MurderedIin Conard County (Conard County: The Next Generation Book 40) Page 6

  Eventually she called it a day. A wider perimeter would need the help that Gus promised and it might be a wild-goose chase anyway.

  The killer was obviously skilled, had clearly taken great care not to leave a trail behind him.

  Which left the question: Why Jasper? And why when his kid was there? Was Jimmy an unexpected complication for him? Too late to back out?

  She seemed to remember one of the campers saying Jasper had brought his son up here just for the weekend. Yeah, if someone had been stalking him, Jimmy was probably a complete surprise.

  She found herself once again hoping Jimmy could forget that night. If he retained any memory of it at all, she hoped it was of a space blanket and a ride in a police car. Not what had happened inside that tent.

  Heading back, she passed the two cold deputies again. They no longer sat, but were moving from foot to foot. Too bad she hadn’t picked up another survival blanket to offer them. “Much longer?” she asked.

  Bolling looked at his watch. “A little less than an hour.”

  She nodded. “Keep warm.” As if they could do much about it without lighting a small fire, which they didn’t seem inclined to do. Maybe they didn’t know how.

  Shaking her head, knowing their relief was already on the way, she headed back to her truck, walking among the tall trees and the occasional brush that looked parched.

  The peace she usually found in these woods had been shattered, she realized. The niggling uneasiness she’d been trying to ignore hit her full force during her walk back to her truck. A killer had stalked these woods. He might still be out there. He might be watching even now. And he could always return to repeat his crime.

  She told herself not to be fanciful, but she’d spent time in a place where such threats were as real as the air she breathed and the ground she walked on.

  The guy could be out there right now, savoring his kill, enjoying his apparent success, wanting to see everything that happened. Hadn’t she read somewhere that criminals often came back to the scene, especially to watch the cops?

  Or it could be another kind of killer. The kind who got a kick out of reliving his actions. Who enjoyed the sense of power the killing gave him. Or the secret power of being so close to the very cops who were supposed to find him. Cat and mouse, maybe.

  His motivation scarcely mattered at this point, though it might become useful eventually. No, all that mattered right now was that these woods were haunted by the ghost of a dead man and the evil of a murderer. That a little boy’s cries might have soaked into the very trees and earth, leaving a psychic stain.

  God, was she losing it?

  But her step quickened anyway. Back to HQ. Back to check on her team. To call the sheriff and ask if they’d learned anything at all.

  Despite every effort to ignore the feeling, she paused and looked back twice. The sense of being watched persisted, even though she could detect nothing.

  An icy trickle ran down her spine.

  * * *

  A THOUSAND YARDS away in a small hide left by some hunter in a past season, Will and Karl peered through high-powered binoculars. They’d happened on this point during reconnaissance during their spring planning and were delighted with it.

  Here, below the tree line, there were few spots where one could see any great distance through the grid work of tree trunks and the laciness of tree branches. Not much brush under these trees, but not much open space for any appreciable distance.

  This was a natural forest, not one neatly replanted by a lumber company, which would have given them corridors to peer along. No, here nature did her best to scatter the trees everywhere, giving each a better chance at a long life.

  Some saplings added to the screening effect, huddled around the base of mother trees that, science had learned, actually provided nutrients to their offspring. On occasion, an older tree would sacrifice its life to ensure the growth of the new ones. Roots underground were carriers of messages and food.

  Will had read about it. It tickled him to think of how much a forest was invisibly intertwined. When he was in a fanciful mood, he’d sometimes close his eyes and imagine a brightly lit neural-type network running beneath his feet, messages passing among the sheltering trees.

  Then there was that massive fungus scientists had discovered under the ground that turned out to be a single organism covering square miles. As he started thinking about that, however, Karl spoke, shattering the moment.

  “Jeff did it.”

  Yes, he’d done it. The solitary tent surrounded by crime scene tape and the two deputies wandering around as if they wished they were anywhere else... It was all the diagram he needed. But he remained anyway, peering through the binoculars, both enjoying the success and wanting to annoy Karl, who felt no appreciation of the miracle under them, buried in the ground.

  Once he’d tried to tell Karl about it. Once was enough. It didn’t even matter to him that it was actual science. Not Karl. He prided himself on being hardheaded. Will could tell him about it, and Karl would absorb the information factually and move on, finding nothing entrancing about it.

  That was the only thing he didn’t like about Karl. Had never liked, even though they were good friends in every other way. Karl had a distinct lack of imagination. A trait that proved helpful in this endeavor, were Will to be honest about it.

  While he himself might see a network of patterns and possibilities and race down various avenues of attack, Karl remained firmly grounded in their scouting expeditions and what they knew and didn’t know. He wasn’t one to make even a small assumption.

  Although sending Jeff on this expedition had left them both wondering if he’d just walk into the nearest police station.

  They had that covered. Two against one, if Jeff tried to nail them, the two of them would nail him. They were each the other’s alibi.

  Not that they’d need one. This was their fifth kill in the last two summers, and neither he nor Karl had ever left a shred of evidence. Hell, the murders hadn’t even been linked to one another.

  They’d vastly overshadowed careless Leopold and Loeb. Funny, though, Will thought while watching the campground, seeing the ranger stray around out farther looking for something. He and Karl hadn’t been content to prove the point and stop at one.

  No. He and Karl had discovered a real taste for this kind of hunting. Deer could be slipperier, of course, but hunting a human? They weren’t nearly as evasive, but they were so much more dangerous to take down.

  It was always possible to leave traces, and cops would be looking, unlike when you took a deer during season with a license. They’d be paying attention to anything out of line. And if you weren’t cautious enough, your victim might get wind that he was being stalked.

  It wasn’t the top thing on most people’s minds, which had aided them, but one of their vics had had an almost preternatural sense that he was being followed. When they realized he seemed to be taking evasive action, they’d nearly salivated over the prospect of taking him out. A real challenge.

  He studied the campground below once again, satisfying himself that no one seemed to be acting as if there was something significant to find.

  Karl spoke, lowering his own binoculars. “Jeff’s a wimp. I still can’t believe he managed this.”

  “We kind of put him on the spot,” Will reminded him.

  Karl turned his head a bit to look at him. He shifted as if he were getting tired of lying on his stomach on the hard rock. “Would you have killed him?”

  “I said I would.”

  “But he’s one of us.”

  Will put down his own binoculars, lifting a brow. “He’s one of us until he screws us. How far do you trust him?”

  “More than I did a few days ago.”

  “Exactly. He’s in it all the way now. But if he’d backed off, neither of us would have had a choice.”


  Karl nodded. “I know. I wish to hell he hadn’t found out. Been jumpy since I learned he knew what we’re doing. He’s always been a bit of a coward. I like the guy, always have. We grew up together, went to college together. Joined the same fraternity, screwed the same girls...”

  “Hey, that’s almost as much of a crime these days as shooting someone.”

  Karl afforded one of his cold smiles. “Guess so, but I seem to remember those sorority gals fighting to get an invitation to our parties. And it wasn’t a secret we were looking to get laid.”

  “Usually that was true. I remember a few who didn’t seem to be clued in, though.”

  Karl nodded and lifted his binoculars again.

  There were a few, Will recalled. Girls who were taken by surprise and had to be silenced before they got someone in trouble. Silencing them had been pathetically easy, though. All they’d had to do was tell them the stories they’d make up about the girls. How they’d come off looking like two-bit hookers. The strength of the fraternity, its numbers.

  In a smaller way, he and Karl had that strength now, more so with Jeff actively involved.

  God, how had that man pieced it all together from a few snips of conversation he’d overheard between Will and Karl? Why had he even believed it? What had been the clue that had made Jeff realize it was no longer a game?

  Someday he was going to make Jeff spill the beans. But not yet. Jeff was entirely too nervous. He didn’t want to do anything that might make Jeff take flight.

  “I don’t like that ranger,” Karl remarked.

  Will picked up his binoculars, focused them again and found the woman. “Why not?”

  “She just picked up something from the ground and put it in her pocket. She’s actively searching outside the crime scene area.”

  “She won’t find anything useful,” Will said, although sudden uncertainty made his stomach sink.

  “She shouldn’t if Jeff did what we said. But she just found something and picked it up. I couldn’t tell what it was.”

  “Hell.”

  He zeroed in on the woman more closely, but she scanned the ground for a little while longer before waving to the deputies and heading for the parking lot. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry, which could well be the best news for them.

  At least until she started down the rutty walking path to the parking lot. Her step quickened, then quickened again and he saw her looking over her shoulder.

  “What the hell?” he muttered.

  She paused again and looked back.

  “She senses we’re watching,” Karl said abruptly. “Look at something else.”

  “But...” Will started.

  “No buts. If she’d found something she’d have showed it to the deputies. Instead she just stuck it in her pocket. Let it go.”

  Will, who’d been letting a lot go without much trouble for the last few years, suddenly found himself unable to do that. What had she picked up? It had been important enough to tuck in her pocket. Why hadn’t she given it to the deputies?

  Karl was probably right, he assured himself. But the way she’d looked back, twice... His stomach flipped again.

  “Let it go,” Karl said again. “People can often tell when they’re being watched. It’s some kind of instinct. But since she couldn’t see anyone, she’s probably convinced she imagined it.”

  “It would be easy enough,” Will remarked. His literal-minded Karl might not get it, but Will himself had no desire to be any closer to that campsite. Something might be lurking down there, although he didn’t want to put a name to it. He often told himself he didn’t believe in ghosts or all that crap.

  But the truth was, he feared they might exist.

  That was one thing he hadn’t considered when he’d embarked on this venture with his friends: that he might be collecting ghosts that could haunt him. Where was it written that they had to stay where they were killed?

  He swore under his breath and rolled onto his back, looking up at the graying sky. “It’s going to rain. Maybe we should go.”

  “It rarely rains up here.”

  “Don’t you smell it?” He had to get out of here. Now. Because he honestly felt as if something were watching him.

  “Well, we’re supposed to meet Jeff at the lodge this evening,” Karl said grudgingly. He pulled out a cigar from an inner pocket on his jacket. “Just a few puffs, first.”

  They were far enough away that the tobacco smell should waft away to the west, away from the campground and the deputies if it could even reach that far.

  Giving in, Will pulled out a cigar of his own and clipped the end with his pocket tool before lighting it from a butane lighter. Then he held the flame to Karl, who did the same. The cellophane wrappers got shoved deep into their pockets.

  It was relaxing, Will admitted to himself. Staring up at the graying sky that didn’t look all that threatening yet. Lying still, refusing to think about all the worrisome problems that had been stalking him since they embarked on this venture.

  Would he undo it? No way. He’d gotten thrills for a lifetime the last couple of years.

  “What’s eating you?” Karl asked after a few minutes. “You’re edgy.”

  Well, there was no way Will would tell him that he didn’t like being within range of the scenes where any of the victims had died. He stayed away once the deed was done. It was always Karl, whether it had been his kill or not, who wanted to go back and look the site over. Some quirk or odd fascination.

  “Coming back could be dangerous,” he said finally, although he didn’t say how. No need for that.

  “They would never look up here. You know that. We can look down on them, but when we checked it out two months ago, we realized this position was well shielded from below. Different sight lines. You know that. Besides, those deputies look bored out of their minds.”

  “Yeah.” He puffed on his cigar, liking the way it tasted and gave him a mild buzz. “That ranger was acting weird.”

  “She probably just wants the campground back. Funny, though,” Karl added.

  “Yeah?”

  “Every campground in the park emptied out. Talk about having an impact.”

  “Kind of a broad-brush response,” Will agreed. That hadn’t happened before. He pondered that reaction for the next ten minutes while drawing occasionally on his cigar. Maybe it was because this park was so small. While they’d chosen the most rustic of the campsites, farthest from the ranger’s cabin and the entrance, the distance wasn’t huge. If people thought a killer was hanging out in these woods, yeah, they’d get the hell out.

  Abruptly, he returned to the moment as a huge drop of rain hit the tip of his nose. While he wandered in his thoughts, the sky had darkened considerably, and for the first time, he heard the rumble of thunder.

  He spared a thought for those deputies standing guard below, not that he cared about them. The rain would mess up the scene even more, covering any inadvertent tracks Jeff might have left. Not that he thought any had been left. They’d picked a time when the campground would be full and well scuffed up by the campers. Probably covered with bits of their trash, as well.

  He looked at his cigar, hating to put it out. He bought only expensive ones and felt guiltier about wasting them than he felt about wasting food.

  He sat up and Karl did, too, after some raindrops splattered his face.

  “We’ve seen enough for now,” he told Karl.

  “Yeah. Jeff did the job. If he followed all his instructions, we’re clear.”

  Will looked at him. “Of course we’re clear. Why wouldn’t we be? He’s been doing the stalking part with us since the beginning. He practiced the approaches. He’s as good as either of us.”

  “Maybe.”

  Will sometimes thoroughly disliked Karl. Not for long, but there were moments. This was one of them. “No maybe a
bout it,” he said firmly.

  The sky opened up, settling the question of what to do with the cigar as sheets of rain fell. He cussed, ground out his cigar and tossed the stogie to the ground, kicking leaves and pine needles over it. The rain would take care of it. Karl followed suit.

  Together they rose, gave one last look back down the mountain, then started heading over the crest and back to their vehicle. Another successful hunt.

  Irritated as he’d begun to feel, Will smiled as the rain hid them in its gray veils. Jeff had graduated. Maybe they ought to throw him a small party.

  Chapter Five

  Gus spent a lot of time thinking about Blaire the next two days. He’d hated leaving her at night, knowing she was going to be all alone in the park. But he didn’t want to hover and make her feel that he was doubtful of her ability to care for herself.

  Dang, those campers from the other campgrounds had bailed even before the cops had released the folks at the crime scene. Word had traveled on the wind, apparently, and nobody wanted to be camping out here when there’d been a murder.

  An unusual murder. It wasn’t as if Jasper had been killed by his wife after an argument, or as if he’d gotten into a fight with someone else at the campground.

  No, to all appearances this shooter had been a stranger. That might change once the cops dug into Jasper’s background more deeply, but the people at the surrounding campgrounds weren’t going to take a chance that it wasn’t a grudge killing.

  Even a few of the national forest campgrounds had cleared out. The farther they were from the state park, the less likely people had been to leave, but there was still a marked quiet.

  Weird, especially since people booked sites months in advance to make sure they’d have a place to pitch a tent or park an RV. Weirder still when you considered how hard it was to find a place to camp anymore. Gone were the days he remembered from childhood where you could drop in almost any place and find a site.

  Anyway, once he got things sorted out with his staff, leaving Holly Booker in charge of the front office and the rest of his people out doing their regular jobs with guns on their hips and in their saddle holsters, he headed for Blaire’s place again. The need to check on her had been growing more powerful all day.