Watch Me (25 page)

The next big event was Sam’s kidnapping. The unsub had wasted no time there. He’d snatched him from his office after everyone else had gone home for the night and brought him straight here. Then there was a period of around four hours before he set him alight. During that time the unsub would have tortured Sam.

There hadn’t been any signs of physical abuse on the film clip, but I could only see Sam’s hands and face. There might have been injuries to his body, but it was unlikely. This unsub didn’t like to get his hands dirty. John Doe and Dan Choat had been shot at close range. Quick and clean. All the mess would have been projected away from the unsub.

My money was on psychological abuse. Sticks and stones may break your bones but words can never harm you. Whoever coined that phrase hadn’t understood the power of words. Words
could
hurt you. Used over a long enough time period, and aimed with enough precision, they could kill. Every other month you heard about some poor high-school kid who’d hanged themselves because the bullying had become unbearable.
That
was the sort of power that words held.

Sam’s last few hours would have been a living hell. The unsub would have taunted and teased him, looking for Sam’s vulnerable places. And when he found those places, he would have gone to town.

Barbara Galloway claimed that Sam had lived for his family, and the unsub would have been merciless there. He would have outlined in detail what he planned to do to Barbara and the kids. He would have promised pain, suffering and mutilation, even though he had no intention of carrying out those threats. In the days after Sam’s murder, the police would be keeping tabs on the family, making it too risky. Also, killing women and children did not figure in this unsub’s profile.

But Sam wouldn’t have known that. He would have died believing that the unsub was going after his loved ones, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The unsub would also have spent time outlining exactly what he planned to do to Sam, revelling in every graphic detail. He would have explained how fire destroyed the human body a layer at time, eating away at it piece by piece.

He would have described how the heat would dry out the epidermis, the outer layer of skin, before incinerating it, causing first-degree burns. Then he would have told him that the next thing to go would be the dermis. The process was the same. The heat dried it out and the fire incinerated it, causing second-degree burns.

The dermis was where most of the nerve endings were and once this had been destroyed, Sam wouldn’t have felt any pain. Third-degree burns extended through the dermis. Fourth-degree burns extended all the way down to muscle and bone.

A hell of a way to go.

No wonder Sam had been fighting and struggling to the end. I sat down on the floor with my back against the wall and stared for a moment at his charred remains. Sam Galloway, John Doe and Dan Choat. Three victims. This unsub had officially attained serial-killer status.

I switched off the flashlight and the darkness became all-consuming. The smell, too. My imagination projected flames onto the blackness, dancing oranges, yellows and reds. I could feel the fire burning me up from the outside in. I could hear the flies buzzing around the corpses in the workshop.

Most of all, I could hear Sam Galloway’s haunted screams.

45

The police arrived fifteen minutes later. Heavy feet hammered on the dirty concrete floor and echoed off the walls, making it sound like an invading army. Flashlight beams fired in all directions, like searchlights looking for enemy aircraft. Someone whispered a breathy ‘Jesus Christ’ when they caught sight of the bodies.

Shepherd came into the storeroom first, closely followed by Barker, Romero and Taylor. Almost twenty-four hours had passed since I arrived in Eagle Creek and the pecking order remained exactly the same. All four men froze when they caught sight of Sam Galloway’s remains. They were wearing all-in-one white crime-scene suits. Latex gloves on their hands, and rubber bands around their bootees to make it easy for forensics to tell the difference between their footprints and anyone else who might have been in here.

For the longest time nobody moved. They just stood and stared, mesmerised. Barker whispered another breathy ‘Jesus Christ’. He had a hand over his mouth and was shaking his head from side to side in disbelief.

I stood up and switched on my flashlight, making everyone jump. Shepherd looked like he was about to have a heart attack, and Barker looked like he was about to lose his breakfast.

‘Jesus, Winter.’ Shepherd stared at me from behind his spectacles, then took a deep breath and pulled himself together. ‘You shouldn’t be here.’

‘And where should I be?’

‘You know what I mean. This is a crime scene, goddamn it. There are protocols that need to be followed. Protocols that have been put in place for a good reason. You can’t just go wandering around a crime scene. That’s how evidence gets destroyed.’

‘I’ll make sure your guys have my fingerprints and an impression of my boot tread so you can eliminate me from the investigation. See, no damage done.’

‘Not the point. You should have waited.’

‘Follow me. There’s something you need to see.’

We headed next door to the workshop. Shepherd looked pissed and I didn’t blame him. Everything he said was true. I should have waited. The thing was that I’d always had a problem with that concept. I hunkered down beside Dan Choat’s corpse and pointed to the note in his pocket.

‘Take a look at that.’

Shepherd hunkered down beside me and used a pair of tweezers to remove the note. He unfolded it as carefully as I had, then read what was written on it. Barker, Romero and Taylor were all crowding around him to get a better look. Taylor glanced over, a dozen questions in his eyes, but he kept his mouth shut. Judging by the widened eyes and the sharp intakes of breath, the other three had all leapt to the same conclusion. No great surprise there. It was a compelling narrative.

‘Did you touch this?’

‘I was careful to hold it by the edges.’

Shepherd glared at me through his heavy-framed glasses. His mouth was a tight thin line and all the muscles in his face were tense. He looked like he wanted to punch me out. ‘Christ, Winter, what other damage have you done?’

‘That’s it. Just the letter.’

Barker said, ‘I don’t believe this. There’s no way Choat killed Galloway. No way in hell.’

‘Why? Because he was quiet, polite, friendly? What you seem to be forgetting here is that some serial killers are experts at hiding out in plain view. Also, Choat fits the profile. A white male, college-educated.’

‘You knew all along that the unsub was a cop, didn’t you?’ There were accusations in Barker’s voice, a ton of questions.

‘Yes, I did.’

‘Shit,’ hissed Shepherd. ‘Why the hell didn’t you say something?’ He shook his head, stroked his moustache. ‘This is so screwed up. A complete and utter mess.’

‘I’m going to hang around until tomorrow in case you have any questions. Then I’ll be moving on to my next case.’

I held out my hand and waited for Shepherd to shake it. He just stared at it.

‘Look on the bright side. Not only have you got a crime scene, you’ve got yourself a dead bad guy as well. If nothing else this is going to save the taxpayer a fortune. No lengthy trial, no jail time. The only losers are the lawyers.’

Shepherd was still staring at my hand and making no move to shake it. ‘Don’t leave town,’ he said finally.

I lowered my hand and walked out the workshop, and had almost made it outside before Taylor caught up.

‘You’re going to hang out here,’ I whispered. ‘Watch everyone. Anyone you see acting suspiciously, I want to know straightaway. Anyone taking an unhealthy interest in what’s going on here, I want to know. The unsub’s got an idea of how he wants this to play out, and he’s going to be pushing to turn that idea into a self-fulfilling prophecy. He’s going to screw up. It might be a big mistake, it might be a small one, but he is going to screw up, and we’re going to be all over him when he does.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m going back to Choat’s place with Hannah to see if we missed anything.’

46

We detoured via Horton Street to drop off Elroy Masters and arrived in Kennon Street a little after noon. This was a typical suburban street in a moderately prosperous area, an area where most residents were on an upward trajectory rather than a downward one. Detached one- and two-storey clapboard houses sat in their own compact parcels of land. All had porches where you could sit and watch the world go by.

The front yards gave a good indication of who owned the houses. Green grass and tidy colourful flower beds indicated a retiree, someone with both the time and the inclination to fight off the effects of a long hot summer in northern Louisiana. A parched, recently mown lawn indicated someone who worked during the week and struggled to find time at the weekend to keep up with their chores. Toys strewn across the yard obviously indicated kids.

We parked outside Choat’s house. The sun was beating down through the windshield and the temperature was pushing ninety degrees. I let the air-conditioner run, enjoying the cool air for as long as possible.

The pretty little picket fence surrounding Choat’s house had been newly whitewashed, the grass had recently been mown and was a healthy green, the flowers were blooming. The garage was in good condition and the driveway was free of weeds. This was an old person’s yard. It was not the yard of a twenty-something single guy who had a full-time job.

A banana landed in my lap, startling me from my thoughts. I looked up and saw Hannah grinning.

‘You haven’t eaten since breakfast.’

‘What is it with you and all these bananas? Have you got shares in a fruit importers or something?’

‘They’re good for you, and they’re packed with potassium.’

‘Whatever.’ I went to put the banana down.

‘Eat,’ Hannah ordered. ‘We’re not going inside until you do.’

I peeled the banana and started to eat it.

Hannah waited until I’d finished then said, ‘Let’s go.’

I killed the engine and we got out. The sun was burning through my T-shirt. It was hot and sticky, and it was only going to get hotter and more humid. We started across the sidewalk to Choat’s front gate.

‘So, how long have you and Taylor been together?’

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Why so defensive?’ She shot me a hard stare and I added, ‘I’m just curious, that’s all. I like you, and I like Taylor, and I think you’re good together. Also, I’m a sucker for a good love story.’

Her expression softened and she looked at me for a second longer. ‘We’ve been together since his last year in high school.’

‘Cradle snatcher.’

‘Hey, I wasn’t the one doing the snatching. Taylor came after me.’

‘Slowly and carefully and no doubt taking his own sweet time.’

Hannah laughed. ‘Okay, once I realised he was interested I had to steer him in the right direction, but that was kind of fun. The guys I’d been with before were all typically Southern, and they didn’t last long. Taylor was different. Despite his size, he’s the gentlest gentleman I’ve ever met. And he is a gentleman, Winter. The last of a dying breed.’

We reached the top of the narrow path that led through Dan Choat’s neat garden and climbed the stairs to the porch. Hannah shielded me from any curious eyes while I went to work with my lock picks. Twenty seconds later the last pin gave way and I pushed the door open just enough for us to squeeze inside. Hannah pulled the door shut behind us. Slashes of sunlight cut through the window, making sharp angles on the wooden floor.

‘How did you meet?’

‘We bumped into each other in town one day. He said he liked my hair. I had a go at him for being a sarcastic, chauvinistic brain-dead jock. He almost died on the spot. That’s when I realised he was being serious, and that’s the point that
I
wanted to die on the spot. I offered to buy him a coffee by way of an apology.’

‘And he had a Pepsi.’

Hannah laughed ‘Yes, he had a Pepsi. We got talking and before we knew it four hours had disappeared. Turned out he wasn’t a brain-dead jock, after all.’

‘No he’s not.’

‘We spent the whole of that summer together. Saw each other every day. I was working at the guesthouse but my mom was still alive, so I had plenty of free time. I’d just got back from spending a year travelling and I was killing time before going to college.’

‘The same college as Taylor?’

Hannah nodded. ‘I managed to swap colleges so we could be together.’

‘And then your mom got sick.’

Another nod, this one accompanied by a sigh. For a moment she looked much older. This was an aging process that resulted from hard experience. Sometimes when I looked in the mirror I’d catch the same look in my own eyes.

‘Taylor went to college and I stayed behind to care for Mom. He said he’d be faithful, and I thought
yeah, right
. He promised, but that just wasn’t going to happen, was it? I mean, he was at college. There would be plenty of partying and plenty of temptation, particularly for one of their star football players. He even got down on one knee and did the whole proposal thing, and I just told him he was being ridiculous.’

‘But he was faithful, wasn’t he?’

Hannah nodded, then smiled, then laughed. It was a warm sound, the sound of a woman who loved her man and would do anything for him, someone who’d lay down their life if it ever came to that. This wasn’t the romanticised love you saw in the movies, or the pragmatic love that had existed between Sam and Barbara Galloway, this was the real thing. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.

‘Yes he was. He’s a good man, Winter. Too good for me.’

‘And you’re selling yourself short. He needs someone like you as much as you need someone like him.’

‘What about you? Who do you need?’

I laughed. ‘That is so the wrong question.’