Full Circle (19 page)

"This is where the side porch was located," said Jack, looking around. "This side yard slopes downward and the porch was built maybe five feet off the ground at the lowest point of the slope. I used to play under there when I was a little kid. My father would dump sand under the porch, so it was like a giant sandbox."

One of the forensic experts was listening. "That would explain the high density of the sand here and would also explain those." He pointed to several large metal Tonka trucks and plastic Star Wars action figures.

Jack nodded. "Yeah, I remember those from a long time ago."

Agent Bill Coulter nodded, remembering his childhood favorites. "That's all I'm willing to say at the moment, Sheriff, Mr. Rawlings. Now I'm asking you to leave the site, return to your home. I've been informed that you two are an item. I'll find you when I need to talk to you again."

"I have a town to protect," Josie interrupted. "I have to tell the mayor and town council what's going on even if I can't give them a complete report."

"Keep a lid on as much as you can," Agent Coulter ordered. "No press conferences coming out of your office unless I authorize it."

"Five bodies, Agent Coulter. Maybe more. You're not going to keep this quiet very long. Call me as soon as you know anything," Josie ordered. "I'll have my deputies work out of the town hall until further notice, but we can't move the dispatch station, so you'll have to work around it.

Josie and Jack returned home, but did not attempt to go to bed because they knew they wouldn't sleep. The phones were eerily silent.

Jack sat down on the couch and pulled Josie down beside him as they held each other in silence. Eventually, Jack fixed a pot of coffee and Josie turned on the news. So far, the regional stations were not broadcasting any information. Along about four in the morning, the Westminster chimes went off, and they opened the door to Jimmy Richards.

"Is it true?" Jimmy demanded. "Has another body been found?"

"Where did you hear that?" Josie demanded.

"Mary Anne's Cousin Pat called her from Cedar Grove. Woke us up and said that another body, maybe more, was found," Jimmy exclaimed. "Is it true?"

"I can't comment until the FBI gives me the all clear," Josie told her friend.

Jimmy's eyes went big as he realized it was true.

"Go on back home or to work, Jimmy. I can't talk to you about it," Josie said gently.

"Yeah, well," stammered Jimmy. "Remember, I'm here if you need me, both of you."

"Thanks," Jack said, shutting the door.

"I'm going in," Josie said wearily. "I've got to find out what's happening. The Feds will cut me out of the loop if they can."

"I'll come with you."

She shook her head. "I'm the law, and they may not even let me in. You, they definitely won't, since it is your property. Remember the first-suspect rule. As the property owner, you will be the first suspect, so expect a lot more interrogations. Try to get some rest."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I know," Josie said as she burrowed into his chest for a few seconds of extra reassurance and her head came up. "You know what? If Agent Coulter wants to bypass the law in this town and play games, I can play, too. I want you to go to OC Trauma One. We're going to be swamped today deflecting the heat from the Feds. Someone representing us should be there for Charles, someone from Rawlings. He's one of us now. I know Georgina has contacted his family, and if it were under any other circumstances, I'd be there."

Jack gave a nod. "All right, I'll represent. I will also sniff around and find out what I can. If Trauma One is like any other hospital I've ever been in or around, you can pretty much gauge what's going on by where they have him and what they're doing to him, and by sticking close enough to listen to the family, nurses, and attendants. I'll swing by and get Buck. He and Charles seemed to be getting buddy-buddy, and it will keep him out of your hair. Tell Agent Coulter I'm doing this under your orders. I don't want him to think I'm trying to skip out of town."

"Good ideas all around," Josie agreed. She kissed him, and he headed out.

Josie's deputies, as well as Georgina, wandered in early, as she had. She didn't bother to ask if they had gotten any sleep, because they all looked as shocked and tired as she felt. The FBI and State officials set up shop in the sheriff's offices and refused entry to anyone except Georgina, and that was only because her dispatch area was cordoned off.

Josie shifted her work over into several rooms in the town hall and dispatched her deputies to patrol the town, telling them to do their jobs the same as any other day, but to keep their eyes open and their mouths shut.

It was mid-day when Agent Bill Coulter came into the temporary office Josie had set up in the town hall. He walked straight over to her and asked to see her in her office. Mayor Aiden Roland got to his feet, but Agent Coulter ignored him as he escorted Josie into the office and shut the door.

"Where is Mr. Rawlings, Sheriff?" Agent Coulter demanded.

"Jack is either still in Oklahoma City or on his way back by now."

"He shouldn't have left town," Agent Coulter said.

"I sent him as my representative along with Buck Marshall, my father, to Trauma One at OC Medical Center to check on Sheriff Charles Malone. He was hired to replace me, but was in a life-threatening car accident the day before yesterday. We stand by our own, Agent Coulter. Since I couldn't go myself or send any of my guys, I sent Jack and Buck to represent us. Do you want me to call him for his ETA?"

"Please," Agent Coulter said, looking aggravated.

Josie stepped through to another office, dialed Jack, and was back in less than a minute. "He should be pulling into town in about forty minutes. I told him to come directly here. Are you ready to give me some information or is this a scare tactic to drum up a suspect. If we have a serial killer running loose, it won't be Jack Rawlings. His whereabouts for the last two decades can be verified and time-stamped down to the last millisecond."

"I know. I've already pulled a file on him. You too, for that matter," said Agent Coulter.

"Are we dealing with a serial killer?" Josie asked.

"Have a seat," Agent Coulter offered.

"It's my office," Josie snapped.

"I don't want to step on your toes," Agent Coulter said.

"But you're going to stomp all over them, anyway," Josie said belligerently.

"Yes, I am. You don't have a serial killer. The FBI has a serial killer, and it's our job to find him. Kiowa County doesn't have the resources or the expertise to work on this case. However, we'll be tapping your intelligence as far as gathering information on the locals. These crimes may or may not have been perpetrated by a local. What we have for sure is a property with proximity to Interstate Highways 40 and 43, and Rural Routes 62 and 183. This property has been abandoned since Calvin Rawlings died, seventeen years ago. Someone decided it was the perfect location to dispose of bodies."

"How many," Josie asked.

Agent Coulter looked her square in the eye. "If we include the body found in the fire—six."

Josie took a deep breath. "What have you discovered so far?"

"A lot and nothing," Agent Coulter admitted. "Our murderer is thorough—almost ritualistic. We won't know exactly how they were murdered until the medical examiner finishes. Unless we're being led on a merry chase, we do have the identities of the victims."

"Already? How?" Josie demanded. "Won't you need DNA testing and forensic discovery?"

"Yes, and we will get to it. The victims were all women—no surprise there. Each one was buried with their purse, wallet and jewelry. I'm getting the statistics run now."

"So the killer wanted the bodies to be discovered," Josie guessed.

"Probably not. It's more likely the killer didn't think anyone would ever dig under the side-porch area. I suspect the killer set fire to the last body and the house because they didn't dare start digging again. After seventeen years, all of a sudden there was a lot of activity around their personal burial site. The killer probably set the fire, expecting to eliminate the evidence not knowing that fire rarely destroys all evidence of a body," Agent Coulter explained. "I'll leave the 'what the killer' thought or wanted and their likely motives to the profilers. We have six dead women at one site. Only one was burned, and we already have the statistics on her. The killer carefully wrapped the others in tarpaulins, positioned and buried them side-by-side. Forensic discovery will determine how they were killed and try to give us a timeline. Meanwhile, we will continue to search the surrounding property. I have been assigned as lead on this investigation, and I will need some temporary office space."

"You can continue to use the offices that you are occupying now, as long as you don't interfere with the dispatcher's job. If the mayor offers you space, don't accept. I won't bore you with small-town ineptitude, but we have a serious case of it." Josie grimaced. "I'm sorry, he might feel the same way about me, I don't know. What I do know is our community will be shocked to the core by this news. Nothing like this has ever happened here. This kind of crime simply doesn't happen here."

"It has now and most of your citizenry will be interviewed at some point. That's our job. Your job will be to run interference with the citizens, so I can gain their cooperation. You and whoever else is running this town need to try to keep it on an even keel."

"Will you keep me in the loop, cooperate with me, and not try to hide the facts?" Josie asked. "This is your case. I understand and appreciate that because I don't want to investigate the deaths of these six women. I do need to know what is going on, though. I know the people of this town, and I won't try to stonewall you or interfere with your business."

Agent Coulter nodded his head. "I appreciate that you are in the position to help me, Sheriff Raintree. I'm going to need that help. I'll release as much information as I can, as soon as I can."

Josie snorted. "That's the biggest loophole statement I've heard since I left the CIA, Agent Coulter. Don't underestimate me. All that does is piss me off."

"Understood and agreed, ma'am," Agent Coulter agreed with a straight face.

Jack snapped off the television and glared at Josie. "They're calling
him
the 'Sandbox Killer.' Someone released a picture of the toys they dug up with the bodies!"

"It's going to be worse after they release the photographs of the women," Josie warned. "The authorities have one more relative they are trying to locate. After that the FBI will release all the photos and statistics—where the women came from and when they were reported missing. I don't think they're ready yet to release the data on how they were killed. After ten days and hundreds of interviews, the FBI still has no suspect. They have a few fingerprints, but no matching prints on file. A lot of the DNA testing is not completed and probably won't be for months."

"We're under siege," Jack complained. "No one can go to the drug store or hardware store without some idiot pushing a microphone in their face and demanding an interview!"

"The news media is not allowed to impede anyone's progress on the sidewalks. We're giving tickets to everyone who violates that order, for all the good it does. I've told Aiden if he nullifies one more ticket, I'm going to fine him a thousand dollars for obstruction and take him straight to Justice Harris Montgomery. He likes playing the big man in town!"

"Someone spray-painted the back of the garage again last night or early this morning," said Jack changing the subject.

"What!" Josie sprinted for the back of the house, glad that none of the media could see this part of her house from the long-distance angle where they parked across the road from her property. "Damn it!"

"Obviously, the same person struck again," Jack said, looking at the fluorescent orange and black expletives sprayed across the repainted surface.

"Only now I have an idea who did it," Josie said, looking at the words Bitch! Slut! Cunt!

"Who," Jack demanded.

"Someone who fits those descriptions better than I do, I hope," Josie said with a grin as she strode off toward the carriage-house side door.

Jack caught up with her and held the door shut. "Who," he demanded.

"It will be okay, Jack," Josie soothed. "I can handle it. This is police business."