Twisted (24 page)

“More to go on than before? Before what?” Just then an icy finger seemed to move down my spine, not only chilling me, but causing panic to rise in me. I squelched it down and looked at the sheriff. “You think the guy that tried to kidnap Mike is the West Coast Cutter, don’t you?”

“I can’t say that it hasn’t crossed my mind quite a few times in the last hour or so.”

“I thought that he went after hustlers or street kids.”

“I’d appreciate you not mentioning this, Jeff, but some of the victims haven’t been identified, and there are a couple who did not fit that mold. In fact, one of the victims was straight. It looks more and more like the killer is opportunistic as well as targeting certain individuals. I’d imagine that a victim like Mike, or you, or any guy skiing along the trail would appeal to his sense of control and power. Cross-country skiing is hard work, and it stands to reason that guys doing that exercise would be physically fit. Most serial killings or sexual murders are more for power and control rather than just sex. Or it could be the murderer gets off on having control over life and death, or gets off on seeing pain and fear.”

“That’s really sick.”

Just then the doctor who had seen me came in with Agent Holder. “Here they are, Agent.” He then looked at a screen which was hooked up to a device on my hand near the IV. “Mr. Connelly, I’m going to take the IV out now. It looks like your temperature is back up to normal. You’re free to get dressed and go.” He handed me a bag. “I had your clothes put in the dryer, so they’re nice and dry.”

“Thanks, doctor. Do you mind if I stay here with Mike?”

“That’s fine.” He moved over to Mike’s bed and looked at the monitor. “He should be coming around soon. I would ask you to try not to upset him.”

“I’m sure I won’t be anywhere near as upsettin’ to him as the fact he was almost kidnapped.” The doctor chuckled and turned away.

Holder spoke up. “So what happened?”

“Someone tried to kidnap Mike.”

“Give me the details.”

“I just went over the details with the sheriff.”

“Jeff, humor me, go over them again with me.” I began the story again. He stopped me and asked questions occasionally. Finally, after I was finished with the story and he was done with the questions, he sighed.

“You were both very lucky—Mike that his skis got caught in the door of the van, and you that he didn’t run over you.” The sheriff looked at him.

“I’m kind of surprised that Jeff didn’t try and jump in the back of the van to get at the guy.”

“I didn’t think of it at the time,” I muttered.

“What was that?” Holder spoke up, but they were both looking at me.

“I said I didn’t think to jump in the van at the time. I had stabbed him with my ski pole and was tryin’ to get at him from the driver’s door.” Holder looked at me and then at the sheriff.

“You’re kidding me.” Before I could say anything, the sheriff answered.

“No, Agent Holder, he’s not. Jeff has been known to act before thinking before, right, Jeff?” I knew he was thinking of a few times when cattle were being rustled from the ranch. The worst example was the time one of the rustlers tried to break into the ranch, and I chased him out into the freezing drizzle without a stitch of clothes on. I got hypothermia real bad. Holder shook his head.

“Jeff, this guy has to be smart. He’s a twisted SOB, but don’t underestimate his intelligence. To get away with so many murders and to be able to overpower healthy, athletic men means he thinks about what he does. If you had gotten in the van, the chances of you being shot or drugged would have been pretty high.” I heard the sheriff’s phone buzz, and he excused himself.

“So you think it was the West Coast Cutter too, Agent Holder?”

“I do. Although with the blood on your ski pole and on the ice, we should be able to compare DNA from two of the previous killings.” Just then I felt a squeeze on my hand, the hand I was holding with Mike. I jumped up, regardless of the fact that all I had on was a hospital gown. Mike’s eyes were open.

“Jeffy, what happened?”

Before I could answer, Holder was up. “Mike, how about you tell me what you remember before Jeff fills you in? I want to hear what you saw before you two compare notes.”

I smiled at Mike. “You okay, buddy?”

“I feel like I been rode hard and put away wet.”

“How about you answer Agent Holder’s question while I get dressed.” I bent over and gave Mike a kiss. I could tell Holder didn’t like public displays of affection, but I couldn’t care less.

“Okay. Agent Holder, what do you want to know?”

“Just start at the beginning with what you remember.”

“Jeffy and I decided to go out skiin’, since the moon was so bright, and it was such a beautiful evenin’. We were havin’ a nice time. Jeffy taught me how to skate-ski a coupla weeks ago, so I wanted to practice. I asked him to watch me and give me some pointers. We were at the top of the hill that heads down into the sno-park at Green’s Farm. I skied ahead. When I was about halfway down, I saw some idiot had parked, blockin’ about half of the trailhead. When I got closer, I noticed it was a dark blue van. I skied to the side of it and noticed the door was open. Just then someone jumped out. I could tell it was a guy from the feel of his body when he grabbed me. I tried to pull his mask off but only got it off a bit, he pulled it back on, but I did see he had a light brown or blond goatee. Then he shoved something in my face. That’s all I remember until now.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No.”

“Well, we know a fair amount more than we did earlier, like an approximation of his hair color.” Just then the sheriff came in.

“The van was found in the mall parking lot in Wenatchee. It had been reported stolen in Seattle just a day or so ago.”

Agent Holder looked at the sheriff. “How do we know it’s the same van?”

“The blood inside of the driver’s side. Plus it matches the description. Jeff, from the amount of blood, you must have really done a number on his leg. Agent Holder, I’ve put out a bulletin with doctors and medical providers to be on the lookout for someone with a leg injury like that.”

“Good. Maybe it’ll get infected where he needs medical attention.”

Mike looked at me. “What happened, Jeffy? What did he put in my face?”

“He put a rag with chloroform over your nose and mouth. Then he tried to get you in the van. Your skis got caught in the door. When he saw he couldn’t get away with you, he threw you out of the van and jumped in the driver’s seat. I got there and stabbed him with the tip of my ski pole. He took off then. You were out like a light and had hit your head on the ground. I was worried about you, so after I called the sheriff and 911, I sat down on the ground and pulled you up on me so you wouldn’t be on the ice. Then I covered you with my jacket. Paramedics got there in about twenty minutes.”

“How long have I been out?”

“About six hours now.”

“My head hurts like a mother. Can we go home?”

“Doctor wants to keep you overnight for observation, just to make sure there’s no side effects from the chloroform.”

“Where are we?”

“The clinic in Twisp. Do you want me to call your dad?”

“I ain’t sure on that. I don’t want him cryin’ all over me.”

“I reckon he’s gonna find out somehow. If you don’t want visitors, ain’t it better if I call him, let him know you’re okay, and tell him he can stop by the house?”

“Whatever. I still feel really groggy. I’m gonna go to sleep. You gonna be here, Jeffy?”

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away, buddy.”

“You try to get some sleep, okay?”

“I’ll sleep when I know you’re a hundred percent better.” He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost immediately. Both the sheriff and Agent Holder offered to take me home, but I wanted to stay with Mike. Sheriff Johnston said he’d come by in the morning and give us both a ride home. When they left, I climbed up on the bed they’d had me in earlier and fell asleep.

T
HE
day was just about done. Twilight was coming on, and the shadows outside the big picture windows in the living room were lengthening. I was sitting on the couch. Mike was lying down with his feet in my lap. I had my laptop over his feet and was typing away. Mike was looking at his dad.

“For the thousandth time, will you stop carryin’ on like I died or something? I was lucky. Jeffy got me away from that bastard, and the doctor wouldn’t have let me outta the hospital this mornin’ if I wasn’t okay.”

“I know, Mike. It just really messes with my mind, to have just found you and to almost lose you for good. I’m just so glad you’re fine.” I felt Mike tense a bit. I was waiting for him to shoot a remark at his father, but he bit his tongue. After a moment he spoke up.

“I appreciate that, okay? It messes with my mind to have you so freaked out. Right now I just wanna forget about it. I’m fine, I feel fine, and I’m home safe.” He looked away from his dad and at me.

“What ya doin’, Jeffy?”

“Just lookin’ to see what I can find about the West Coast Cutter. Agent Holder had told me a little about different types of serial killers, and I want to see what type the Cutter is.”

“Really. What did you find so far?”

“I’ve been—”

Just then Mike’s dad broke in. “Jeff, do you think it’s a good idea to pursue this killer? From what you, Mike, and your friends tell me, you were almost killed just a couple of months ago, when you were going after the cattle thieves.”

“Don’t worry, Al. I’m not pursuing him. I just wanna see if I can put what Holder told me to the Cutter. Hell, by now he’s probably down in California.”

I turned to Mike. “To answer your question, buddy, I’ve just been lookin’ at his victims. He seems to have a type. Everyone is sayin’ that he goes after hustlers and guys who won’t be missed, but there have been other victims that don’t fit that mold. His victim type doesn’t seem to be gay men, rather just men.”

“Why do you say that?” Both Mike and his dad were lookin’ at me with interest.

“All the guys he’s killed so far are similar in type. All of ’em are fairly tall, five eleven or taller, muscular, and have facial hair. He goes after athletic guys. He’s snatched a jogger and a hiker. They range in age from seventeen to thirty-one. Most have been openly gay, but a few seemed not to have been. He seems to like guys in jeans and boots of some sort, but not always. If it was him though, Mike, you’re the only blond guy he’s gone after. All the others have had dark hair. The police think that he sees a guy and stalks him for a few days until he can get him alone.”

Al was giving me a strange look. “Jeff, Mike, are you guys sure that Mike was the intended target?”

“I’m the one he chloroformed, ain’t I?”

“Yes, Mike, you were, but was he able to see you clearly enough to tell you two apart? It was dark, you were wearing a hat, and from seeing you two come in from skiing, you probably had ice all over your beard.”

“If he wasn’t after me, then who was he after?” As Mike spoke, it seemed like an icy hand took hold of my heart. I felt a chill, despite the warmth of the room.

I turned to Al. “You reckon he was after me, don’t ya?”

“Think about it, Jeff. You both have the same build and are the same height. You both fit the type that you just described, other than Mike has blond hair. Your hair is dark. Also, from what you two have told me, usually when you two ski, you’re in the front since you’re the more experienced skier.”

“That’s bullshit! It’s gotta be.” Mike flashed an angry look at his father.

“Mike, I’d like to think that he isn’t after either of you. You’re both pretty famous though, after the magazine articles last fall. I’d hope it was just a random chance he or whoever went after you, but if it isn’t, you two need to be prepared and careful.”

“That’s an interesting theory, Guidry. Where did you come up with that?” I looked over at the doorway. Agent Holder was standing there. He’d obviously been listening to our conversation. Al flushed red.

“It just occurred to me when Jeff and Mike were talking. I hope I’m wrong.” Holder stared at him a few minutes. He then looked at me and Mike.

“We’ll know if there is any link to the other murders when the DNA on the blood sample comes back from the lab. If so, we have much more to go on than we did before. We have a general description now. If it is the same guy, Mike, you have the honor of being the first ever to escape from the Cutter. And if it was the Cutter, Guidry’s probably right, he was after you, Jeff.”

“Just because of my hair color?”

“In part. One type of serial killer is very true to victim type. For example, Ted Bundy went after petite young women with brown hair parted in the middle. Tom Luther went after women who resembled his mother. Randy Kraft went after clean-cut young men, mostly Marines. Although this guy does rape and torture his victims, it’s not about sex. It’s about control and dominance. Of the victims we’ve been able to identify, all had some feature which would make them seem very masculine and a challenge to the killer. For example, Jason’s friend had been a state champion wrestler before he got into drugs. One of the victims was a police officer who had a night beat. Your friend from San Francisco was studying martial arts. Those things probably make the killer feel good about himself, more dominant, more in control.”

“That’s sick. I can’t believe someone would do shit like that, just to feel better about themselves. I wish I woulda got my hands on that sick fuck.”

“Mike, in a fair fight you would be able to wipe up the ground with the guy. Jeff definitely would. And that’s why one of you or both are targets. You also saw he doesn’t fight fair. You couldn’t fight back.”

“So someone would do all that, just for power?” I shook my head in amazement.

“It’s not only power, Jeff. He enjoys killing. For him to overpower and kill someone is like a sexual experience to him. Psychologists have theorized that it’s a rush, like a mental orgasm. The torture and rape is more to inspire terror than for his sexual enjoyment. The terror of the victim is what he gets off on.”

“So much horrible evil.” Al shook his head.