I be?” Packer’s face filled with concern. “I don’t need a lawyer, do I?”
“These are just routine questions, Mr. Packer.” Jenna frowned at him. “The same as we’re asking everyone. I don’t intend to arrest you. Can anyone verify you were at home?”
“My wife, Aileen.”
“I’ll be sure to speak with her.” Jenna glanced at Kane. “Do you remember seeing anyone hanging around the house before Lindy went missing? Anyone we haven’t accounted for – we know about the gardening service, but did you happen to see anyone else?”
“Yeah, the security company had men crawlin’ all over.” Packer shrugged. “All that security didn’t do squat, did it?”
Kane wrote down the name of Packer’s wife. He wasn’t convinced he was telling the truth. The body language of the man, the way he folded his arms in a defensive manner, and covered his mouth as if to hide something, was a concern. When Jenna looked at him, he straightened.
“Do you have any questions for Mr. Packer?”
“Yeah, I do.” Kane cleared his throat and moved his attention back to Packer. “You spent some time in the army. Did they instruct you in the use of explosives and if so what did that entail?”
“Explosives?” Packer shook his head. “Nope, I don’t know about explosives. I’m a handyman, jack of all trades maybe, but blowin’ up things isn’t one of them.”
“Okay.” Kane whistled Duke and Jenna called the dog to her side.
“Thank you for your help, Mr. Packer. This is Duke; he came from the animal shelter.”
“Nice to meet you, Duke.” Packer offered his knuckle to the dog.
Kane waited in anticipation as Duke sniffed the man’s hand, then walked around in circles and flopped onto the manicured grass. He’d hoped Duke would give him a positive result but he still wouldn’t discount this man. The killer hadn’t left any DNA trace evidence but could’ve been wearing coveralls and gloves when he kidnapped Lindy. In his years of experience, he’d found most people became nervous when questioned by law enforcement, yet up to the point where Jenna had asked him to account for his whereabouts Packer had acted as if they were asking him about his favorite restaurant rather than a brutal murder. Most importantly, he’d caught him out in a lie. His background information on Mr. Packer clearly stated his experience in the use of explosives.
Fourteen
It was spring break and people filled the streets, enjoying the warmer days. The council had arranged a variety of local attractions in the park. He glanced up to see an escaped balloon drifting by on the wind. What he liked most about the western towns were the festivals; each contained a smorgasbord of delights and Black Rock Falls was no different. Kids of all ages on vacation from school swarmed all over town waving cotton candy or licking ice creams purchased from the street vendors. Mixing with them as they dashed from one store to the other or stopped to buy something from one of the many stalls lining the sidewalk made him feel like a kid in a candy store. So many to choose from, and all so vulnerable. He usually liked to pick out one and follow them, perhaps get close enough to smell their hair and listen to their mindless chatter. Not today, though. Today he had something more important to do.
He stepped inside Aunt Betty’s Café and, rather than order something to go then hurry back to work, he took a seat by the window and glanced at his watch. He had half an hour before anyone would miss him and sneaking around without anyone seeing him was one of his talents. He ordered his meal and leaned back in the wooden chair to admire a group of teenage girls walking past giggling and bumping into each other, taking selfies and acting the fool. He lifted the menu to cover his smile. There was the chosen one. Her long pale neck would be perfect to strangle. He bit back a moan, imagining the marks he’d leave behind.
He found something satisfying in the way they looked at him when he choked them. He enjoyed their terrified expressions so much, and he’d never killed them the first time but tightened the cord enough to make them black out. When they woke, alone and scared in the dark, they would be almost grateful to see him again. He would admire the deep red lines on their pristine flesh left from where he had tied them – but best of all, their voices would’ve gotten all husky. He would wait patiently for them to stop wailing and start to bargain with him.
In the end, he would kill them just to shut them up.
Fifteen
Deputy Jake Rowley leaned against his cruiser to wait for old Duke Walters to finish up at Aunt Betty’s Café. He’d have left at once but Walters refused to go without grabbing a bite of lunch. He went through his notes one last time as he waited for Walters to join him. He had a great deal of respect for the semi-retired deputy and when the sheriff placed him in a more senior position, it seemed surreal. Walters had been a deputy in Black Rock Falls for a long time and seen at least four sheriffs come and go.
A cool wind filled his open jacket, flapping it about like eagle’s wings. He glanced up at the sky, expecting to see rain or perhaps snow clouds drifting toward town, but the sky was blue from town over the green tips of the pines in Stanton Forest to the snowcapped mountain peaks beyond. He zipped his jacket and pulled his woolen cap down over his ears. Spring might be here but the cold weather would hang around for some time yet.
Walters gave him a friendly wave and pushed his Stetson down over his gray hair before weaving his way through the people on the sidewalk on the way to the cruiser. Rowley opened his door and slipped behind the wheel. He had pride in his new cruiser and winced when Walters filled the console with bags of food alongside his two go cups of coffee. “I’m sure we’ll have time to stop again if you’re hungry.”
“I’d say from the amount of food the sheriff provided, she expects us to keep going, but I’m too old for that now.” Walters fastened his seatbelt. “This type of killer don’t stop at one. I’ve seen his kind before; he ain’t looking for no ransom – he enjoys what he does.”
“Kane has the same opinion.” Rowley started the engine and backed out onto the road. “We’ll head straight to the custodian’s office at the high school and see if he knows exactly where McLeod and Lancaster are working today.”
“The janitor won’t be working all day.” Walters shrugged. “Most times it’s early morning and late afternoon but maybe it’s different when the kids are on vacation.”
Rowley moved slowly through the traffic and numerous jaywalkers then drove out of the main street and onto Stanton Road. The high school and college sat within a mile of each other opposite Stanton Forest. In less than ten minutes, he drove through the high school gates. He slid into a space in a practically empty parking lot reserved for the teachers. The moment he opened the door a cold alpine breeze smacked him in the face. The crisp clean air had the scent of pine and melting snow with the hint of wood-burning fires. He inhaled. One thing he loved about Black Rock Falls was the scenery. No matter where he stood, all around him magnificent vistas spread out in every direction. He waited for Walters and led the way to the custodian’s office. “It hasn’t changed since I went here.”
“That wasn’t that long ago.” Walters grinned at him. “For me it was a lifetime and I went to school on the other side of town – they demolished it some ten years ago and built the firehouse.”
It was strange, how the smell of a place evoked memories. The school had its own distinctive smell, a mixture of cleaning materials and dirty socks. Rowley made his way to the custodian’s office and knocked on the door. A deep voice instructed him to enter and he turned the doorknob and peered around the door. A man in his fifties got to his feet, an expression of alarm on his face.
“Is there a problem, Deputy?”
Rowley held up a hand in a calming gesture. “No, everything is fine. We’re chasing down a few leads in a case. Do you know if Mason Lancaster and Noah McLeod are working today?”