No Ordinary Killer (21 page)

“Tell me something … are you … I mean, I know we don’t
discuss personal things that much. But, are you dating anyone?”

“I have a boyfriend. Yes. Why?”

“Why, just wondering if you have a life outside your
job, that’s all. What’s his name? Where does he work?” The hair on her arm
prickled. Megan suddenly felt a need to know.

“Michael is a wonderful man. We met at a wine tasting
event right here in Great Falls. He’s so attentive and makes me feel like I’m
the only woman in the world for him.”

“What’s his last name? Maybe I know him.”

“Well, I … I … we aren’t sharing our relationship with
people just yet.”

“What? I’m confused. You’re keeping your relationship
a secret? Is he married?” Megan stood and walked across the room to the window.

“Not really a secret. You make everything sound so
mysterious. We’ve both been in unhealthy relationships. We’ve both been hurt.
This time we are making sure we are a fit before letting people know we’re a
couple. Saves us from all those questions we hate getting.”

Megan peered through the mini blind, glancing first
right, then left. An early hoarfrost covered everything. Trees, grass, and
fences all sparkled in the sunlight, glistening like a winter wonderland. “I
can understand that. So how long have you been seeing each other?”

“It feels like years, but it’s only been three months.
I actually think he’s a detective right here in Great Falls.”

“What do you mean you think? He hasn’t told you where
he works? That’s a bit spooky, don’t you think?”

“Yes and no. I mean I’m excited by his intrigue. He is
mysterious and that is actually a turn on, if you know what I mean.”

Megan smiled, thinking of her lover. Yes, she knew
exactly what Jessica meant. “Aren’t you a bit curious? I mean—“

“Sometimes. But he comes to me with so much passion
and I’m caught up in the moment that I don’t want to spoil things. After he
leaves, I wish I had asked him all sorts of questions. I can’t explain it. Now
I have this book to get out … I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

Megan tightened her ponytail. Oh, how she understood.
She wanted to blurt out that they might have the same lover. That thought
angered Megan. Where was this leading to? She was in so deep now. There was no
one she could turn to. “Working this hard does cut into one’s love life,
doesn’t it?” Megan tried sounding light and understanding. “You do realize that
I’m your friend, don’t you?”

“We have a professional relationship, Megan. I don’t
mix my personal life with my clients. It could get complicated if I did.”

Megan rolled her eyes upward, then shook her head. “So
you’re saying if you were in a bind you wouldn’t confide in me to help you
out?”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you know.” The long pause verified Megan’s
suspicions.

“I … you … you’d better get back to writing. The next
deadline date will be here before you know it. I’ll let you know when we are
ready for the first release. It’s going to be an exciting time.”

“If you say so. If you change your mind about
confiding—“

“Don’t be absurd. There’s nothing to confide. I’ll
keep in touch. Bye, Megan.”

The immediate click and buzz confirmed the situation.
Fear replaced suspicions. Her lover was now Jessica’s lover. Of that Megan had
no doubt. The one question her conversation with Jessica didn’t answer … was he
also the killer?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The faint sound of men’s voices caused Dallas to
tense. Did the killer get the drop on Cooper? Was this all a façade? Did Cooper
have an accomplice and arrange this little rendezvous to prove his innocence?
No, she really didn’t believe that. Her gut told her Cooper was in trouble.

She pressed her good shoulder into the boulder to help
get to her feet. Pain shot across her chest and nearly took her breath away.
Thank God the bullet hit her left shoulder and not right. She was a poor left
hand shot.

The mud had dried on her pant legs, making it
difficult to walk. It cracked and pealed as she made her way hopefully in the
direction she had heard the men’s voices. Blood loss made her weak. It took
great effort to move soundless across the dried twigs and fall leaves. Periodically
she paused and listened. Nothing. Was Cooper dead? Dallas didn’t want to
imagine it. What would she do? Where was the killer now?

She stopped dead in her tracks. The shadow of a figure
moved on the trail above and right of where she stood. He stopped and turned …
scanning the landscape below. Dallas held her breath and waited. Her shoulder
ached from her tense posture. Unmoving, she stared at the dark figure, afraid
he might spot her among the trees. It seemed as though he knew she stood there
and he wanted her to know it. What seemed like hours, the figure finally turned
back and hurried up the incline.

Her trembling legs nearly gave out as she worked her
way into the thicket. “Cooper?” she whispered. She paused and listened. The
wind rustled through the trees, sending leaves to the ground. Several ground
squirrels scampered from tree to tree. Several loud snaps sent her heart
pounding against her breast. She jumped and gasping leaned against a tree. A
deer and set of twin fawns ran past her, as if warning her of the dangers
ahead.

Dallas drew several deep breaths, struggling to get a
grip. She needed to find Cooper. With renewed strength she pressed on. What
seem an eternity of careful steps and pain, she saw him up ahead, unmoving on
the ground. Dallas swallowed hard. Was he dead? This was why she had decided
she would never become involved with any man who carried a gun. Each step
toward him jarred her shoulder and stabbed her heart. “Cooper Reynolds, you
damn well better not be dead.”

She dropped to her knees and leant over him. She felt
the presence behind her too late. The killer held her down while pressing a
cloth over her nose and mouth. In her weakened state she barely struggled
before collapsing.

* * *

Megan didn’t have time to worry about Jessica. She had
a second murder to start.
Physical
Evidence
was going to be her best book. She only hoped she lived to reap
the benefits. She wasn’t going to let her lover or the killer get the best of
her. Ever since she was a little girl she knew how to get what she wanted. This
was one time she was going to get it all.

A new envelope had appeared on her computer during the
night. That unsettled Megan to the core. A sticky note waved from the first
picture.

Megan, love. How naughty to
imply a detective might be the serial killer. I’m guessing you will obfuscate
this next chapter, so the reader doesn’t blatantly expect the killer to be a
policeman. In a way you disappoint me. You have more depth than placing the
blame so easily. Dig deep, Megan. Surely you can find a more worthy killer. If
you’re hell bent on a detective being your victim, then you might consider the
angle of the young detective who wants to get to the top fast. A detective who
doesn’t want to wait for a crime to happen so he creates one. How perfect for
him; he has the inside track to making all the facts and evidence fall into
place. He and his partner are heroes, are commended with nice raises and bright
shiny new shields. His team, however, gets nothing but ‘good job’. Give it some
thought. I know you can stir up the dirt on this one. Yours, Alter Ego.

Dropping to the chair, Megan re-read the note. The
killer was inferring that Cooper and Arnott actually committed the crimes in
Malicious Intent
, just to look good in
solving them. There was no way she would believe that. The killer was messing
with her mind.

Megan spread the pictures of the next case out on the
table. A twenty-five-year-old female, Sarah Betrovek, with wispy, long blonde
hair and blue eyes stared back at her. Immediately Megan noted the similarities
in appearance this victim had to the Bannack Murder. She reviewed the notes on
the case file.

Megan rubbed her forehead with the tips of her
fingers. Sarah Betrovek was a beautiful woman. Evidence showed post-mortem
mutilation of her buttocks and both thighs. She had repeatedly been raped. The
gory details suddenly didn’t seem all that exciting. The gruesome acts of this
killer were wearing on Megan’s nerves.

She placed her fingers on the keyboard and lightly
tapped them as a scene formed in her mind. As she typed, the scene took over.

Sarah Betrovek stared in
disbelief at her lover. “Why?”

“I said, take your clothes
off.”

“And I asked, why. It’s cold
out here. It’s a gravesite for Christ’s sake. Let’s go into one of the deserted
buildings. Hell, I’ll even make love in the old church if you want. But have
sex here, on a grave, hell no.”

“I thought you were the one
who said you’d have sex anywhere, the kinkier the better. Come on. The place is
closed for the winter. The sun is shining and I’m in the mood.”

“Look, honey. Her name was
Samantha Brown,” Sarah traced the lettering with her fingertip. “Her name
starts with my initials. That is too freaky. She was born in 1892 and I was
born in 1992. Did you do this on purpose? Not funny.”

“Can’t you see the
relevance?”

“What relevance.”

“In 1912 James LaFarge’s
fiancé, Samantha Brown, was found murdered right here on this spot. In those
days a popular event in Marysville was a drilling contest. Miners from all
around would compete for the World’s Drilling Record. On the night of such an
event, James found his young, beloved Samantha murdered. When I saw she had the
same initials in her name as you and was born one hundred years earlier, I knew
I had to show you this.”

“I think that’s too cool. But
why should we mess around here? Honest, honey, it isn’t a good thing. I mean
the girl was murdered here. Uh, how was she killed?”

“James’
mother gave his best friend, Tommy Cruse,
a loan. It seemed Tommy owed everyone money. He took that little loan and found
the Drumlummon vein and became a multi-millionaire. He named Marysville for its
first female resident, Mary Ralston.”

“Well, aren’t you a walking
history lesson. I didn’t realize you dug ghost town history.”

“There’s a lot about me you
don’t realize.”

“Fine. You still didn’t tell
me how she died.”

“James found her naked,
face-down, spread eagle in a sexually provocative position. Guess her jaw and
nose bones were broken and her neck had been snapped. James buried her on the
spot and had this wrought-iron fence placed around her grave to keep her safe.”

“Aw, that’s a sweet love
story. Did they catch her killer?”

“Since Barnard Graff often
made it known he favored the girl, the sheriff quickly strung him up for
Samantha’s murder. Most townspeople didn’t believe Barnard killed her. Some
even speculated that once Tommy struck it rich he felt everything in town
belonged to him, including his best friend’s girl, Samantha Brown. She refused
his advances and many believed she paid the ultimate price.”

“So if people believed Tommy
killed Samantha, why’d they string up poor Barnard?”

“It happened so fast, I guess
they didn’t get all their facts straight. It was a done deal and the law wasn’t
any different then, than they are now. They got it wrong.”

Megan leaned back in her chair. So, once again an
innocent man may have paid the price for a murder he didn’t commit. The plot of
her book was solid. The pattern was clear. The killer found cases where an
innocent man was found guilty of a crime. Then the killer would find a girl
with the same beginning initials and would create a similar murder, framing
someone other than the killer. The police would be the catalyst for the
innocent man’s conviction.

Megan paused … the killer was manipulating this book
toward this plot. She may have thought of it … but it panned out only because
of the cases presented to her.

Sipping tea, Megan mulled-over several questions. How
did Cooper fit into all of this? The killer definitely hated Cooper. Why? If
she could figure that scenario out, then maybe she could figure out who the
killer was. If he’s so willing to kill so many people, what would stop him from
killing her when the book was finished?

The killer wants the promotion and kudos of exposing
Cooper as the mastermind and most violent serial killer of all time. Was the
killer’s ultimate satisfaction the knowledge he’d been smart enough to fool
them all? In the end … an innocent man would pay the price for something he
didn’t do? Megan shook her head. This was big. This was fucking big. Who could
she go to with this concept? The only thing the killer couldn’t see or hear …
were her thoughts. She was screwed … in more ways than one.

This could easily make her a victim. If the killer was
her lover, then he had been planning to get revenge on Cooper for a very long
time. The thought was unsettling. What had Cooper done to deserve this? What if
she could uncover the real killer and reveal it in her book? Not only would it
be about past murders, but it would reveal the serial killer of six helpless
victims. She could show Cooper and the whole police department that she … and
she alone … uncovered the physical evidence to expose the killer behind the
biggest murder scheme in centuries.

Maybe she should contact Alex Petty, investigator for
James Airhart. She needed an outsider to follow her lover. She needed to know
who he was. More than once Alex had made no secret he wanted to bed her. James
made him back-off, but she didn’t erase him from future needs. Now she was glad
she hadn’t. She’d have to find a way to contact Alex without the killer or her
lover finding out. She had spotted a pay phone in the lobby. She would have to
take the chance. Nothing was going to get in her way.

Fingertips back on the keyboard, Megan forced herself to
concentrate.

 
“That’s sad. Come on … let’s check out those
old buildings.” She rubbed her fingers over the headstone one last time.

“You haven’t taken your
clothes off yet.”

“Well I’m not going to. Now
let’s check out the town or head back home. Either one is fine with me.”

“You don’t get it yet, do
you?”

“Get what?”

He moved in close and pulled
her hard against him. He sought her lips and pulled them in, hard and
demanding. As always, Sarah was up for the want. Seductively, she pressed
herself into him. She encouraged him to slip each button free, then the snap of
her bra. She giggled and allowed the items to fall to the ground. She had his
shirt off and worked at the metal button of his jeans as he worked on hers. She
held still as he pushed the material down her legs, kissing her skin as he
lowered them. She trembled from his touch, excited and thrilled at the
expectations it held.

“You taste incredible.”

He moved lower and she
trembled, stepping out of her jeans. He tossed them to the ground. She swayed
her hips seductively as he slid his palms up the sides of her legs. Grabbing
her buttocks, he lifted her and she straddled him, taking him fully. She rode
him hard until he suddenly went limp.

“What? Not again. Do you know
what that does to me? Maybe you should get some Viagra or one of those
enhancers so you can finish the job. You’re young enough to go at it for hours.
Are you fucking someone else? Because if you are … you can stay away from me.
Put me down.”

“Alley cat, you couldn’t be
satisfied if I stayed hard all night long. I have several other lovers, and
they have no complaints. You suck a man dry before he’s half-way there.”

“Meaning what exactly?”

“You’re insatiable and that’s
partly what I like about you. I am totally satisfied without having to beg for
more. On the other hand, there is no making you happy. That’s why you’re
perfect for my needs.”

She smiled, no longer angry.
“You say the sweetest things. I’ve always known I love sex and have to have it.
I’ve also known I need it more often than most. I’m not complaining, it suits
me. You want to give it another go?” She lay across their strewn clothes and
spread her legs in offer.

“Oh, I want to give you more
than you’ve ever had, Sarah. I promise you, tonight you’re actually going to
get more than you can handle.”

“I’ve heard that promise
before.” He moved down and entered her, straddling her, pinning her legs down.
She took the first punch in the nose. Tears flooded her eyes as the pain
exploded. “What the fuck? Get off me!”