
“County,” Frank replied. “That’s why it’s so welcoming and pretty.”
Jessica giggled, and Frank flashed her a slightly hopeful grin before his smile faded. “I should warn you guys. It’s not a pretty sight.”
“We’re used to that, unfortunately,” Faith replied.
Frank pushed open the door to the animal storage facility.
Faith’s lips thinned when she saw the steel cages with bare concrete floors.
They were all empty now, the animals having been removed temporarily while they looked at the crime scene, but Faith could imagine the poor dogs forced to stay here in these four-by-six-foot metal and concrete boxes.
What was so hard about making the place a little more comfortable for the animals? They had feelings too.
“Nice place,” Jessica quipped.
“Welcoming and pretty, like I said,” Frank remarked.
He pointed at one of the cages near the back of the room, and Faith got her first good look at the body.
Sarah Garrett was thirty-six years old, the same age as Faith.
She had the same light brown hair color as well.
She was a little plumper than Faith, but not overweight, and according to the brief bio Faith had read on the flight over, she was known for rehabilitating tough cases, dogs that others had no luck with.
And now, she was dead. A railroad spike had been shoved through her mouth so it came out the back of her skull.
Her teeth rested on the head of the spike, and her eyes were permanently fixed in an expression of shock.
She was sitting up against the back of the cage, and a scrap of paper was taped to her chin, not her forehead after all. It read KILLER in scrawled handwriting.
Jessica whistled. “Wow. Someone really did not like her.”
“He really didn’t,” Faith said.
“Why the note, do you think?” Jessica asked.
“So, we knew why,” Faith replied. “In the killer’s mind, this was a justified death.
They believed this woman was responsible for someone else’s death, or maybe another dog’s death.
She wasn’t punished the way they believe she should have been, so they took that into their own hands.
The note is to explain to us that this was the right thing to do.
This wasn’t just a murder. It was an execution. ”
“With a… what is that? A railroad spike?”
“Yes,” Faith said.
She bent low and looked at the spike. “Sure is. Looks used too. Rusty.”
“No, that’s the color they come in,” Frank said. “Red tone’s from the blood.” Faith looked at him, and he explained. “My cousin works for BNSF.”
“Got it. Any railroads in Plano?”
He chuckled. “Ma’am, this is Texas. There’s probably more railroad here than road.
You’ve got the DART rail for the metro area, you’ve got historical railroads, you’ve got the Union Pacific for freight, and then BNSF, the largest freight carrier in the United States, headquartered in Fort Worth.
And honestly, ma’am, those spikes cost two bucks apiece.
I have a few myself. I use ‘em to hang tools.”
Faith frowned. So, it didn’t narrow their suspect pool down. It still might tell them something about the killer. They’d used the spike to force Sarah’s mouth open. Was that forcing her to speak? To tell a truth she’d hidden before? Forcing her to stop speaking so she couldn’t lie?
Turk trotted forward, sniffing the body up and down and looking for clues. Frank watched him with interest. “Can he really find clues like that?”
“Oh yeah,” Faith replied. “He’s solved more cases than most detectives.”
“Huh. Well, I’ll be.”
Turk didn’t seem to be having much luck this time, though. He sniffed at Sarah for a little over a minute before snorting and returning to Faith’s side. Frank nodded and opined. “Probably smelling all the other dogs on her.”
“Could be,” Faith replied. “Who called it in?”
“Night watchman,” Frank said. “He watches the strip mall across the street, but they know him here. He noticed her car was still there about seven, two hours after the place closed, and he came to check.”
That put the call about an hour before Faith got the call from Torres. Plano PD had taken one look at the scene and passed the buck upstairs.
“He left his post to check instead of calling you guys?”
Frank shrugged. “It was the gentlemanly thing to do. That’s important out here.”
“Any security footage?” Faith asked.
“Of the exterior, yeah,” Frank replied. “Doesn’t show anyone suspicious entering. It shows Ray—that’s the night watchman across the street—coming to check it out, but it doesn’t show the inside or the back of the building.”
“So just the main entrance?”
“Yep. This isn’t the kind of worry people have out here, and since this is a county facility, there’s usually armed sheriff’s deputies and animal control officers here.”
“But not tonight?”
“Well, like I said, she was here late.”
“What about other entrances?” Jessica asked. “The killer got in somehow.”
Frank crossed his arms over his burly chest and lowered his head, pursing his lips in thought. “There’s the back entrance animal control enters. There should be a camera there too.”
“Let’s go check it out,” Jessica said. “Faith?”
“You go ahead. I’m going to look at the body more closely.”
Jessica nodded and Frank led her away to the rear entrance.
Faith nodded and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. She reached carefully forward and lifted the piece of paper. She saw no marks on Sarah’s skin and not much blood either.
She tried to picture the scene in her mind.
Sarah was in the pen working with a dog when the killer entered the building and approached.
The dogs were probably making noise, which allowed the killer to get close without being seen.
At some point, she has to see him because he killed her with the spike by shoving it into her mouth and up through her brain.
That would take a lot of strength. Even with a sharp spike, the skull was a difficult bone to penetrate. So, the killer was probably a strong man.
Jessica and Frank returned. “Security camera out back is disabled,” Jessica informed her.
Faith nodded. “Where’s the dog she was working with?”
“Sedated. Big ‘ol Rottweiler named Max. Rescued him from a dog fighting ring. Poor boy was beside himself when I got here.”
Faith glanced sideways at him. “You seem to know a lot about this place.”
“Yep, got a dog from here a while back. Australian Shepherd. Name was Rufus. Good dog. Died about four years ago, but I still stop in to chat from time to time.”
Faith looked back at the victim. “How well did you know Sarah?”
“Just by sight. I don’t see any of these people outside of the occasional stop by. We’re not exactly friends, just acquaintances.”
“So, you couldn’t tell me if there was someone new in Sarah’s life who might feel an urge to shove a railroad spike down her mouth because she was a killer?”
“No, can’t say I do.”
“Where’s Ray?” Jessica asked. “We should talk to him.”
“Oh, I sent him home. Guy was scared witless. He’s got an alibi, anyway. Cameras got him across the street and here. He didn’t come over until after she died.”
“How do you know that if there are no cameras on the inside?”
Frank reached up and scratched the top of his head. “Well, the coroner said she was killed just after dark. That’d be right around six o’clock this time of year. I guess he won’t rightly know until he performs the autopsy, though.”
Faith pulled the note off of the spike and held it up to the light.
It shone through the ink, and she could see the little tears and imperfections in the paper that proved this was actual handwriting and not something printed.
The writing was thick and jagged, like the blade of a knife.
Or a row of spikes. There was no doubt about it.
This killer was angry. “Do you have a handwriting analyst, Sergeant Hansen?”
“No, not so much. You want to keep that to compare handwriting with our suspects?”
“Yes, but before that, I want a handwriting expert to analyze it. They might be able to give us an idea who our killer might be.”
“From looking at handwriting?”
“Yes. It’s not foolproof, but it can be helpful, and since we don’t have anything else to go on right now, we might as well start there.
” She pulled a baggie from a pouch on her belt and dropped the note inside.
“I’ll send this to the Dallas Field Office.
They’ll have someone there who can take a look. ”
Frank nodded. “Wow. I thought that stuff was just for television.” When the two agents looked at him, he explained, “Looking at handwriting and stuff. I didn’t know that was real.”
Faith wanted to like the easygoing sergeant, but he was giving her the impression that he was a little na?ve. That wouldn’t be a problem as long as he didn’t get in the way, but it was a little frustrating to think of someone with authority in law enforcement whose judgment was this compromised.
Relax, it’s just the first night. You’re upset at David, and it’s coloring your thoughts.
That only reminded her about David and the fact that she wasn’t there with him. So, finish this up quickly and let’s get back home.
“I want to interview the staff,” she told Frank.
“Ray too,” Jessica added.
Frank nodded. “All right. I can make that happen first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you, sergeant. You can call your coroner to come take Miss Garrett.”
“Will do. Sure, do hope you find this asshole.”
Faith managed a smile. “Me too.”
The three FBI agents left the animal shelter. Faith was used to dealing with the most macabre oddities of the human race, and as far as oddities went, a railroad spike through the mouth was almost mundane compared to what Faith had seen.
Mundane didn’t always mean simple, though. People were very good at keeping secrets. This killer might look like they were broadcasting their feelings to the world, but they had left them nothing to connect them to this. Just a blunt statement of rage and hate.
One thing was for sure, though. A person with that much pent-up aggression would kill again. They had a taste for blood now. They wouldn’t stop until Faith and her partners stopped them.
And if they didn’t do it quickly, they’d find more rough scrawls taped to more dead bodies announcing the deaths of more innocent victims of an unstable person’s rage and frustration.