I take a deep breath and instantly wish I hadn’t. My stomach churns, and I glance at FBI Special Agent Wilson Blackbear, whose lips are turned down in a frown as he examines the scene in front of him. This man was once a friend in another life when I was a detective in Los Angeles, but now we can barely stand to be in the same room with each other. Wilson looked down on me as I left the department, and he went onto bigger and better things. Well, at least in his mind.
Tourmaline is my town. It’s relatively quiet and the reason I took the job. I got sick of rolling around in the filth of Los Angeles. After a while, you can’t get the stench off you. I looked at myself in the mirror after my partner was killed and realized I didn’t know who I was.
I breathe in through my mouth, and it makes the stench a little easier. Wilson looks up at me from his crouched-down position in front of the body, the frown on his face deepens.
“Well?” I ask.
“You know.”
“So you think it’s the same killer?”
Wilson stands, nostrils flared. “It has to be.” He backs up two paces, careful not to disturb any evidence. “How the fuck did you end up on his radar after all this time?”
I shrug. “Tourmaline is a safe place.”
“Not anymore. This makes four. Do we know who she is?”
I look down at the badly beaten face of the young woman.
“I think her name is Mary. She’s been trying to hang out with the Angels since she was fifteen. It was only after she came of age that they let her back into the compound. Mary’s been missing for a week. She must have done something to anger him… he didn’t keep her alive long.”
Wilson lets out a sigh and puffs out his cheeks. It makes the old bullet wound on his cheek look grotesque. He’s American Indian, and he’d be almost beautiful if it weren’t for the scar.
“Yeah, whatever she did, she angered him. The question is, do you think he’ll take another woman or stick to his agenda.” Wilson points to her face. “It’s overkill. He normally keeps them pretty.”
“He’s never deviated before.”
Wilson shrugs. “It’s been a while. Maybe this is his new normal, his new M.O.”
I shake my head. “No, the ritual is everything. If this is Mary, he’s left her out in the open for a reason.” I indicate to the house we’re in. “This isn’t his killing ground. He didn’t want to keep her safe and tucked away, he wanted her found. We need to find it, the place he buries his dead.”
“Did you get any ravens?”
I nod as my gut rolls over. “Yeah, he’s smart. He delivered them to one of my deputies. Guess he figured out I’d have cameras.”
“Hmmm, I need to call in a profiler. The Behavioral Analysis Unit might need to get involved.”
“Christ, that’s the last thing I need.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Sheriff, women are being killed,” replies Wilson with contempt.
“Fuck you, Wilson. This bastard has haunted my dreams for years. I don’t need you telling me anything. I want him caught. Hell, I want him dead! You’re not the one he sends the tapes to, the tapes of these poor women screaming ‘no, no.’ That was me.”
Wilson scrunches up his face and nods. “The tapes, have you received any?”
“No,” I reply, flatly.
“So, he has broken with tradition. Maybe it’s not the same man.”
“My gut tells me it’s him.”
“Your gut’s gone soft since you moved to the middle of fucking nowhere.”
I take a breath and count to ten.
“Wilson, I don’t know what your problem is, but we need to work together to figure this out.”
“No, we don’t.” Wilson turns his back to me, heading for the door. “The FBI thanks you for your help Sheriff Morales, but we’ll take it from here.”
The pompous ass walks out, and I’m left staring at the badly beaten body of a young woman who I knew. I crouch and look at her closely.
“What did you do, Mary… to upset him? Why did he do this to you?”
I stand and head for the door, the stench of Mary staining everything around me. When I get outside, Wilson is ordering my men around, none of whom are doing what he says.
My newest deputy is a woman, Lucy Dalton. I signal for her to come to me.
“Yes, Sheriff?”
“Deputy Dalton, make sure all courtesies are extended to Special Agent Blackbear.”
“Yes, sir. He’s a bit of a dick.”
I raise my eyebrows, surprised at her frankness.
“Best not let him hear you say that.” I smirk.
“Yes, sir. He wants us ‘country yokels’…” she makes quotations in the air, “… to keep out of the crime scene and wait for the FBI crime scene investigators to arrive. As if we’d stomp all over it! We want this bastard caught just like everyone else.”
I place a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t let him see he’s gotten under your skin. Don’t give the bastard the satisfaction. Do your job, you’re good at it.”
Deputy Dalton brightens at my compliment.
“You staying, Sheriff?”
“No. I’m going home.”
“I saw Izzy at the diner on my way here. You might want to make sure she gets home okay.”
I look at her sideways and push up my hat at the front. “You keeping tabs on me, Deputy?”
“It’s a small town. Things spread like wildfire. You should go to her, so she knows you’re safe.”
I shake my head and walk away. I know she’s right. Izzy will be worried as will all the patrons in the diner. I’m just not sure I’m ready to face any of them right now.
