Shattered by Death (A Jo Oliver Thriller Book 2) Read online

  “And?” Nick stepped alongside Gino and me, staring at the GTL.

  “The first two dots represent a gas station and a farmhouse. But the strongest heat stamp radiates from a point about half a mile that way.” Gino pointed his finger to the largest arrow on the dial, then extended it dramatically in the general direction of the eastern bluff. “So tell us, Josie, what would be out in that thick spot of woods? Are you not a member of the hunting club with rights to this land?”

  “I certainly am. Steinke’s Basin. And within Steinke’s Basin, there are three well-known deer blinds. But one is a bit bigger than the others. It’d make a great hideout. The occasional hunter coming and going on these bluffs wouldn’t raise suspicion this time of year. Hunters have been known to scout the area, watching the herds, counting does and fawns, searching for mushrooms maybe. Of course, coyotes are a popular target too. And a confident woman tramping through these woods at odd hours, wearing the right clothes and toting hunting gear around, wouldn’t be questioned.”

  But how would she get her victims there? Did she have help? Had she literally gone hunting with Angela?

  “And it’s not unusual for hunters to roam the woods in pairs. Nobody would be bothered by her bringing people hither and yon.” Gino was tracking with me, scanning the bluffs.

  “Bonus that it’s so close to Riverside… and to my mother.” The creep factor sent shivers up and down my spine. “How long has she been planning this killing spree?”

  “A lot longer than the string of vics from Del to Murray.” Nick was scrolling through his cell phone. “I took pictures of a few of the more disturbing client case files when I was doing my quick review. Listen to this excerpt, from nearly a year ago.” He turned the phone sideways and started to read. “The Chief presented in an agitated state, perseverating on the lack of justice in the juvenile system. Particularly upset over the abuse suffered by a foster child at the hands of her own parents prior to her being removed from their custody. Wishing they were dead—saying she’d like to kill them with her own hands. Her barely controlled anger troubles me greatly.” Nick’s voice trailed away into silence.

  Gino turned away from the bluffs to look at me. “Maldita! That one is nothing but an evil witch! How she has gained and exploited your confidence in every way will never be forgotten.” Crimson flooded his cheeks, and the GLT trembled in his grasp.

  “So, Sam’s parents—as I recall, there was an accident, verdad? Did they not burn to death? A very unpleasant way to go. So perhaps what looked, at the time, like another faulty wiring system in an old two flat in a poor neighborhood was much more than met the eye. Was really arson. La mala—it seems she likes to play with fire.”

  I’d felt no sorrow for them at the time, given the allegations of horrific child abuse I’d received unofficially from William, Sam’s case worker.

  But in the months after the fire, my life was forever changed as my heart wrapped itself around Samantha and fueled a new destiny—motherhood. Without the fire, there’d have been no Sam in my life.

  “So, if Kira has killed so many, she has burned alive, what else has she done? How long, and in how many other places has she hunted before?” Gino pulled the unthinkable out into the light.

  “She was part of the county infrastructure before my time.” I crossed my arms, counting back. “And it’s been what, almost five years for me?”

  “If memory serves, back then, she was still teaching at the university part time. Which would make it her sixth year here.” Nick added.

  He would know, right? Stop. I couldn’t go there. I’d been married at the time. And Kira was an attractive, single, professional barracuda of a woman. Just the way Nick liked them. But who had tracked who in that trade? Had she known even then how much Nick and I meant to each other? Was that why she’d chosen him? Or did her obsession with Nick lead her to me—her competition?

  Which came first, the me-obsession or the Nick-attraction? “So, you’re thinking that would’ve been an excellent pool for new prey?”

  “On it.” Nick looked up and stepped over to one of the FBI-emblazoned men milling around. He gestured to an SUV beside the agent, and they both got in.

  I shook my head and faced Gino. “More rabbit trails. Just what we don’t need. We just need to find Kira and Angela. So, back to Steinke’s Basin. I think we go directly to the tricked-out blind and see what we can see. My money’s on that being her home away from home.” I turned to follow the black SUV as it threaded its way toward us.

  Nick was at the wheel, with the dark-clad agent riding shotgun. He rolled to a stop in front of us. Gino opened one of the back doors and held it for me. I slid in behind Nick and whispered into his ear, “I got a bad feeling about this. What if we find something neither one of us want to face? Are you ready for that?”

  Nick froze for a few seconds. Had he heard me? Then he turned around to look at me, held his hands out to me. When I offered him my hand, he wrapped both of his around mine and held on tight for several seconds before responding. “I’m ready to face anything with you, beautiful.”

  Nick gave my hands a final squeeze and released them. Then he steered the SUV out of the cluttered parking lot, turning right out of the complex. He looked at me in the rear view mirror. “What’s the fastest route?”

  “Stay on Mine Road till you hit the stop sign. Then make a right and follow 123 for a couple miles. The park entrance will come up on the right, but it takes you to the camp sites. Pass it, and go another mile until you see an unmarked asphalt service road on your right, and take it.” I shifted my attention to the other agent. I touched him on the shoulder and stuck my hand out. “Chief Jo Oliver. Thanks for joining us on this death ride.”

  “Jack Hathoway. Known your buddy Nick for longer than I’d like.” The agent’s grip was firm. We all laughed and exchanged nods.

  The SUV bounced along the highway toward Steinke’s Basin. Nick and Gino spoke in hushed tones, planning what to do first, second, and third. Hathoway was monitoring other field agents as, one by one, the teams checked in.

  “Clear,” was all they said. They hadn’t found her yet.

  We crested a hill. The late afternoon sun was a gray ball streaked over by dark clouds. Trees littered the horizon, broken by a swath of asphalt streaming like a velvety ribbon adorning an emerald river.

  Just like when, a million years ago, my dad had driven an old red International pickup truck with a hard plastic steering wheel and a worn clutch. A seatbelt pinched my hips as I sang ancient spirituals in a low voice. Dad was smiling, tapping along with a thumb on the wheel, cigarette held between curling lips. I sat on two pillows so I could see over the dash as we drove through the night. I loved to watch signs of the night—bright eyes darting along the roadside, fireflies lighting up the trees like Christmas lights.

  Without warning, a buck bounded up out of the ditch, leaping over a culvert and into the road in front of us. My dad’s right arm sprang out, holding me against the seat back as he slammed on the brakes. We skidded to a stop, the buck frozen in place. Bright lights showcased him perfectly. Majestic figure, magnificent rack. One foot up, as if questioning whether to go forward or back. His brown eyes stared straight into mine. And for the first time ever, I fell in love.

  My dad let his arm fall from its protective position. “Look, kid. He’s a beauty. And he’s looking right at you. Must’ve been listening to you sing.”

  My six-year-old self marveled at the possibility.

  “Really, Dad?” My voice squeaked with excitement.

  “Really, kid. Animals hear us. They sense all kinds of things about us. They can tell a good man a mile away. Better ‘n us that way.”

  The glorious animal placed its hoof back on the pavement, faced the east bluff, and started to meander off the road. He stopped, turned back, and looked at me again. My little girl self morphed into me, watching him as he gave his impressive antlers a shake toward the narrow opening in the tree bank off the corner of the woods h
e was facing.

  “Stop here.”

  Nick threw me a confused look, but pulled the SUV off to the shoulder of the road.

  I opened my door and sprang out. There… a break in the tree line at the far corner of the bluff. “There. We start there.”

  Nick and Gino followed me in silence.

  “What the…?”

  I turned. Hathoway stood on the pavement, in front of the SUV’s hood, roughly where the buck had been in my vision.

  “Rule number one: Don’t question a country girl. Especially not in the woods.” I winked at him and continued my trek to the bluff, all three men trailing behind me.

  I stopped ten yards away. It was a typical home-made deer blind: weathered pine board sitting atop a sturdy old oak. Wooden steps nailed into the massive trunk. But reddish brown splotches trailed down the tree, streaking the boards. Something about it said it was recently abandoned. We wouldn’t find Kira here, but we might find something. Someone. I closed my eyes.

  God, please. I need You. I need Your supernatural strength. I need Your courage.

  Hathoway searched the perimeter, alternately bending down and looking up. Checking for explosives? Tripwires? Smart man.

  Gino and Nick stood together on the other side of the blind, facing me. Nick nodded at Gino, and he pulled the box from his pocket once again. What else could it do?

  Gino’s expression went from hopeful to frustrated as he scanned the scene with his latest toy. Whatever he was searching for wasn’t here. He broke the silence. “It is of no use. She is gone.”

  Gino put the box back into his coat pocket and stepped into the clearing.

  I’d seen him use a fancy gadget that could tell a live body from a dead one. Made sense he’d fuse one technology onto another.

  “There are only four live heat marks in this radius.” He kept his voice lowered.

  Respecting the dead? Please, God. Keep the courage coming. “But more than four bodies?”

  His other contraption could detect shapes, sizes. Sort of like a Lowrance fish finder, but for the Earth and her woodland creatures. Fish finders, deer finders, where’s the sport in all that?

  He nodded.

  Nick was at my side a fraction ahead of Gino. Nick touched my arm as I clicked the safety back on and holstered my Glock. He looked up at the blind, at the six two-by-twos leading up to it. “I’m going up.”

  He put a gloved hand on the lowest board.

  I shook my head. “My county. My party.” I put my hand over his. “Besides, you’ll love the view from down below.”

  I winked.

  He stepped aside, sank to one knee, and eyed me expectantly. Was he about to propose? He raised an eyebrow and patted his knee, offering me a boost. I smiled and placed one boot on his thigh, snapped some crime scene gloves on, and climbed up one ragged rung after another. I would probably have to slip on another pair of gloves by the time I reached the top.

  Strong coppery air wafted down to me as I climbed closer to the mouth of the blind. It was closed on three sides, with a primitive roof, pitched enough to keep the snow and ice sliding off when the weather warmed up. Larger hands than mine had held these makeshift rungs over the generations. But smaller hands than mine had left one perfect bloody handprint on the top board.

  I avoided the handprint. Finally, some real evidence. She had to be on the run so far and so fast she thought we’d never find her. Or decompensating. That happened, right? Killers came apart at the seams for no good reason? I kept my eyes trained on the bloody handprint. What horrible scene would I find inside the rickety blind?

  “And?” Nick must’ve read my body language. Knew I’d found something.

  “Handprint. Bloody. And small.” I kept my head down, letting my eyes find his. “Not looking forward to this next bit. The smell’s enough to knock a guy off a ladder.” I blanched as the wind shifted.

  “Good thing we sent up the girl.” He lifted his chin, encouraging me to do what I had to do.

  I nodded at him, breathing in deeply before straightening my head and facing the blind. The ceiling beams came in to view first, and I caught a glimpse of sky between the slats. I raised myself up on my toes and lifted one hand up to clutch the floor.

  Resistance. My hand pushed against something thin and taut, stretched across the doorway. Too tough to be a spider web. What could it—

  Trip wire!

  Too late. My hand had pushed past it, breaking the wire. I gasped, frozen in place.

  “Babe?” Nick’s voice was a heavy load of worry.

  I shook my head, alternately grabbing the wood step with one hand, and flexing the fingers of the other, taking inventory. I waited another several seconds to quell the shaking in my legs before responding. “Nothing. Fine. I’m fine. Definitely something here.” My muscles quivered. Finish the climb? Or go back? I’m here. I’m going in.

  I pushed my head up over the edge. Should have gone back. There was Angela Murray’s body, hanging from a rope, gutted like a deer. Dark red sludge trailed down her legs. She was wearing a black Lone Ranger mask.

  Bile rose in my throat. I could not, would not, puke all over the evidence. Focus. I pulled my eyes away from her. What was that? I took one step down the ladder. How long had it been since I’d touched the wire? Thirty seconds? Sixty? Nothing had happened. I shook my head and dropped my foot another step, descending the crude ladder. Retreating.

  The trill of a bell stopped me. Just as I wondered if it had sounded only in my head, it rang again. Coming from the blind. I patted the lip of the blind and found the small rectangular shape, folding it into my gloved hand. I moved the phone down with one hand to the other, still clinging to the board for dear life. Then I used the tip of my gloved finger to hit the green button. I studied the symbols, found the little speaker button, punched it.

  “Oliver.” I knew who it would be.

  “Josephine. I really hoped it would be you that answered my call. Still hanging in there? How do you like my little tableau?” Present tense. Is she watching me right now?

  Tiny fangs pierced my temples. “What do you want?”

  “Come on, Chief. Don’t play dumb. It’s beneath us both.”

  “You’re a coward.” White flashes of anger slowed my reaction times.

  “Oh, now you’re talking. Don’t stop. Please.” She paused, lowered her voice to a snarl. “How’s it feel to fail? How do you like knowing I’ll always be one step ahead of you? Knowing I’ll strike again, happily taking out the trash you weren’t woman enough to handle. You should be thanking me. How does it feel, knowing I’m better than you’ll ever be?”

  “You’re not better than me. You’re not anything. You’re like a cat, playing with her food, batting around a dead mouse.” Maybe she would make a mistake if I stooped to her level.

  “Now you’re just being a sore loser. What’s wrong, Jo? Trail gone cold? All out of moves?” Amusement laced her voice. We could’ve been talking about a card game.

  “I’m the loser? You’re taunting me in the middle of the woods, at a safe distance. Why don’t you heat it up a little? You won’t though, will you? You’re too much of a coward to give me a real clue. You don’t like it hot, do you Kira?” Please take the bait. Come on, Kira, you think you’re smarter than me? Prove it.

  “Oh, I like it plenty hot. No doubt about that. Just ask Nick.”

  Ouch. Should’ve seen that one coming.

  The line went dead. A river of ice gorged my veins, deadening my heart, and ravaging my lungs. The phone clunked out of my hand down the side of the tree, swooshing into the leaves below.

  “Just ask Nick.” My Nick? Or hers?

  The piercing darts of pain grew, burrowing deep into my forehead, drawing a tight band of steel around my head. Hot tears streaked down my face, and I clamped both eyes shut. Would I never find a man who wanted only me?

  “But why, Nick?” Had I just said that out loud?

  “Josie… Jo.” Nick’s soft voice rose to meet m
e. Was that pity in his tone?

  I moaned, swaying into the wind, two hands clinging to the same board. Not exactly stable.

  “No, beautiful. Don’t let her do this to us. You know better.” His voice was steady now. Growing stronger. Nearer.

  His hand grazed my calf, his touch evoking more tears. I shook my head. “Go away, Nick. I’m coming down. Get out of my way.” Ugh. Gino and Hathoway were listening. Down there, somewhere. Witnessing my weakness. Suck it up, girl! “I just need some room to maneuver. Don’t want to smash you in that pretty face of yours, Super Agent Man. Now, move… please.”

  Fragile bravado. It was the best I could muster.

  Theater in the wood. I’d done my part. What role would Nick choose to play? He lifted his hand from my leg and jumped down, cat-like, landing on all fours in the thick, damp leaves before pushing to his feet and stepping away.

  Thank you. Was it enough to keep my pride in tact in front of a relative stranger? Hathoway busied himself by marking off spots for the perimeter tape. If he’d seen or heard anything between us, he wasn’t letting on. God bless him.

  Gino’d seen and heard enough over the years. Now I could save time rehashing the details when we inevitably sat down to talk about it.

  Faces appeared through the foliage. Four men in FBI jackets emerged out of the woods and stood beside Nick. His cavalry had arrived.

  I let out a long breath and resumed my descent. Foot by foot, hand under hand. One last rustic step, and Gino’s arms circled my waist as I dropped to the forest floor beneath the monstrous tree house. And the body.

  I turned around to face him. Where had Nick wandered off to?

  “She was strung up like a deer, G. And she was wearing a mask. McCaskey was right.” My voice was an iron fist. “I’m gonna kill that witch. I swear, I am.” My words sliced the air like a burst of machine gun fire.