D E A D

C A L M

(A Kelsey Hawk Mystery—Book 8)

K a t e   B o l d

Kate Bold

Bestselling author Kate Bold is author of the ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eight books (and counting); the HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eleven books (and counting); the KAYLIE BROOKS PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting); the DYLAN FIRST FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting);  the LAUREN LAMB FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the KELSEY HAWK SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising nine books (and counting); the NORA PRICE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the NINA VEIL FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising ten books (and counting); OF the BARREN PINES PSYCHOLIGICAL SUSPENSE series, comprising seven books (and counting); of the ADDISON SHINE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising ten books (and counting); and of the MAGGIE FLIGHT SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting).

THE KILLING GAME (an Alexa Chase Suspense Thriller—Book #1), LET ME GO (an Ashley Hope Suspense Thriller—Book #1), and NOT ME (a Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book #1) are available as free downloads on Amazon!

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Kate loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.kateboldauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

Copyright © 2024 by Kate Bold. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Aydin Hassan, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

Mark Ellis walked through the secluded grounds of Theodore Roosevelt’s Elkhorn Ranch. He loved coming to Theodore Roosevelt National Park, but the ranch area was his favorite part. It was more secluded than the northern and southern regions, but it was not only the seclusion. Nor solely stepping back in time he loved; it was stepping into the shoes of Roosevelt himself.

Mark breathed in the fresh air. He pushed his shoulders back and surveyed the land, wondering what Roosevelt would have thought. He knew a little about the man, how he had come here after losing his wife and mother. Mark was thankful he was not caught in the same situation. He had lost two of his grandparents a few years ago, and while he had grieved, their deaths did not carry the weight that a mother or life partner would bring.

The air was tinted with the aroma of dry grasses and the playful dance of wildflowers. He had passed by the Little Missouri River some time ago, but he still could hear the gentle rushing of it in the distance mingled in with the deep mooing of cattle—they provided the bass to the staccato tinkling of the water and the wind through the tall grass.

Mark took out his tripod and planted it on flat ground, extending the legs until the top was at chest height. Then, he screwed his camera into the top of it, double-checking that it was secured before looking through to check his settings. He took a couple of long-distance test shots to see how the light was sitting.

He made some slight adjustments and took a couple more. Mark turned the camera on the trip base, taking some more photos and adjusting the light levels. He took another photo and checked it. Far in the distance, atop the small ridge, was a figure. Mark stood up from the camera and looked into the distance to see the same figure. He raised an arm and waved but did not receive one in return. He could not tell if the person was facing him or facing away.

Mark waved again, but the figure in the distance remained statue-like.

It created an impatience in the photographer. He felt some prickling inside at seeing someone else in the same area. He had no claim to the land, but he enjoyed the feeling of being completely alone, of looking in any direction and seeing only wilderness. There were not many places where you could do that and know no one was within sight. Mark smiled to himself as he thought about shooing the figure in the distance.

I can work with a little intrusion.

Mark re-focused: himself, not the camera. The test shots had been taken, and it was time to get what he had come for. He shifted around the camera, the soft, dry grass crunching gently underfoot. He could take a hundred cattle milling around him, but one person had thrown him off.

He pointed the camera at the remains of the ranch first. He looked through the viewfinder and zoomed in. He had recently purchased a new lens that allowed him to zoom closer than before. He would have walked closer and taken close-up shots, but anyone could do that. His speciality was planting the camera in one spot and taking all his shots for the day from there, zooming in on the details that could not be seen by the naked eye.

The first of those details were the nature-etched stone foundations where the log buildings of the ranch had once sat. Mark zoomed in on the cracks and ravines in the stones, mimicking the deep ravines that ran through the National Park. He adjusted the focus and took a couple of snaps, moving onto other stones, capturing the unique patterns, each stone a landscape in itself. He didn't take a picture of the stones as one cohesive unit. He thrived on zooming in on the smallest details and not the overall picture.

The secret of a good life. We must stop searching for the larger meaning and focus on what is important in life: the small things we encounter daily.

Mark spun around when he heard a rustling noise. There were a few cottonwood trees, thick, small bushes, and tall waving grass. The park was open and expansive as far as the buttes, with only enough room for a small animal to hide. He waited patiently for the critter to become known, but it remained hidden.

Mark went back to his camera, taking a few more pictures of the time-scarred stones before turning his camera to face the buttes in the distance. The buttes did not mimic the landscape of the park but represented time itself. Layer upon layer had been built up, batting against the furious forces of erosion, becoming shaped and shaping the region.

He looked into the viewfinder again, zooming in. Mark quickly stopped and jerked the camera to the side. He was sure he had seen a figure, a blur of black, but he could not pinpoint it with the camera zoomed in so much. He stood back up and surveyed the distance, looking for a small strip of black before the pale, sandy, and red layers of the buttes.

He stood for a full minute, surveying the immediate area, but he was alone.

Mark felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle, but he ignored it and went back to the camera. He took a deep breath to steady himself before he checked the levels again. The buttes were lonely monoliths on the horizon, much smaller than the expansive and flat mesas but more striking because of their sparsity and frailty.

Both the mesas and buttes shared the same layers along their sides, but the mesas were grand tables of earth, while the buttes looked like slices of mountains carved and left in place by giants. They had flat tops that were inviting, but the steep, almost vertical sides made them almost impossible to climb.

Mark brought only the layers into view. From a distance, the mesas were a thin stripe in a luscious landscape, but zoomed in; they encompassed the entire frame of the photo, dark lines running from left to right with compacted colors of earth between.

Another noise, a scrambling or scratching in the safety of the day, and he looked around again. To his left, the way the light perfectly struck the mesa caught his eye, and he quickly moved to turn the camera and capture the shot before it was lost to the rotation of the earth. As he reached out his hand, his brain reminded him that the noise had come from the right.

He could only think about taking a step back or finding a weapon to stave off the presence he could feel behind him, but his body was acting on instinct, spinning around to see the danger so it could appropriately react.

He did not make the full spin. He could see the black figure in his peripheral vision, but the blow to the side of his head turned the entire world to black. He felt the ground jump up and strike the side of his head.

It was the last thing he would ever feel.

CHAPTER ONE

Kelsey Hawk ran. She did not dare look behind at the man chasing her for fear that it would slow her down. She had not expected him to be so fleet on his feet, but he was right behind her, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She knew what it meant if she was caught, and she could not let that happen.

She heard a shout, someone calling her name, but she still did not slow. She stared straight ahead, seeing salvation. Her path was clear; if she could only cross the threshold, she was sure she could make her escape.

She had been one of the best new recruits in the FBI and had overcome challenge after challenge. She wouldn't be stopped by anyone.

Then she saw red.

The red flashing figure, eight feet in the air, signaling not to cross the road. Kelsey thought about pushing through and going for it anyway, but she was supposed to be a role model in the town. She gritted her teeth and let out a sharp breath before stopping at the pedestrian crossing, hopping from foot to foot to keep the blood flowing.

"Special Agent Hawk!" the man called as he stopped beside her.

Kelsey adjusted the tie that kept her ponytail tight and the hair out of her eyes as she ran. The man opened his mouth to talk but gasped for air instead after chasing her for the last fifty yards.

"Sid, how are you doing?" Kelsey asked.

Sid bent over and placed his hands on his thighs. Kelsey looked up at the lights. If they changed quickly enough, she could continue on her run and be free of him.

"I… thought I would never… catch you!" Sid stood up, placing his hands behind his head, and he took three deep breaths. "You must not have heard me shouting after you."

"I get in the zone sometimes," Kelsey admitted. "You look like you might need help with something."

"Ah, perceptive as ever," Sid said. "I’ll walk with you for a little. You can take a walk break, can't you? I don't need long?"

Kelsey looked at the lights as they changed. "Sure. Let’s walk, Sid."

"Thank you. Do you know how many times I have called someone to have them talk to my neighbor? He claims to have built the fence on his side of the line, and I don't know why he needs a fence in the first place. We’re supposed to be neighbors, not strangers. I don't know anymore. This town is not like it was when I was a child."

"The property line?" Kelsey asked.

"I’ve called local council, the state government, I’ve even tried federal agencies. Not the FBI, but you know what I mean."

"Sheriff Anderson assured you he was dealing with it," Kelsey said.

"Yes, but I’ve not heard anything from him in weeks," Sid maintained.

"He also had someone come out and mark the property lines showing that the fence is within your neighbor’s property, Sid."

"Yes!" Sid stated. "Yes, he did that, but I’m not talking about the official lines. I’m talking about the real property lines before some official drew up imaginary lines everywhere. Talk to Jim. He’s laughing at me over this; I can feel it. I’ve tried everything, Special Agent Hawk. All I have left is the FBI. I know you are the best, so please, will you help me?"

Kelsey sighed. She didn't mean to, but she could not help it. "I don't know what you expect me to do," Kelsey told him.

"Open an investigation or a case or whatever it's called. You make things happen. I know that you do. If anyone can solve this case, it's you."

Kelsey wanted to reason with him, to tell him that there was no case to investigate, but logic was thrown out of the window when it came to Sid. He had a long list of complaints, going back to long before Kelsey arrived in Winchburgh. She knew that the best way to deal with North Dakotans like Sid was to kill them with kindness and hope they didn't chase you down on the street.

"I'll talk to Sheriff Anderson again and see if I can call in any favors from Quantico," Kelsey told him.

"I knew I could count on you, Special Agent Hawk."

"Please, you can call me Kelsey, Sid."

"I will, but you are on a case now. As soon as you solve this one, I'll go back to calling you Kelsey. Fair?"

"I would expect nothing less," Kelsey replied.

She gave it a second to make sure he was done, offered him a wry smile, and continued running.

Kelsey interacted with a few more townsfolk on her way through Winchburgh, but none of them stopped her. They offered him a wave or greeting, and she returned them in kind.

The small town in North Dakota had not felt like home for a long time, but it had started to feel more like it over the past six months. She had been reassigned from Valleyview in California after getting on the wrong side of her former boss for being too reckless while getting results. He hoped to bore her to death with life in a small town covered by snow for half of the year, but she had thrived. Her record for solving serial killer cases across the state was, well, a record. No one else had come close to doing what she had done, and she had gained notoriety across North Dakota and beyond.

It was not only her results that made her loved in the town she now called home, but the fact that she had saved one of their own: Felicity, the Sheriff’s daughter, who had almost been killed by one of the serial killers she had tracked down.

And she had not truly called it home until she had found her sister, missing for two decades, abducted at nine years old. Kesley had thought Erica was dead for the longest time, but she had been found alive and completely brainwashed. Erica lived in Wichburgh with Kelsey, and that made the town truly feel like home.

Kelsey pressed her fob to the side of the door, and the lock clicked. She went up the two flights of stairs and stuck her key in the lock, turning it. She hesitated before opening the door. The trauma of the past still lingered, and there was a permanent worry that Kelsey would walk through the door and find her sister gone again.

"Hello?" Kelsey called as she entered.

"I’m in the kitchen," Erica called back.

Kelsey let out a sigh of relief and kicked off her shoes. She went to the bathroom first, grabbed a small towel to wipe off her sweat, and then went to the kitchen to grab some water.

"How was your run?" Erica asked.

"It was good for the most part," Kelsey replied. "I was accosted by Sid Murphy, hoping I could end a dispute with his neighbor. He's surprisingly fast for a man his age."

"Maybe you are losing a step?" Erica suggested. "There's coffee in the pot."

"You are a lifesaver," Kelsey told her sister. She finished her glass of water before going to her sister and kissing her on the head. She grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured herself some coffee. "I have to head into the office soon. What do you have planned for today?"

"I might go for a walk later," Erica said.

"If you do, you can give me a call and maybe we can grab some lunch?" Kelsey suggested.

"Yeah, sounds good."

The other thing that Kelsey was worried about, other than her sister disappearing again, was Erica relapsing. Erica had not had an episode since leaving the facility three months ago and coming to live with Kelsey, and Kelsey liked to think that was because she was with family again and surrounded by love. Erica had good and bad days, but there hadn’t been a paranoid episode for a while.

She had seen figures outside the window when she was being treated in the facility and had been sure they had come to take her again. Kelsey didn't know who they were other than being human traffickers. Kelsey did not believe that anyone would come back for Erica, but she believed that Erica perceived a threat, and Kelsey wanted to help her deal with it. There had been no mention of it since Kelsey and Erica had moved in together, but Kelsey was constantly on edge, expecting something bad to happen.

Kelsey shook her head and took a deep breath.

Everything is fine now. Bad things happened in the past, but that does not mean they will happen now.

Kelsey went to her sister again and embraced her. Sometimes, she needed to remind herself that her sister was there, and there was something special about hugging her sister that could not be replicated by anyone else.

"I love you, too," Erica whispered.

"I’m glad you are here with me," Kelsey said.

She clung to Erica as the tease slid down her cheeks.

There was no way to explain what she had gone through, both back when her parents were killed and she thought her sister had been killed too, and when she had been reunited with her sister again. Both sets of emotions were far above any emotions that could be explained in a physical or emotional sense. Kelsey could not even describe to herself what she had felt and continued to feel; she could only feel it.

The cell phone buzzing on the counter disturbed her moment with Erica. There was no one more important in the world than Erica, but she knew she might still have to take it.

She read the name on the screen.

John G.

John Gallant was the Deputy Sheriff and also her partner when investigating cases. They were not partners in an official sense, but they had investigated multiple serial killers together, and there was no one she would rather have by her side. She trusted him more than she trusted herself.

"I have to take this," Kelsey said.

"Is it John?" Erica sang. She widened her eyes and smiled, placing the backs of her hands under her chin.

Kelsey could hold up to scrutiny, and she had always been certain she would be tortured and wouldn't break, but she was defenseless when facing her sister. She broke out into a wide and embarrassing smile.

"When is he going to finally ask you out on a proper date?" Erica asked.

"It’s not like that," Kelsey claimed. "Besides, I’m too busy to be dating."

"Oh, come off it," Erica replied. "You can't continue to use me as an excuse. Maybe you need to ask him out."

"No one is asking anyone else out," Kelsey claimed. "Will you please stop acting like a teenage girl?"

"Will you please stop smiling like a teenage girl?" Erica asked.

"I am not," Kelsey claimed as she continued to smile like a teenage girl.

"You better answer that before he hangs up and calls some other cute woman to ask her out on a date," Erica noted.

"You are insufferable at times." Kelsey shook her head as she headed to the next room to take the call.

"That’s because I am always right!" Erica shouted after her.

"John?" Kelsey answered once she had some privacy.

"Where are you?" John asked.

"I’m at home," Kelsey replied.

"Okay, I am on my way over to pick you up," he said. "We are going to Theodore Roosevelt National Park."

For a moment, she thought he was taking her there on a date, but he could hear the tone in his voice. It was a tone she recognized whenever he called someone to give them bad news.

"How bad is it?" Kelsey asked.

"Bad enough that they called the murder scene ‘brutal.’"

CHAPTER TWO

"How is Erica doing?" John asked as he drove them between Winchburgh and the National Park.

"Good," Kelsey replied.

"You sound hesitant." John indicated and passed the car in front on the inner lane of the highway.

"Do you remember when I was working the last case and Erica was being treated? She kept seeing people outside, and she thought that someone was coming for her. I remember when I finally got to visit her, and she thought someone was out there, and when I looked out, I saw someone. I just wasn’t sure if it was someone coming for her or just someone who happened to be out of there."

Kelsey stared at a hawk as it floated above the highway, waiting for a chance to dive down and peck at the roadkill once the cars had passed.

"I spent a lot of time sitting and listening to her, and I knew she had been through so much that she was messed up by it. I mean, how could she not be? Yet, I believed her. I listened to her talk about it, and it was rambling and sounded crazy, but there was some rationality in there. If she had been imagining it all, then she would see people in the room or make impossible claims, but everything she said, while impossible sounding, was all possible."

"So, do you think someone is really coming after her?" John asked.

"Ever since coming to live with me, she’s not seen anyone, and now, I think she was imagining it. Maybe she has more of a foundation now, and she's rooted because of me. I can't imagine what it was like for her in there. She was basically imprisoned and had different doctors and nurses coming in and out. She was constantly on different meds, and she didn't trust any of them. She trusts me, and she has some permanence. I like to hope that she's better because of me."

John tapped at the steering wheel as he drove. "But?"

"I’m still afraid that someone really is coming for her, and they are waiting in the shadows now that I am around. I would rather she saw things, and I could be there to point out that she was imagining it, but as soon as she moved in with me, she hasn’t seen anyone. I have this bad feeling that something bad is about to happen."

"It won’t," John stated. "And even if it does, you know that I am here with you. The whole town is behind you."

"I know." Kelsey reached over and squeezed John’s arm.

John sighed.

Kelsey knew he had something else he wanted to talk about, but it was always better to give him space to talk rather than try to tease it out of him.

"Samantha called me," John said wistfully.

Samantha was his ex-wife. They had a seven-year-old daughter together. Kelsey had met Kimberly a few times and liked the young girl. She was tenacious and feisty. The divorce of her parents had not affected her, but Kelsey knew that feelings could be buried deep down and released years later.

"What did she want?" Kelsey asked.

It was not only that she and John had connected more and more over the recent months, but she was fiercely protective of him, too. He had served in the military with a tour of Iraq and was now a Deputy Sheriff, but she still felt it was her place to look after him and protect him from being hurt.

"I don't know," John admitted. "She told me that she wanted to talk and invited me over for supper."

"Do you think that she… what do you think she wants to talk about?" Kelsey bit her bottom lip as she looked out of the window at the badlands of Theodore National Park.

"I don't know, but it must be something important," John replied.

"Sorry, it’s none of my business," Kelsey said quickly.

"No, it's fine," John assured her. He turned off into a dirt road and stopped when the officer waved him down.

John and Kelsey both showed their IDs and were waved through. They drove to the end of the dirt track and parked in the parking lot next to the information sign. When they exited the vehicle, they were met by a second officer. John and Kelsey showed their badges a second time and were then led toward one of the larger buttes.

"It’s beautiful out here," John noted. "The badlands sometimes remind me of my time overseas. It’s not exactly the same, but it has the same quietness. It’s as if the killer wants to tarnish the beauty of it. Is that something, Kelsey?"

"It could be," she admitted. "If he has brutally killed someone and left their body here to be found, then there's a reason for it. Have they excavated the body yet?" She directed the question to the officer, leading them toward the commotion.

"Not yet," the officer replied. "They’ve called in an archaeologist. They don't want to disturb the landscape and need someone to consult with first. And, they haven’t… I mean, they don't know where the rest of the body is."

"The rest of the body?" John furrowed his brows and glanced at Kelsey.

"We’ve only found the bones. It looks like he killed them and brought the bones here. We don't know where the rest of him? them? is."

"So, the bones might have been here for a while?" Kelsey asked.

"I… I don't know. Sorry, I don't really know what is going on," the officer said.

"Don't worry about it," Kelsey assured. "Lead us to the crime scene, and you will have done your job well."

"Yes, Ma’am," the officer replied.

They wound through the valley that cut through the buttes and mesas over time. John reached out his hand and ran his fingers over the earthen layers, some of it crumbling to dust at his touch and sprinkling to the ground.

Kelsey had a bitterness in the back of her throat. It was not all that long ago that she had walked through a similar landscape at night. Hunting a killer before he hunted her. It had been at night, and the badlands were much more agreeable during the day, but John was right. The beauty of it had been tainted by murder.

Kelsey looked up toward the flat ridge above and behind. Where the ranch had been was relatively open, but the killer had chosen his spot to leave the body purposefully. It offered some seclusion to do what he needed to do. She imagined him carrying the bones of his victim along the same path to dump them in the middle of nowhere.

"Sir!" the officer called when he rounded a bend to come face to face with a dozen other people, some in uniform and some not.

Many turned, but it was only one that approached them. A tall man with a thick-set neck and almond eyes. He pushed his shoulders back as he walked, and he had an air about him that Kelsey immediately disliked.

"Detective Hollis," the man said, not offering a hand to shake. "I didn’t want you here, we don’t need you here, but I requested it, you know why? Because if I didn’t, my superiors would’ve just brought you in anyway."

"Are you done?" John asked. "When we get to a crime scene, we like to investigate them. Were you and your men planning on standing around all day?"

Kelsey resisted the urge to smile.

"This is a national park, Deputy," Detective Hollis replied. "We can't just dig with our hands. I don't know how you do things back East, but we like to do things by the book here. I have an expert on the way, and they will advise us on how to proceed. And before you say it, I know that we are delaying getting the forensic evidence we need, but there are bigger things at play here."

"Very commendable," Kelsey said. "So, you are faced with bones and no body, and you are waiting for an expert to advise on the means of extraction, and from the way all of your men are staring at the side of the butte instead of the ground, the bones have been buried in the side of it, likely in the form of an archeological dig, because why else would they bring the bones here. Does that all sound about right?"

"Uh, yes, it does." The detective glanced at the officer before looking back at Kelsey.

"Sounds like she knows as much as you do already," John said. "And I’m guessing that in about five minutes, she’ll know a lot more."

"Let’s take a closer look," Kelsey said.

She and John walked first, followed closely behind by the detective.

"I thought your whole thing was rebelling against authority," John noted. "I was expecting you to give that guy a mouthful."

"I knew you would take care of that part," Kelsey said. "Besides, he’s spoiling for a fight because he’s worried we will swoop in here and do his job for him. That’s still no excuse for his rudeness, but the best way to deal with that is not to give him a fight."

"Does it ever get annoying to be constantly one step ahead of everyone?" John asked.

"No."

"No, not for you," John said with a smile.

They reached the side of the butte, and Kelsey had been completely correct. The bones of the victim had been buried in the side of the layered earth. Kelsey stepped closer, smelling death in the side of the towering monument of ochre earth. She was not surprised by the tableau before her, but she was unnerved. She ran her teeth over her lips as she looked at the small amount of bone poking out of the side of the butte as if a layer of dirt had been bruised away to reveal a centuries-old skeleton.

Yet, it wasn’t centuries old. Even she could tell by the condition of the bones that the kill was fresh.

Part of the skull, the left side of the face, and some of the nose poked out eight feet up from the ground. A sliver of femur, the tip of a finger, and some toes also poked out. Small pieces of bone jabbed out here and there, but they had not been uncovered; they had been placed there to be found like that.

Kelsey took a step back. She could see by the position of the head, fingers, and toes that the body was placed as if it were lying in the dirt. It would have been taken apart to be placed vertically in the dirt, but it had been placed as if the entire body was placed at once. The positioning was precise and careful. The killer had taken his time to get it right. The body had been placed out of the way so he could do his work without being disturbed, but it had been paced to be found. The bones of the victim had been presented in such a way for a reason.

Kelsey stepped forward again and took a closer look at the pieces of bone protruding through the brown and red layers.

"The rest of the body is here!" she called. "Spread out. It’s here, and we have to find it."

CHAPTER THREE

"What are you talking about?" Detective Hollis demanded. "No one move."

"Take a look," Kelsey said. She pointed to the bones.

Detective Hollis stepped closer, trying to work out what Kelsey had spotted. The other officers and the forensic team surrounding the crime scene did the same. A dozen or so people leaned forward and breathed in sync with each other, each trying to work it out first.

No one spoke. They were all waiting for Detective Hollis to say something, but he couldn’t. He didn't know what Kelsey had discovered, and he didn’t want to admit that she had seen something he hadn’t.

Kelsey wanted to get on with the investigation, or she might have let him stare at the bones a little longer.

"He removed the bones from the body, and he would have scrubbed them. Yet, there's still some blood on them. If he had done this at a second location, he would have done a better job. He had some time here, but he had to act quickly to get the bones prepared."

"That’s your theory?" Detective Hollis asked. "Whoever did this murdered someone and stripped the flesh from their bones. Do you really think they were concerned with washing off all the blood?"

"Yes, I do," Kelsey said. "The bones are placed carefully. I know killers, and I know he's careful and purposeful. Look at the way he placed the bones in the side of the butte. He would have dug it out, then softened the earth again with water to place it back around the bones. Look at what he gave us and tell me you don't believe he would have scrubbed the bones before bringing them here."

"I… I don't know what he would have done," Detective Hollis said. "How am I supposed to know what this maniac was thinking?"

"You are not," John said, stepping in. "That’s why Special Agent Hawk is here. So, how about you humor her and have your men search the area instead of waiting around for a second expert to show up?"

Detective Hollis placed his hands on his hips and looked around. He had already lost control of the situation, and his anger was bubbling below the surface.

"I want this area searched," Detective Hollis ordered. "You are to spread out and leave no stone unturned. Start close and then fan out. If you find anything, you are to report it to me immediately. Do you all understand?"

There were some nods and murmured agreements, but they were stopped by Kelsey before they could start the search.

"Where is the nearest water source?" Kelsey asked.

Everyone looked at each other before one of the officers pointed and answered. "The Little Missouri River is that way."

"Good," Kelsey said. "He needed water to wash the body after preparing it. My guess is that he would have dug a hole first, pretty deep, to hide the scent from animals when it was buried. He would have put the body in the hole, creating a temporary hiding place while he went to get water, and then he would have prepared the body in the hole so any blood and other human remains could be covered up. Get a map and draw a wide triangle with one point here and two other points on the river. Fan out and search the areas where there would be little to no foot traffic. The bones are what he wanted us to find, so you will be looking for disturbed earth, but he will have smoothed it over. If you find something, report it to Detective Hollis immediately."

Kelsey looked toward the detective and saw the redness in his cheeks and neck. She knew she should not be riling him up more than he already was, but she was unable to help herself.

The officers and other law officials got to work, spreading out to search for a burial plot. A couple of officers remained behind to guard the bones, and Detective Hollis walked off, taking his phone out of his pocket as if he had just received a call.

"Well, you certainly know how to make an impression," John said when they were alone again.

"Guys like him are the worst," Kelsey replied. "He wants to be in control of everything at the expense of getting the job done. I have no doubt that he's good at what he does, or he wouldn't have made detective, but he’s slowing us down."

"You should tell him that," Johns said. "Tell him he must be a good detective. That will really annoy him."

"I’ll save that for another time," Kelsey replied.

"So?" John asked. "Initial thoughts on this. This really is unlike anything we have seen before."

"It is," Kelsey agreed, "but he’s still the same as the others. He has motivation, and he uses the skills to express that motivation. What I do know so far is that he's careful and precise. If I am right and there's a body, or the rest of a body, buried nearby, then he has done a very good job at preparing the body out in the open. The bones are for us, for all of us. He wants the world to see what he has done. He wanted the bones to be found; he just didn't care when. And he wants them to look old, like an archeological dig. He could have left the bones with more blood on them, but he washed them almost clean. He needed them to look like bones that had been buried and then uncovered. It could be something to do with the past. He wants to revisit the past or bring it into the present. Maybe we will find more when we remove the bones and find the rest of the body."

"Looks like a male," John said. "Going by the height, and… I don't really know what else."

"Excuse me, Special Agent Hawk?"

Kelsey turned to see the officer who had led them to the crime scene.

"We found this at the site of the ranch." The officer held a digital camera. "We don't know if it's connected to the murder, but we presume that it is, as it was left unattended there. I am sure Detective Hollis would want you to take a look at it."

Kelsey smiled. "Thank you, Officer." She put on some gloves before she took the camera from the officer.

John leaned in, touching his shoulder to hers as they both looked at the small screen. She brought up the last picture taken, what looked like a zoomed-in picture of the buttes. Then, there were pictures of stones. Again, zoomed in. Kelsey didn't know what stones. Then, a photo caught both of their attention. A photograph of the flatter landscape with a black-clad figure in the distance. Kelsey zoomed in to get a better look at the figure, but it didn't show any additional detail.

"Do you think that is him?" John asked.

"We have nothing to tell us who that is, but looking at the picture makes my back and neck itch. I have nothing to base it on, but I do think that the victim took a picture of his killer before his death."

"Do you know who found the bones?" Kelsey called to the officer who had brought them the camera.

"Rex," he called back.

"Where is he now?" Kelsey continued.

"Back in town. Uh, if you want to talk with him, you might have trouble with that."

"Why?" Kelsey asked.

"Rex is a dog," the officer replied. "Linda Jenkins was out with her dog this morning, and she let Rex off-leash. When he returned, he had a bone in his mouth. Linda bent down to take a closer look, and she almost passed out. Those were her words. She called the police, not wanting to go any further, and she met us at the ranch site. It took some coaxing, but Rex finally let go of the bone, and we bagged it. When we searched the area, we found"—the officer turned and gestured toward the skeleton—"this."

Kelsey frowned. Something tugged at the back of her mind. She walked back toward the skeleton embedded in the earth and studied it again.

"Well, that just doesn't make sense," she muttered.

"What is it?" John asked.

"It’s all wrong," Kelsey replied. "There can't be—"

"We found it!" the officer called as he came to a halt by Kelsey. He took a quick breath. "He did a pretty good job of hiding it, but it’s there if you look for it. Detective Hollis has already called in an excavation team.

Detective Hollis strode round the corner shortly after the officer, opting to walk instead of run. "Well, you won't believe what we have found," he stated, a smug grin on his face.

"Another set of bones," Kelsey answered.

The detective’s entire face seemed to melt. His brows formed a sharp ‘v’ above his eyes, and he opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"The bone found by Rex is not from this skeleton." Kelsey gestured to the bones in the butte. "It can't be. There's no disturbed earth or cavity where the bone should be. There are two sets of bones out here, and the bone found by the dog is from the set of bones you have just found. I’ll update my previous theory to state that you will likely find the remains of two bodies in that hole: the photographer and someone else. It makes sense that he would have rested the same hole if the first set of bones were not discovered before he made his second kill. He won't come back to this spot now that we have found his gifts, but I do think he will kill again, so we better collect everything he has left us and see where it leads."

John stepped forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Kelsey again. "Anything you would like to add, Detective?"

"We have teams on the way to excavate the three potential crime sites," Detective Hollis replied. "My team is continuing to search the area."

"Thank you, Detective," Kelsey said. "Good work."

The detective didn't know whether to act pleased or annoyed, and he turned away so he wouldn't have to make that decision.

"We might be a while," John said. "Do you want to go and get some coffee and come back?"

"I do," Kelsey replied, "but I'm staying here for now. I want to look at the other set of bones before they take it out of the… wall. It's not really a wall, is it? The side of the butte? I won't ever get used to saying that. I want to check out the bones before they excavate them."

"I’ll go on a coffee run," John said.

***

Why do you do it? What are you telling us with this? You’ve gone to a lot of work to present the two bodies to us. Did you mean for them to be found together, or was it luck that the first body was not found until now?

Kelsey sipped at the coffee John had brought back, and it was stone cold. Still, the flavor and caffeine hit were welcome. She watched the team carefully dig into the earth to remove the bones like an excavation team might do at a dig for fossils.

They are like fossils, aren’t they? Is that what you wanted? Is this something to do with time?

"Special Agent Hawk? Deputy Gallant?" An officer called. "They’ve almost finished excavating the burial site."

"Is there any identification?" John asked.

"There is," the officer confirmed. "The rest of the… bodies were in there. Clothes, too, and personal belongings. It’s hard to tell, but it doesn't look like anything was taken. The jewelry is still there: a ring and a necklace."

"Do you have names?" John asked.

"Sarah Jennings and Mark Ellis," the officer replied. "Someone recognized Mark’s name. They don't know much about him, but he’s local to the area. Sarah Jennings had an out-of-state driving license. Maybe they were killed at the same time?"

"It’s possible, but I don't believe that is the case," Kelsey said. "When they excavated, did they find everything jumbled together, or were the remains separate?"

"No, it looks like they were separate," the officer said. "Sarah Jennings’ remains were buried deeper, and then Mark Ellis’ remains above them."

"I think he killed her and then came back to the same spot to kill him," Kelsey said. "It could be that he came back to check on his work and took an opportunity, or he planned to be back here a second time to kill someone."

"Do you want to go and take a look at the remains?" John asked.

"No, we can leave that to the professionals for now. They can sort it out first, and then we will take a look at everything together once the postmortems are done. For now, I want to go back to town and set up a center of operations. I’m sure Detective Hollis will have space for us, no matter how much he dislikes us being here."

"I’ll talk to him now and make sure there are no misunderstandings," John said.

"Good," Kelsey replied. "On the surface, there doesn’t look to be a connection between the two victims. He removed everything down to the bones. This is not about the victims but about the killer. We need to focus on him; find out who he is before he kills again." Kelsey stared at John for a second before he continued. "He will kill again, John. He took his time with his first two victims, so there's every chance he will take his time again with the third, both in the choosing and the killing. We have some time, but we have to use that time wisely, and we can't have Detective Hollis slowing us down. We need to take what he's telling us and use it to find him before we dig more bones in the badlands. More death is coming, but we can stop it."

CHAPTER FOUR

"What do you have on Sarah Jennings?" Kelsey asked.

"She lived in Philadelphia but worked all over the country," John replied. "She was a business consultant, helping businesses boost their social media presence, and she wasn’t the best at what she did, but she didn't hit the bottom line of businesses as much as some larger companies. She worked alone, having quit her marketing job to start her own business, and she was the sole employee of said business. She was thirty-two, with no husband or children, but there might have been a boyfriend back in Philadelphia. Her parents live there still and have been notified."

John reached behind him to grab the file from the printer, unable to swivel his chair fully in the small office Detective Hollis had given them. It was too small for the two of them to be in there together, and they shared the desk that had been pushed from the wall into the center of the room. Kelsey was sure it was formerly a storage cupboard converted into an office and that Detective Hollis had assigned it purposely.

Still, it gave them an advantage. When they cracked this case, it would look even more of an achievement to have done it from the cramped confines of this broom cupboard.

"I thought there might be a connection with Mark being a photographer, but there's no evidence that they ever interacted both before or after she arrived in town. She was only thirty-two years old."

John looked up at the photo of her that had been pinned to the corkboard. They had not seen the autopsy photos yet, but they knew they would be in stark contrast to what was on the board, both with Mark and Sarah’s pictures. They had not gone to see the remains dug from the hole, not wanting to see the churned dirt and flesh.

"Anything on your side?" John asked.

"Mark Ellis," Kelsey relayed. "Twenty-seven years old. He has lived in the area his entire life. Had a brother who moved to Canada, and his parents retired early to Florida. No partner or children. He lived alone. Mark worked as an accountant but fancied himself as an amateur photographer, often submitting his photos to local magazines and galleries. He liked to shoot from the same spot, capturing close-up details of the landscapes we take for granted. That last part came directly from his website."

"Maybe Sarah was consulting with him to boost traffic to his site?" John suggested.

"There’s nothing to suggest that happened," Kelsey said. "The website looks like he put it together himself, and there are no links to social media. There was very little traffic to the website, and it hadn’t been updated for years. Sarah Jennings must have come cheap, but I still don't think he hires her to consult."

"So, where does that leave us?" John asked. "The only connection we have is the badlands? We know Mark was there to take photos, but what about Sarah? She's visiting town, so heads down to Roosevelt's Ranch for a walk. Maybe the killer spots her down there?"

"Maybe," Kelsey agreed. "Or maybe not. It could be the staging area for the killer. The badlands might not connect the victims in any way, but it might give us something about who the killer is."

"Which is?" John asked.

"I don't know yet," Kelsey admitted.

She stretched up her arms, elongating her body. A stiffness ran through her.

"How did you sleep last night?" Kelsey asked.

"I toured Iraq," John reminded. "Compared to that, what I slept on was luxury."

"Yeah, but you must have adapted back to being comfortable on a proper mattress and in your own bed," Kelsey noted.

"Don't get me wrong, I love sleeping in my own bed, but my body adapts to any sleeping situation." John looked around the room. "I bet I could easily nap in here."

Kelsey smiled.

"And I don't know what you are complaining about," John said. "Didn't you have the Roosevelt Suite? The best room in the motel, which makes it the best room in town."

"There’s a portrait of Roosevelt hanging over the bed. I think that’s the only difference between my room and yours. I don't know if that helps. I have Roosevelt, a man who did so much in his lifetime, looking over me as I sleep. That’s a lot to live up to."

"Yeah, but did he ever catch a serial killer?" John asked. "You have him easily beat in that regard."

"I think I have all former, current, and possibly future presidents beat in that regard," Kelsey said.

"Okay, so if there's no connection with the victims, what do we look at?" John asked.

"We go over the crime scene photos again and try to work out what he's telling us. This is not a subconscious thing. He wants to present these bodies to us, to show us how clever he is. Maybe to show someone in his life how clever he is. Look for anything, the smallest detail."

John nodded and started to go through what they had so far. Kelsey did the same. Two copies of everything had been printed out. She went back to the photo that Mark Ellis had taken of the figure dressed in black. If it were not the killer, then it was an eyewitness to some of Mark's last moments in life. They had put out a call for any people who were in the badlands on the morning that Mark was taking photos. They had not identified the person in the photo, which made Kelsey sure the killer had been captured, in photo form only, but soon physically, if she had anything to do about it.

You must have gone through the photos on the camera. Maybe he took another of you that you deleted? You are too careful not to check if you had been captured in one of his photos. So, you left this one for us. You wanted us to see it. You wanted to tease us with it.

Kelsey went through the other photos that were timestamped from the same morning. She looked at the numbers. The tech team had been pretty sure that no photos had been deleted once taken. Mark had taken some shots of the landscape, the stones of the old ranch, and a close-up of one of the buttes. Kelsey stopped and went back to one of the photos. It was not zoomed in as much as the others, but the layers of earth were still visible. She took out all of the photos Mark had taken of the same butte and laid them side by side.

"They’re not the same," Kelsey said.

John leaned over the desk to take a closer look.

"This one is different. It looks the same, just like much of the badlands looks the same, but the layers are spaced differently. It’s like—"

Kelsey stopped and ruffled through the crime scene photos. She grabbed the photos of the bones of the first victim and laid them beside the photo she had pulled from Mark’s camera.

"He’s playing with us," Kelsey stated. "This is the last photo on the camera, but it was not taken by Mark; it was taken by the killer. Look."

John stood up and bent over the photos, trying to see what Kelsey saw.

"Look at the layers here." Kelsey pointed to the seven photos Mark had taken. "The layers are slightly different to the last photo taken, but if you look at these"—She pointed to the crime scene photos—"the layers match up. You just have to think how it would look zoomed out. And there"—She pointed again—"that white dot is part of a bone. My goodness. He chose his second victim, killed him, and then took his camera to record the first crime scene."

John shook his head. "What does that mean?"

"Maybe he likes games? He wants to build a narrative? He thought it would be funny or clever to link the two deaths in some way. He wanted to lead us to the first kill that had not been discover yet? I don't know, but it means something to him. He's putting on a show for us."

"The autopsies are finished," an officer said from the door. "The coroner has sent over the report, but you can go down there and talk with him if you like."

"Thank you," Kelsey said. She turned back to John. "Let’s stretch our legs and go down there and talk with him. He can answer any questions if we have them."

***

"Thank you for seeing us," John said.

"I wish I could say it was my pleasure, but there really is no pleasure to be had in this," the coroner said.

Arthur Silas was in his sixties, and it looked as if he had modeled his office after the attire he wore. Arthur had donned tan pants and a brown shirt with a darker brown vest atop. His office walls were covered with thin strips of wood that looked like they had been there since the seventies. There was no greenery, and there was little color except for pale shades of brown and tan.

"What can you tell us about the deaths?" Kelsey asked. "Do we know yet when they were killed?"

"I would estimate that Mark Ellis was killed around forty-eight hours ago, and Sarah Jennings was killed five to seven days ago."

"How about the cause of death?" Kelsey asked.

"Both victims were struck on the back of the head," Arthur told them. "The blow would likely have knocked them out, but it wouldn't have killed them. It took some time to… put everything back together, and it was hard to pinpoint the exact cause of death with Mark Ellis, but based on what we found with Sarah Jennings’ body, we are confident that the cause of death was exsanguination. They both bled to death after having their throats cut with a sharp, non-serrated blade."

Kelsey sighed and nodded. "Okay. So, we know he has some strength. We’re looking for a larger man, someone who could have carried the bodies. I would guess that the victims were struck and then carried to the burial site to be processed. He would need strength to move a body and dig a hole. He moved them to the hole and killed them there. How about the removal of the flesh and organs?"

"It wasn’t surgical, but it wasn’t sloppy either," Arthur replied. "Again, it was hard to put together everything with the bodies being buried as they were, but he would have taken his time with the bodies, and he would need equipment. Good knives to carve the bodies. He might have hunted before and knows how to skin a deer."

"Someone with hunting and skinning skills," John said. "Good, that helps to narrow things down a little. What about the way he displayed the bones? Was there anything there that can help us?"

"I don't know," the coroner replied. "I don't know what it all means, but it was carefully done. He excavated the site first and paced the bones so only a little of them would be showing. And he didn't just stuff the other bones in there to be hidden. He took his time so that all of the bones would be in the correct place. He would have made mud with the earth that was removed, and then he pieced the scene back together, packing the mud in so it would dry atop the buried bones. He could have made the mud first and stuck the bones in, but he wanted them placed a very specific way."

"I’ll be back. I have to take this," John said as he pointed at his ringing phone.

Kelsey nodded. "So, he buried all of the bones but left pieces of some visible. Was there anything off? Even slightly? Maybe he positions the bodies to resemble something?"

"It’s funny you should mention that," the coroner replied. "The two bodies were placed perfectly. The killer is familiar with anatomy. Now, I believe that the bodies were found after a dog found a bone in the badlands, and that led to the discovery of the first body, which was the second victim. And I believe that you were the one that spotted that the bone had not come from the skeleton of Mark Ellis, and that was when a second body was found."

"That is correct," Kelsey confirmed.

"Well, the bone that was found, a tibia, did belong to Mark Ellis."

"No, it couldn’t have," Kelsey said. "I saw his skeleton in the packed earth and after it was removed."

"You wouldn't have noticed the slight size difference," the coroner said. "You were right that the bone had come from the second crime scene found, but it came from the skeleton of Mark Ellis."

"Then that means… he switched the bones," Kelsey said.

"He must have," the coroner agreed.

"So, he goes back to the scene of his initial crime, kills the second victim, buries their remains in the same burial plot, uses his camera to shoot the first skeletal remains, but also switches the tibias of the victims." Kelsey tapped her bottom lip. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know," the coroner admitted. "For fun?"

"We have to go," John said when he got back to the coroner’s office. "Detective Hollis has just made an arrest."

CHAPTER FIVE

Kelsey didn't want to burst into the police station and make a scene, but John did so anyway. He burst through the double doors and drew the eyes of almost everyone in the small police station. He was annoyed that an arrest had been made without anyone letting him and Kelsey know it was about to happen. He and Kelsey didn't mind detectives and officers using their initiative, but they had been purposely kept out of the loop.

John was a large man, and while he was only an inch or so taller than everyone else in the police station, it was not his size that intimidated others. His years of active service, where he had led a team in and out of dire situations, gave him an aura that people could feel. John was an intimidating man, but people also felt compelled to help him and do as he asked.

John didn't notice Detective Hollis. Not at first. The detective stood at the back of the large open-plan room with a smug look on his face. Kelsey wanted to wait until John spotted him and headed for him, but she got ahead of the conflict before things would become heated. Kelsey strode toward Detective Hollis, and when he saw her coming, he did his best to look magnanimous.

"Special Agent Hawk, we have a potential suspect in custody," Detective Hollis said.

"Why weren’t we informed?" Kelsey asked.

"Do I need to tell you everything I am doing all of the time?" the detective asked. "Should I tell you when I go to the bathroom?"

"Detective, do you want to keep talking with me, or should I let Deputy Gallant have a turn?" She could feel John standing right behind her. The heat coming from him was suffocating. "Detective Hollis, if you need me to explain everything to you, then I will. I don't need to know every single action you take, but when you have a suspect, and you bring him in, I expect to be told about it before it happens. I’m not going to give you a list of everything that needs to be run by me. I am sure you can work out what is important and what is not. While you might not like us being here, we are here for a reason, and both of our records speak for themselves. So, how about we put all of this behind us and talk about the man you have brought in."

Detective Hollis shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as he considered the best way to respond to the attack. He stared at Kelsey, not looking around the room. All eyes were on him.

"His name is Henry Tate," Detective Hollis said, still not looking away from Kelsey. "How about you come into my office, and I'll take you through what we have so far?"

"I would appreciate that," Kelsey replied.

"We need some lunch," John said. "While you chat with Detective Hollis, I’ll grab us some sandwiches. I don't think the detective wants me in his office right now until I’ve gotten some fresh air."

"Sounds like a good idea," Kelsey said. "Detective?"

"Whatever needs to be done," Detective Hollis said. He stepped away from the situation, leading Kelsey toward his office.

"Some good, clean protein!" Kelsey shouted after John as he headed for the door. "Chicken or fish or something like that."

John waved his hand in the air to acknowledge he had heard.

Kelsey knew there was some sense in the detective's head. He had removed himself from the situation and the haze of the people he was in charge of and had maintained control over the situation by taking Kelsey to his office. She could berate him in there, but no one would be around to see it.

"So, who is Henry Tate?" Kelsey asked.

"He’s a taxidermist," Detective Hollis replied. The detective rounded his desk and gestured toward the chair on the opposite side. "He’s a known entity to some of the people in town, and let’s just say that he's… weird."

"Weird won’t cut it," Kelsey said. "Tell me why you brought him in. I know you are good at this job, Detective, so take me through your thought process."

Detective Hollis’s shoulders sunk a little as he relaxed with just him and Kelsey in the office. He was on home turf, and that gave him a little advantage. Still, there was a look in his eyes that told Kelsey he wanted to get the better of her. If she were being honest, she wouldn't mind that. She knew she was good, and if there was someone better working the case with her, then they stood the best chance of catching their killer.

"One of our crime scene photographers has worked with Henry Tate before," Detective Hollis said. "He stuffs and perseveres animals as a taxidermist, and from what we have gathered so far, most of his work involves pets who have died. I don't get it myself, but I guess people want to keep their pets around after they have died. That is where his income comes from, but in his spare time, he likes to stage shoots."

"Stage shoots?" Kelsey asked.

"Yeah, it’s weird. And he doesn’t hide it or anything. He has a website where he displays this weirdness to the world. He takes animals and stuffs them and then places them in weird positions and… what’s the word? Dioramas!" The detective tapped on the keyboard of his laptop and turned it to face Kelsey. "This is one of his works. I mean, what is that? I get what it is, but why does he do that?"

Kelsey studied the screen. Henry had created a scene with two gophers that had been stuffed and positioned in a nineteen-fifties kitchen. One was over the stove, cooking supper, and the other was pressing a pair of pants.

"That is quite funny," Kelsey said. "Takes real skill, too."

Detective Hollis scoffed. "It’s just so… weird. I mean, why waste real skill on something like that? What’s the point of all this?"

"Creative urges," Kelsey said. "You mentioned that your crime scene photographer has worked with him to take photos. How about Mark Ellis? Has he worked with Henry Tate?"

Detective Hollis’ eyes widened, and he gritted his teeth. He was annoyed that he had not thought of the possible connection.

"I’m sure that’s on your list to follow up," Kelsey said, trying to get him on her side as much as possible. "We can ask him when we go in there."

"Of course," the detective said. "So, that stuff is weird, right, and there are dozens of pictures like this. Animals in little scenes and other animals dressed up like humans. There's even a series of roadkill where he places flowers next to them and photographs them. Sorry, I’m rambling now. Hold on a second." Detective Hollis tapped on the keyboard again before turning the screen to face Kelsey once more. "These are the photos you will be interested in."

Kelsey looked at the photographs and furrowed her brow a little, leaning in closer. "Yeah. Now, these are interesting," Kelsey admitted.

She clicked to move between the photos in the series. They were all squirrels. Kelsey was reasonably sure they were squirrels, but she could not be sure as the skeletons had been stripped entirely. The bones were buried to look like an archeological dig, with small pails, tools, and stakes and wires surrounding the partially uncovered bones. In a couple of the last pictures, live-looking squirrels holding tools were staged beside the excavation pits.

"Looks the same, doesn’t it?" Detective Hollis asked.

"Similar enough to warrant us talking with him," Kelsey admitted.

She stared at the photos some more. They were not exactly the same as what they had found, with the skeleton being horizontal in the ground instead of vertical in the side of a butte, but the same skill was apparent. The bones were partially uncovered in the same way as the human skeletons had been.

"This is good work," Kelsey admitted. "And it fits with the profile we are building of him. We are looking for someone skilled in what they do but with some sort of playful nature. That doesn't mean we are looking for someone who is fun, but someone who likes to play games and likes to confuse others or prove to them that they are better."

Detective Hollis quickly looked down at the desk. Kelsey had not aimed that last part at him, but it did fit. She only hoped that he could overcome his insecurity to work fully with her and John.

"So, shall we take a crack at him?" Kelsey asked.

"You don't want to wait for your partner?" the detective asked.

"I want to move quickly on this, and you brought him in. I’m sure you have some questions for him."

"I do," Detective Hollis said.

"Alright," Kelsey replied. "Let’s go and talk with him now."

Detective Hollis quickly rose from the desk and led the way again. The station was not large; it had only one utility room, which doubled as a holding room and interview room. Detective Hollis took the lead, entering the room first. Kelsey followed him in.

The first thing she noticed was that Henry was dressed all in black. The second thing that caught her was that he was a small and wiry man. He might still have some strength, but she had the impression that he was not the sort of man who could move bodies through the badlands. Still, she had learned to expect the unexpected when it came to trial killers.

"Mr. Tate, I have Special Agent Hawk with me. We’d like to ask you a few questions," Detective Hollis said.

"And I'll answer them, of course," Henry replied. "I would like to know why I am here."

Kelsey sat down on the opposite side of the table from Henry, and she got straight down to business. "Murder," she stated. "We are investigating a double homicide, and we would like to ask you some questions about it."

"Hmm," Henry said. His demeanor didn't change at all, and he did not seem fazed that he had been brought to the police station in connection with two deaths.

"You deal in death, don't you, Mr. Tate?" Kelsey asked.

The man before he looked to be in his late thirties. His face was gaunt, the cheeks drawn in, and his eyebrows were thin and wispy. He was balding, and it looked like that extended to his eyebrows, too.

"Yes, I deal in death," he replied.

"You must have seen a lot of things in your time," Kelsey noted.

"Things you wouldn't believe," Henry replied.

"Really?" Kelsey asked. "What sorts of things, Henry?"

"Oh, I don't know," he replied. "Animals that have been mangled, and people expect me to put them back together again for them. I could point you in the direction of some people who are hurting animals if you like."

"Maybe some other time, Henry. I am interested in hearing more about that, though, but I need your help with another matter. A more serious matter," Kelsey said.

"I'll help in any way I can," Henry replied.

"You enlist photographers from time to time," Kelsey said. "I have heard that Mark Ellis is one of the best photographers in town. Have you worked with him before?"

"Hah!" Henry scoffed. "He’s a hack. He thinks he’s artistic because he takes photos that are indecipherable, but he’s predictable in his vagueness. He believes that because his photos can't be understood, they are on a level above what everyone else does."

"So, you have worked with him before?" Kelsey asked.

"No, I’ve never worked with him," Henry said. "I spoke to him a year or two ago in the pub, and he went on and on about his work. He was very pompous."

"Have you seen him since then?" Kelsey asked.

"No, thank goodness," Henry replied.

Kelsey placed her hands on the table and nodded. "How is your website doing, Henry? Any thoughts on driving traffic to it? You must want people to look at your stuff."

"No one understands it," he replied.

"No one understood Mark Ellis’ work either," Detective Hollis pointed out.

Henry furrowed this borrows and glared at the detective.

"What do you do in your spare time, Henry? I hear you like to take walks in the badlands?"

"Yes, sometimes," Henry replied.

"Down by Elkhorn Ranch?" Kelsey asked.

"Yes, maybe," Henry said.

"When was the last time you were down there?" Kelsey asked.

"I… I don't know for sure. I don't track when I am down there. Wh-what is this all about? You said that you were investigating a double murder, but I haven’t done anything, and I can't help you with your investigation, so maybe I should leave and let you get on with your work."

"No, we need you to stay here and answer our questions," Detective Hollis replied. "You seem to be a little foggy on the details. You don't remember when the last time it was as you were in the badlands? Does that mean you haven’t been down there for a while? Our records show you are an avid hiker, Henry."

"Yes, I am. I do a lot of hiking," Henry replied. "I don't keep track of. I mean, who would keep track of something like that."

"You like working with bones," Kelsey said. "I saw your dioramas where you have moved the skin and flesh from the animal bones. It looked like really good work, Henry. Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I-I taught myself," he replied. "I’ve always been naturally good at that sort of thing."

"What sort of thing is that?" Kelsey asked.

"I don't know," Henry said. "Just… dealing with animals and stuff."

"Stuff?" Detective Hollis said. "What sort of stuff?"

"I don't know." Henry was beginning to get frustrated. "I don't mean anything by that. Just that I am good with my hands; I don't know."

"Henry, can you account for your whereabouts over the last week?" Kelsey asked.

"The last week? Yes, I am sure that I can," Henry replied. "I… I can't recall exactly right now. You have me in this room, and you are asking me all of these questions, and I’m trying to tell you the truth, but I don’t know why you have to hold me here."

"Sorry, Henry, but can you recount your whereabouts over the past week?" Kelsey demanded.

"Every second of it?" Henry said as his breathing got quicker. "I haven’t done anything."

"Henry, we haven’t accused you of anything. We are only asking you where you have been over the past week. Do you spend all of your time in your home? At work? Have you interacted with many people? Have you spent a lot of time in the badlands?"

"The conference," Henry spurted. "There was a taxidermy conference."

"A taxidermy conference. Good," Kelsey said. "When was that, and where?"

"I don't remember," Henry replied. "It was in Fargo. Was it yesterday? No, not yesterday. Last week. It was… if you just give me a minute, I know I'll remember. It just feels so hot in here."

"Just take a minute, Henry," Kelsey said. "We will go and get you some water, and you can think about when the conference was. It’s important that you remember and that there's someone who can corroborate your story, okay?"

"I’ll remember." Henry rubbed a hand over his sweaty head. "I will. I just need a minute."

"Take your time," Kelsey said as she stood.

Detective Hollis followed her lead and got up from the table. They exited the room, leaving a flummoxed Henry Tate staring at the wall before him.

Kelsey flinched a little as the small parcel flew toward her, but she reached out into the air and snatched the wrapped sandwich that John had tossed. She looked up at him and smiled before raising her eyebrows.

"Good catch," he admitted. "How did you get on with Henry Tate in there?"

"I don't know yet," Kelsey admitted. "He’s flustered and didn't answer the questions we wanted him to answer, but I don't think he's our guy. Still, he's weird enough to have done it, so I’d like to keep him here until we get some answers. Detective Hollis, can you follow up on the taxidermy convention? See if you can get the dates of the convention and make some calls and see if anyone remembers Henry Tate?"

"I’ll see what I can find," the detective huffed.

John waited for Detective Hollis to leave before he said, "Wow, he seems almost agreeable. What happened in that room?"

"I’m afraid that is a matter of great privacy." Kelsey smiled before she unwrapped the chicken sandwich and took a bite.

"I need to get back to Winchburgh," John said.

"What?" Kelsey asked.

"Samantha called me again. I told her that there was an ongoing investigation, so I wouldn’t be back in town for a while, and she said she was fine with that. I don't know. There was something in her voice that scared me. I know I shouldn’t be leaving right now, but we don't have any active leads, and I…"

"You need to know what she wants to talk to you about," Kelsey said.

"Yeah," John replied.

"Do you think…? Do you think she wants to get back together with you?" Kelsey asked.

"I don't know what she wants," John admitted.

Do you want to get back together with her?

Kelsey wanted to ask that, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn't want to hear the answer.

"Hey, will you give me a call when you find out what she wants?" Kelsey asked. "I care about you, and I want to make sure she’s not messing you around. I don't mean that she would, but—"

"I know what you mean," John said. "I’ll call you when I’ve spoken to her."

"Okay," Kelsey said.

"Okay," John repeated. "If I leave now, it means I can get back here sooner. I don't know if I'll be back tonight, but hopefully tomorrow."

"Drive safe," Kelsey said.

She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until she knew what Samantha wanted to talk to John about. Then, depending on what that was, she might still not be able to sleep.

CHAPTER SIX

Kelsey looked at her phone. She double-tapped on the screen to check her notifications. There were various messages from different apps, but no message from John. She checked the time: 6:08 am. Kelsey rubbed her forehead and flopped back onto the bed. She had fallen asleep sometime around three. Kelsey could investigate serial killers and sleep easily, but she hadn’t heard from the man she had feelings for, and it rendered her sleepless.

A flash of light zipped across the room. Kelsey sat up in bed and quickly realized that it was not a flash of light but the removal of light and then the light returning. She looked quickly at the bottom of the door to her motel room and saw the light shift again as someone moved out there.

Her immediate thought was that it was John who had returned with breakfast for them.

If John had returned, he would have knocked at the door or called me.

Kelsey slipped out of bed silently and grabbed her gun from the bedside table. She took it from the holster and flicked off the safety. Kelsey crept across the room in the shorts and t-shirt she had worn to bed, checking the bottom of the door the entire time. She went to the window first and pulled it slightly aside.

The landing outside was on the second level, and while it was dark outside, a combination of streetlights in the parking lot and additional lights on the second-level walkway illuminated the exterior. No one was outside her door. She looked down into the parking lot but could not see any movement.

Kelsey went to the door and quietly unlocked it. She pulled it open and pointed her gun out. She stepped out and swung to the left, pointing the gun, before doing the same to the right. There was no one there.

The motel wrapped around in a horseshoe shape but without the gentle curve. On the other side of the building, she saw a child in the window looking over at her. Kelsey did the only thing she could think of. She raised her hand and waved. The small child waved back to her.

She was about to go back into her room when she saw a sheet of paper on the ground outside her door. She picked it up and scanned the immediate area again, looking for any movement. Everything was still. Kelsey took the sheet of paper from the ground, went back into her room, closed the door, and then locked it.

Before studying what was on the sheet, she returned to the bedside table and put her gun back in its holster.

Then she looked at what had been left at her door. It was a map of the badlands. An ‘x’ had been drawn on it.

‘X’ marks the spot.

Kelsey placed herself where the ‘x’ was on the map. She initially thought it was where the two bodies had been found, but it was a little ways from there.

What is it you want me to find there? What have you left for us?

She had no doubt that the killer had left the map for her.

Kelsey grabbed her phone and called the station.

"Willford Police Station," an officer answered.

"Is Detective Hollis in?" Kelsey asked.

"I'll just get him for you."

Kelsey was pleasantly surprised that he was in the station already.

"Detective Hollis," the detective answered.

"It’s Special Agent Hawk. Listen, do you still have Henry Tate in custody?"

"No, we released him last night. I… I should have called you," the detective said.

"No, don't worry about it. You got an alibi for him?" Kelsey asked.

"The convention was on from the twenty-sixth until the twenty-ninth," Detective Hollis said. "That covers the time Sarah Jennings was killed. They have check-in times for Henry Tate each morning of the convention. I-I don't know if we have an eyewitness sighting. Is it possible that he had someone else check in for him as cover?"

"I still don't think he's our guy, but I want you to check where Henry is right now and keep an eye on him. Can you send someone to his house as soon as possible and make sure he's there?"

"Yeah, of course. What’s going on?" Detective Hollis asked.

"I don't know yet," Kelsey replied.

"Can you meet me back at the Roosevelt Ranch in ninety minutes?"

"Just the two of us?" Detective Hollis asked.

"For now," Kelsey replied.

"Yeah, I'll see you there," the detective said.

Kelsey said goodbye to him and hung up.

She got dressed and checked the map again before texting a picture of it over to Detective Hollis. Then, she left her room and walked over to the other side of the motel. She knocked on the door where the child had been in the window.

A woman in her twenties answered, and while she looked annoyed that someone was there, she did not look as if she had been woken from sleep.

Kelsey showed her badge. "I’m Special Agent Hawk. I’m staying in the room across the way. I, uh, had someone deliver something to my room this morning, and I think your daughter might have seen who it was. Would you mind asking her if she could describe the person?"

"Do we have to answer any of your questions? Do you have a warrant or anything?" the woman asked.

"No, I don't have a warrant, and you don't have to answer any of my questions," Kelsey replied. "If you would like me to leave, you have every right to ask that of me."

The woman twisted her lips a little and placed a hand on her hip. "Evelyn!"

A moment later, the young girl appeared in the doorway.

"Did you see someone across the way?" the woman asked.

"I saw a man," Evelyn replied.

"A man?" Kelsey asked.

"I don't know, really," she replied. "It looked like a man. He wore a black shirt and a black hat and black pants and black shoes."

"Did you see anything else?" Kelsey asked. "Was he carrying anything?"

"I don't know," Evelyn replied.

"And did you see where he went?" Kelsey continued.

"He went down the stairs, and then, I don't know." Evelyn shook her head.

"Thank you, Evelyn," Kelsey said. "You have been very helpful."

"Are we done?" the woman asked.

"Yeah, we are done," Kelsey replied.

The woman twisted her mouth to the side and then stepped back and closed the door. Kelsey returned to her room and got dressed. She checked her phone again to see if John had called or texted (he had not), and then went downstairs and across the road to the twenty-four-hour cafe for a bagel and coffee to take with her on the road as she drove back to the Badlands.

***

About to head into the badlands with Detective Hollis. Maybe it will be a good bonding experience. Or maybe only one of us will come back out.

Kelsey hit send on the text to John. She sat for a second, staring at the screen, waiting to see if the two ticks turned from black to blue to show that he had read the message and not only received it. They did not change. She stuck her phone in her pocket when she heard the crunching gravel of another car approaching.

She got out of her car and raised a hand in greeting to Detective Hollis as he pulled up. He got out of the car with a coffee in hand.

"I don't like being ordered out into the Badlands without being told where we are going," he sniped.

Kelsey found it almost comforting to have him back to his old, argumentative self.

"Did you not look at the map?" Kelsey asked.

"Yeah, I looked at the map," the detective replied.

"I think the killer might have left it for me," Kelsey told him. "I don't know what it leads us to, but he likes to play games."

"What if… what if it's a trap?" Detective Hollis asked.

"That’s why I brought you along," Kelsey replied.

Detective Hollis’ mouth hung open a little, and he stared at Kelsey as he tried to work out if she was messing with him or not.

"It’s not a trap," Kelsey assured him. "I’m pretty certain that it's not. He wouldn’t expect me to come out here alone, and if he's out there waiting for me, I can handle myself. No, this is something else. Some game that he likes to play. He wants to be in control of the situation, and by sending me out here, he can be in control. It’s a mistake by him. It gives me more information into who he is."

"He knows you are investigating him," Detective Hollis pointed out. "What else does he know?"

"We will find out in time," Kelsey said.

"You asked about Henry Tate," the detective said. "Do you think that he did this?"

"I don’t know. I would have liked to rule him out as a possibility, but that won’t be possible just yet."

Detective Hollis pursed his lips and looked off into the distance at the butte where the first body had been found. The excavation site was not visible from where they were standing, but all that was left of it now was a small cavern dug into the earth. The landscape of the Badlands had been permanently changed by the killer.

"Come on, let’s go check out what treasure we can find," Kelsey said.

They took off together. As soon as Kelsey started walking, the detective walked with her, not following her. She wondered if he knew where he was going or if he didn't want to be one step behind. She had visited the Badlands on multiple occasions, and she had gotten to know the people who lived around them. They had a respect for the Badlands, but they also knew them well.

"Did you grow up around here?" Kelsey asked as they walked in the brisk morning air.

"No," the detective replied. "I grew up close to Fargo and was posted out here a couple of years ago."

"I get that," Kelsey replied. "Well, partly. I grew up in a small town and moved to the city as quickly as I could. I loved it there, but I was posted to Winchburgh a couple of years ago."

"I’m going back to the city the first chance I get," Detective Hollis told her.

"Does that mean you were forced to come out here, Detective?" Kelsey asked.

"I thought it would be a quicker way for me to move up," Detective Hollis said. "But it really is boring out here."

"A serial killer not doing it for you?" Kelsey asked.

"As I said when you arrived, excitement and murder seem to follow you."

You are welcome.

Kelsey thought about saying it aloud, but the joke was far too macabre to vocalize.

"I don't know," Kelsey said. "I always thought I would go back to the city the first chance I got, but places like this kind of grow on you. The landscape is beautiful, the people are good people, and you get used to the slower pace."

"Then, we are very different people," Detective Hollis said. "There’s nothing keeping me here."

Kelsey felt some irritation. She wanted to argue with him, to rationalize why he should be content with what he had in his small town, but maybe they were different. She had reasons to stay: John and Erica, while Detective Hollis did not. She did not know that for sure, but she suspected there was no one important in his life.

Or perhaps there were important people elsewhere. When Kelsey left Valleyview, she had left her problems behind. She was engaged and found her partner cheating on her, so it had been easy to cut that part of her life out of her life. She couldn’t judge the detective based on unknowns.

"You have to do what will make you happy," Kelsey told him. "But, try to help others along the way."

Detective Hollis did not respond, and the two of them walked on in silence through the sliced valleys of Theodore Roosevelt National Park. Kelsey took deep breaths in. Each new piece of information helped her to get inside the head of the killer, but it was not only his psyche that she was interested in, but the overall picture. He had killed two people in the Badlands, and now, he had sent Kelsey back into them. The Badlands were important to him. He had spent a lot of time in them.

Kelsey took another deep breath. She breathed in what he would have breathed in as he walked the same paths.

Is it the Badlands themselves or this part specifically? Is Theodore Roosevelt important to your plans? Or do you just need to be in the Badlands? Or did you bury them here because there was nowhere else? Would you have just buried them in a field if that were the only option? How you stage them is important, but what about where?

"It should be around here somewhere," Detective Hollis said.

Kelsey noticed that he had not looked at a map once, and she appreciated that in him. He would have looked at the map before getting out of his vehicle or sometime before that, and he had memorized where to go.

They both slowed, and Kelsey took out her map to be certain they were in the correct spot. The map showed a lot of the area, and from the size of the ‘x’ on the page, it could cover a fifty-yard square.

"Let’s spread out and look," Kelsey suggested.

Kelsey spun around on the spot, looking for something obvious in the area they had been brought to. Large mesas surrounded them on two sides, with the valley moving through the middle. The flat tops were walkable, but there was no spot to hike up from where they stood. She considered that whatever they had to find might be somewhere up there, and they would have to find a way up if they did not find anything in the valley.

Detective Hollis must have had the same idea as she did, and he took one flat face of the mesa on one side of the valley while Kelsey took the other. The dirt layered on the side of the mesa in this area was more red than brown or sandy, with more iron content on the soil that had been brought out over hundreds of years by the rain.

Kelsey and Detective Hollis both got close to the flat sides on opposite sides of the wide cavern, looking for more bones sticking out. They both came up empty-handed. Kelsey turned and scanned the area again, seeing Detective Hollis do the same. She looked over at the small clump of bushes, not three feet tall or wide, and she knew that was the spot. Whoever had sent her wanted her to find the present, not someone else. It was left in plain sight but would still be somewhat hidden.

"There!" Kelsey called, pointing to the clump of bushes that were slightly closer to the detective.

They both closed in on the spot, with Detective Hollis getting there first.

"Aw, no!" the detective called. "I shouldn’t have let him go."

Kelsey didn't respond to him. She closed in on the bush until she could see what he saw. She had to bend over and look down through the middle of the bushes where a small clearing in the middle provided a view of the scene from above that was not visible from the side.

The clearing contained a small diorama of a squirrel. It was dead, but the skin had not been removed. It was not skeletal remains but an entire squirrel posed as if it were sleeping under the stars.

"Don't touch it," Kelsey warned. "I think he used clothing from the victims. Look." She pointed down at the squirrel. "He fashioned a small seeping bag that is the same color as Sarah Jennings’s shirt, and the stuffed pillow could be from Mark Ellis’s pants. We need to get a team down here."

"This is my goddamn fault!" Detective Hollis shouted. "Is that why you brought me down here? To rub my face in it?"

"Detective!" Kelsey warned. "Get on the phone and get a team down here, and then find out where Henry Tate is and bring him back in."

"I’ll fix this," the Detective said as he scrambled for his phone. "I’ll fix this. We had him, and I let him go! What if he has skipped town already?"

"Find out where he is," Kelsey ordered.

Detective Hollis pulled out his phone and strode away from the diorama in the bush to make the call.

Kelsey stared down at the squirrel in the bush.

What are you telling me? I don't think you are telling me anything. You want to play with us, toy with us, show how clever you are. We are your puppets to do your bidding. The bones in the buttes mean something. You want to preserve them, display them for the world, and gain notoriety and longevity, but this is for fun, isn’t it?

"Special Agent Hawk!" Detective Hollis called when he got off the phone. "Henry Tate is missing. They checked his house, and he was not there. I have everyone out there looking for him right now. They’ll find him." The detective rubbed his head. He added the next part just for himself. "They’ll find him before he kills again."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Linda Carter drew her brush across the canvas. She moved as if being guided by a force of nature. That was evident to anyone watching her, but especially so to the person who was transfixed.

They had done their research on the local artist. Linda Carter spent a lot of time wandering the badlands, something the watcher could relate to dearly. Linda sometimes camped in the badlands overnight, seeking to feel the colors and shapes more than remember them. The watcher had been on Linda’s website and read through her bio and blogs. Linda did not paint a live scene or even recall what she had seen. She touched the brush to the canvas and painted the layers of feeling.

The watcher was hypnotized by the horizontal brushstrokes that built up the layers of the hoodoos as if my magic. What began as a few layers of colors became a memory and a feeling for the watcher. They closed their eyes and could smell the raw earth of the Badlands. They reached out, yearning to touch the soil.

The watcher opened their eyes again and smiled.

You create works of art, but so do I. You will not have the chance to thank me, but I am doing you a service. Your paintings are stunning, but they will gain no notoriety in your lifetime. They will become your legacy in your death. We all need a legacy.

The watcher sighed in pleasure. They could create from nothing, but in a very different way to the artist before them. Linda Carter recreated the hoodoos with nothing but a left-to-right swish of their arm. It was so simple that a child could do it. Yet, a child wouldn't be able to do it. Most adults wouldn't be able to do it. She was the one who could do it because she had some brilliance locked up inside.

The watcher took a moment to think about brilliance. There was one type of brilliance, the type that was considered good by the masses. It was the safe brilliance that was often rewarded in a child. It was the sort of brilliance that created artists and musicians. It was a brilliance that was devoured by the world.

They had a different kind of brilliance. Linda Carter had some of that brilliance, but she was not complete in it. The watcher was. They created monoliths to time. They inserted themselves into the world in a way meant to disturb a way of life or challenge a belief. To look upon their work was to be dumbfounded by the misunderstood, and even when the viewer thought they understood, they never really did. They blinded themselves with the need to understand what was before them instead of admitting their ignorance.

The watcher checked their phone again.

We must get together soon. It has been far too long.

They sneered at the message. It had been far too long, but they had no intention of connecting with the message sender. It was what they were supposed to do, but why must something be done because it was expected? If the watcher knew anything, it was that the unexpected was the most fun.

They drew their attention back to Linda Carter. Her fiery red hair was reminiscent of some sunsets often seen in the Badlands or the tint of the stone atop large hoodoos when the sun hit it just right. The iron in the rocks created a rustic red that was unlike any other. It was unexpected. No one expected a rock to paint such a beautiful color on the landscape.

And what of you, Special Agent Hawk? Did you like what you saw in the Badlands? Was it unexpected?

They could still feel the rush of being outside the FBI agent’s door in the early morning. There were windows all around, and they could easily have been caught or spotted and identified, but what fun was life if there was not a little danger involved? And how uninspired would it be to kill someone in a way that had been done dozens of times before?

Did you enjoy looking down into the bush and seeing the peaceful squirrel? Oh, how I would have liked to have seen your face, Special Agent Hawk. Do you believe you are close to catching me? Do you really believe you will ever catch me? If I wanted you to catch me, I would make it happen, but this is not how this story ends. Who remembers the killers caught? They will remember me long after all of this is over.

Linda Carter continued to paint in her garage studio, oblivious to being watched from across the street. She was short, and her red hair was bouncy with curls. There was a movement about her that showed genuine happiness, which was a rare thing in people. The watcher knew that people often projected happiness, but it was rare to obtain true happiness. Again, it was what was expected of people.

What is it you truly desire? Is it happiness?

The watcher did not ask themselves that question. They had read it in a book once before, and the quote came back to them. The author had been a fool and had gone on to plot the main character’s journey toward happiness, obtaining it at the end of the book. The story was meant to be a real-life tale of a man’s struggle against all odds but could be more aptly described as a fantasy story.

The story I am weaving is one with no happiness because happiness is not what is needed in this world. What the world needs is to be shocked with a story like no other. It needs to be reminded that there's more out there. It needs to know me.

Linda Carter swished her hand from left to right, and each stroke told a story. Yet, it also brought happiness. The watcher could see it in her movements. Linda Carter found pleasure in creating the art, and the watcher knew why. It was not because of any self-expression or because they had created anything new. They were giddy in expectation of someone else staring down at their work and calling it beautiful. They were expectant of being told they had done something good.

Then you must find it beautiful or know you have done something good. Yet, your urges reveal you. You know it's not truly good, but soon, you will know true art in death. Soon, you will be a part of someone else’s story, but a worthwhile one. No one will ever know my name, but they will know my work.

Linda Carter downed her tool and took a rag to wipe her brow. It was pathetic in comparison to what the watcher had done. Linda had brushed from side to side with some paint. The watcher had murdered two people and skinned them down to their bones. They had shouldered the burden of carrying them through the Badlands and encasing them in mud.

You sweat after a modicum of work? Don't worry; you will bleed soon.

Linda Carter rolled her shoulders and passed through the door connecting her studio garage to her main house. The watcher did not know if Linda would be back anytime soon, but they did not care.

I'll return to your life sometime soon. When I do, it will signal the end of your pitiful existence.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kelsey didn't hear the door to the police station open, but something made her look over from the printer. When she did, she saw John entering, and it felt like a bottle of champagne had been popped as the bubbles rose up inside her. When he looked over at her and smiled, she could not help but smile back.

She immediately went to him, ready to embrace her partner, but thought better of it when she realized they were in the middle of the police station. Instead, she stuck out her hand awkwardly, and John shook it with a wry smile on his lips.

As soon as he let go of her hand, she pushed his shoulder, causing him to take a half-step back.

"I know you had stuff to deal with, but you’ve been gone for almost three days," Kelsey moaned.

"I know," he replied. "I… can we go and get some coffee or something, and you can catch me up on the case?"

"It’s almost five," Kelsey replied. "How about a beer and a burger?"

"It’s going that well?" John asked.

"I feel like we are beating our heads against a brick wall, waiting for him to strike again or leave us a little treasure to find."

John raised his eyebrows.

"You can drive, and I’ll bring you up to speed," Kelsey said.

As they left the police station, Kelsey had another feeling. It wasn’t the pleasant one where she had sensed John entering. When she looked around this time, she saw Detective Hollis watching the two of them leave.

Is he jealous and wants to go for a beer, too? Maybe I’ll invite him along next time.

John opened the passenger door of his truck and closed it again once Kelsey was inside. He got into the driver seat and started the ignition, pulling out of the police station parking lot.

"You didn't answer your phone," Kelsey said. "I tried to call you. Multiple times."

"I know, and I’m sorry," John replied. "How about you bring me up to speed here, and I'll bring you up to speed on what is going on in Winchburgh?"

"We’re headed to the only pub in town, the same pub where Henry Tate spoke with Mark Ellis a couple of years ago. Maybe we get lucky and bump into him there," Kelsey said.

"We need to talk with him again?" John asked.

"We need to find him first," Kelsey replied.

"He’s done a runner? Does that mean he's the killer?"

"I don't know what he is," Kelsey replied. "He has an alibi from the taxidermy conference, but we don't yet have someone who laid eyes on him, and this was not the sort of event with extensive CCTV cameras. His keycard was swiped into and out of the event, but that could have been done by someone else. Or, he swiped in, left the event, and made it back in time to swipe back in. Still, from what I know of Henry Tate, I don't see him as some criminal mastermind who could have come up with this plan. He’s weird and nervous, and he fits the profile in some ways, but I don't think he has the guts or intelligence to toy with us as the killer is doing."

"What’s been going on?" John asked as he turned off the main street and down one of the side streets.

"The morning after I left, someone came to my motel door in the early morning and left a map there. It took us to a spot in the Badlands."

"You and Detective Hollis."

"So, you got my texts, at least."

"Again, I am sorry for not replying," John said.

"We went out there and found what he had left for us. I’ll show you the pictures when we get back to the station. He took a squirrel and dressed it up to look like it was sleeping under the stars. We’ve matched the two fabrics he used to fabrics from both murders. He took fabric from the skirt Sarah Jennings was wearing when she was killed and some from Mark Ellis’ pants. He fashioned them into a pillow and slowing bag for the dead squirrel."

"So, he planned on doing this when he killed them?" John asked.

"There’s a good chance that he did, or he took the pieces of fabric, planning on doing something with them but not knowing fully what until after."

"And it looks like the work of Henry Tate," John noted.

"Yeah, it does," Kelsey confirmed. "He was released from custody on the night you left after his alibi was confirmed, but when a patrol car went to his house the next morning after we had visited the badlands, he was not there. He’s been missing ever since. We are checking with family and friends, but we haven’t turned up anything yet."

"Something spooked him," John said. "He wouldn't have run for no reason, and I am sure you have tried to get in contact with him and he's ignoring your calls or messages. So, he doesn’t want to be found."

"It would seem that way," Kelsey said. "We will find him. I don't like playing these games with the killer. We checked the diorama he left us, and there were no fingerprints, no DNA, and nothing to connect Henry Tate or anyone else to what was left for us. The killer is out there, plotting the next kill, and he has us running around finding squirrels in bushes. It’s humiliating, and he probably thinks it’s clever. It’s just not Henry Tate, but if it’s not Henry Tate, then someone is going to a lot of trouble to make us think it is. If the killer believes that will work, then they are not as clever as they think they are."

"Even if they are clever, they are not half as smart as you are," John said as he pulled to a halt. "They can play whatever games they want, but we both know that the more they interact with us, the more you have to work with."

"I know, but it’s still frustrating to be sent on these wild goose chases."

"Your beer and burger are on me," John said as he looked out of the window at the pub.

"I was going to make you pay for me anyway after disappearing for three days, but I appreciate the sentiment," Kelsey said.

She and John both got out of the truck, and they entered the pub.

There were not many people inside, but those who were sitting spread around the tables looked up at the door as it opened, stared at John and Kelsey for a moment, and then went back to their drinks.

The entire town seemed to be rooted in the past. They were very proud of the Roosevelt heritage, and that was evident in almost every way—he was showcased everywhere, and there was a large painting of him hanging over the fireplace. Yellow flames burned from the wood beneath. The decor within was also old, but it didn't necessarily need updating. In a large city, the pub might be bought over and modernized, but there was a rustic charm within.

Kelsey took a cursory look around to see if Henry Tate just happened to be in there and then found a table with John when she found he was not. A couple of locals stared over at them as they waited for the server to approach. Kelsey had been in a few similar small-town bars where there was no server, and you ordered straight from the bar, but this one had embraced modern life in some way, and there was a young woman going around taking orders.

"I visited Erica while I was back there," John said.

"Aw, thank you," Kelsey said. "I’ve been calling back from time to time, but it never feels like I am doing enough, and I know it never will. How is she doing?"

"She… uh—" John stopped talking when the server came to their table.

"What can I get for yas?" the server asked.

"I have a question for you," John said. "Are the locals really staring at us because we are outsiders? It feels like we have three heads or something."

"No, it’s not that," the server said. "Everyone is talking about what is going on in the Badlands, and… well, no one wants to come out and say it, but everyone is kind of freaked out about everything right now, and they are sort of wondering when you are going to arrest someone for this."

"We will arrest someone as soon as we can," John said.

"And… are there going to be any more?" the server asked."It’s just that stuff like this doesn’t really happen around here, ya know?"

"We really are doing everything we can," Kelsey assured. "I can't give you any more information than that, but we are working around the clock to catch whoever is behind this."

"Alright, thank you. I'll tell them. It’s just that people are… I don't know."

"Scared to go out," Kelsey said.

"Apart from this lot," the server said, gesturing behind her. "I don't think anything has stopped most of them from coming to the pub for the last ten or twenty years."

"People need a slice of normal life in times like this," Kelsey said.

"Special Agent Hawk is the best at what she does," John told the server. "You are in safe hands. We can't guarantee anything, but I can guarantee that no one will do a better job than she will."

"Well, we are sure glad to have you then," the server said to Kelsey. "What can I get for the two of ya?"

"We’d like a couple of beers," Kelsey said. "Anything in a bottle."

"And a couple of burgers," John added. "The biggest you have, and fries with both. Oh, and some gravy."

"You got it," the server replied.

"I’m starving," John said after the server had left.

A couple of the regulars still glanced their way as they nursed their drinks.

"You were talking about my sister," Kelsey said. "Something’s off?"

"She saw someone," John admitted. "It took some time to get it out of her, but I knew something was off when I went over there. I don't think she wanted to worry you while you are away."

"Who did she see?" Kelsey asked.

"I don't know. I don’t know if she knows," John said. "She was out walking a couple of days ago, and she was sure someone was following her. She told me that she ran and hid in a store, but she didn't see the man again. All she remembers is that he wore a large jacket and had his hood up even though it was warm out. She told me she was fine, but she’s pretty freaked out."

"Alright." Kelsey sighed. "I’ll give her a call and speak with her; see what’s going on. I really hope she's doing okay, and this is not because I am not there. I want to protect her, but it feels like really bad timing. If someone was out there, waiting to take her, they would have done it by now. They wouldn’t wait until I was out of town and then follow her. If they are waiting for an opportunity, they have missed plenty of them. Yet, if there's no one following her and it's all in her mind, I don't know if that is worse. I just want her to be better."

"And it will take time." John reminded her. "She went through decades of torture and brainwashing. That can’t be undone in a few months. I know it must be hard to be away from her, so we solve this case and get back to town as soon as we can."

Kelsey took a swig of her beer. "That’s easier said than done. Our main suspect has mysteriously disappeared, and I can feel the eyes of the town on us. People are talking in the shadows, and the longer it goes on without us being able to give them any good news, the more they will worry, and the last thing we need is a whole town of people on edge."

 "I’m back and ready to do whatever it takes to help the town," John said.

Kelsey had been putting off the question she really wanted to ask, and she could see that John was putting off talking about it. She took another drink of her beer and knew they had to get it out in the open, or it would eat her up inside.

"You, eh, went back to talk with Samantha," Kelsey said, looking around the bar. "What was it she wanted to talk about?"

"She, uh, is dating someone," John said.

"Oh." Kelsey felt the pressure in her chest release. "I—I’m… I don't know what to say about that. How do you feel about it?"

"Now or at first?" John asked. He flashed a sardonic smile. "I didn't take it the best when she first told me. That’s why I didn't come back immediately. When she told me face to face, I spoke to her about it and asked questions and said all the right things, but as soon as I was alone… I let it get to me. I know we are over, and I know there's no chance of us getting back together, and I don't even want that, but it felt like she had moved on from me for good, and I don't know if this is an ego thing or the last chapter of a story finally been written, but something about it got to me. I don't even know the guy, but he seems fine from what she told me about him. Still, he’s my replacement. That was all I could think about."

"He’ll never be your replacement," Kelsey replied. "You and Samantha have a daughter together, and—"

"No, I know all of that," John interrupted. "I know I’m being an idiot about all of this, and I should feel free of the past, but I didn't. Maybe I do now, I don't know. I sat in my apartment and drank for a day, and then I spent a day getting sobered up because of how stupid it was to drink for twenty-four hours because the woman you were once married to is dating someone else. I’m better now. It will take me a minute to get this all straight in my head, but I am good now, and it won't affect the job. I’ve thought about dating for the past year, but it always felt wrong, somehow. I think she thought the same, and it came down to which one of us would crack first and find someone else. Maybe I held on for too long."

"You can get out there again," Kelsey said. "You deserve to find some happiness, John."

Kelsey deserved some happiness, too, and she wanted to be the one to bring John some happiness in his life.

"Thank you for being here for me," John said. He reached out across the table and took Kelsey’s hand. "You are a brilliant special agent, but you are an even better friend. I know I have leaned on you a lot since we became friends, but you have never once refused to help me. You have supported me through the hardest time in my life, and I want you to know that I appreciate it."

"This has been a two-way street," Kelsey replied. "I have—"

Her sentence was cut short when the phone rang. She checked the name on the screen.

Detective Hollis

"Hello?" Kelsey answered. "Have you found him?"

"Henry Tate? No," the detective replied. "We still don't know where he is, but he might have struck again."

"There’s been another"—Kelsey lowered her voice—"murder?"

"Yeah. Yes," Detective Hollis replied. "I… uh… sorry, I don't know what to say. Can you just get down to the ranch as soon as possible? I know I’ve not been the most agreeable person since you got here, but we could really use your help with this one."

"We’re leaving now," Kelsey said.

She hung up, and she didn't need to say anything to John—he knew exactly what was happening from Kelsey’s side of the call. Kelsey looked toward the bar area and was about to call out to the server when she thought better of it. She got up and went to the bar as John pulled some cash from his wallet.

"Hey, are the burgers ready?" Kelsey asked quietly.

"Five or six minutes," the server said, a little annoyed that she was being questioned.

"Don't worry about it," Kelsey said. "We’ll pay for them, but we need to cancel them for now. We’re like to come back another time for food, but for now, just pretend we weren’t here."

The server must have guessed that Kelsey did not want to alert the rest of the bar that something was something wrong. She pursed her lips and nodded before going back to the kitchen to relay the order.

Kelsey and John slipped out of the bar and into John’s truck. John pulled slowly out of the parking lot. It was only when he reached the main road that he upped his speed as they traveled as quickly as they could to visit another set of Badlands bones.

CHAPTER NINE

Detective Hollis was waiting for them in the small parking lot at Roosevelt's Ranch. Multiple vehicles were parked in the area, but the two all-terrain vehicles (ATVs) were new.

"He’s moving farther away," Kelsey noted as he got out of John’s truck. "He can’t risk doing the same thing in the same location when he knows we will be watching more closely. Yet, he still chooses the same area."

"He’s changed how he does it," Detective Hollis said.

"He didn't bury the bones this time?" Kelsey asked.

"No," the detective replied. "He, uh, well, maybe it's better if you see it for yourself. I don't really want to have to think about it right now."

"Let’s just go out there," Kelsey said. She looked toward the ATVs.

"I… maybe I can drive out on one, and you and Deputy Gallant can follow on the other," the detective suggested.

"Let’s go," John said, heading toward the closest ATV.

He hopped on, and Kelsey hopped on behind him, wrapping her arms around his tight torso. Detective Hollis jumped onto the second ATV, started it, and took the lead. John started his and headed off after the detective. It became so loud that Kelsey could not hear anything except for the ruble of the engine and the wind assaulting her ears as they traveled at speed.

Something had rattled the detective. The third victim had been presented in a different way, and it provided a new insight into the killer. Kelsey never wished for more death, but she knew it was one of the most effective ways to find a killer. The more people they killed, the more clues they left behind, and the more likely they were to make a mistake.

Kelsey became more and more curious as she rode on the back of the ATV. She also became more and more aware that she was embracing John. Then she became aware that she might be gripping onto him too tightly, but she didn't want to loosen her grip and alert him to her shifting grip, so she focused on not changing her grip one bit as they raced through the badlands.

She could deal with serial killers and get in their heads, but she couldn’t get into her own head when she thought about John. She wanted to be with him, and she knew he wanted to be with her, but there had been multiple obstacles over the past year.

Maybe they are gone now?

Kelsey still had her sister to think about. She had been good since coming to stay with her, but if she had relapsed because she had left town for a couple of days, then there was a worry there. Though not enough of a worry that it should hold her back. She and John were a long time coming. She didn't want to wait any longer.

The vehicle slowed as they went up a long dirt ramp leading up onto one of the larger mesas, and then they traversed along the top. The mesa was so wide that Kelsey could not see down into any of the valleys. No matter in which diction she looked, the Badlands looked like a flat whitish plain, pocked with red areas and marked with black crooked branching lines that were the edges of the valleys. It always blew her away how much different the Badlands were up on the mesas compared to in the valleys. They were like two different worlds.

They slowed some more when they reached the crime scene. This one was definitely different from the ones they had been at previously. Kelsey could not see the body when she got off the ATV, and that was because of the white tent covering it. It meant that the body was not buried in the side of a butte this time.

She and John walked toward the white tent surrounded by law enforcement personnel, and they were joined promptly by Detective Hollis.

"The, uh, tent wasn’t strictly necessary with the location being so far from any trekking paths, but it was mainly to keep the birds away," the detective said.

"To keep the birds away?" Kelsey asked.

"No civilians have been here, but there was a small group out on the ridge over there." Detective Hollis pointed into the distance. "They didn't know it was a crime scene. They saw the birds swarming around something, and they thought it was the carcass of something big. Maybe a bison that had wandered up here. They called the National Park Service, and a couple of park rangers were sent out to take a look. That is when the body was found surrounded by birds."

"Has it been here a while?" Kelsey asked as they neared the tent.

"We don't think so from initial glance," the detective said. "The birds had some encouragement."

Kelsey was done with the detective speaking in a roundabout way and entered the tent to see the body for herself. She did not know what she expected, but it was not what she found.

The woman was completely undressed, and she was covered in hundreds of small wounds and red gashes where she had been ripped at. Kelsey spotted the birdseed surrounding the body and understood what the detective had been talking about. Kelsey sighed and turned away for a second before turning back to the body.

She looked the woman up and down. The woman looked to be in her forties, perhaps mid-forties, but she wore her age well. Her red hair matched the red of the cuts spread across her body, but one of the cuts stood out more than the others. Across her neck was a curved red line where her throat had been slit. It was a clean cut, in stark contrast to the other wounds where the flesh had been torn.

Kelsey shook her head and pushed out of the tent to find Detective Hollis waiting.

"Do we have an ID on the body yet?" Kelsey asked.

"Not yet, but we are working on it," Detective Hollis replied. "And I have not had forensics in to check the body yet. I wanted to get your take on it before we move anything."

"We can't confirm it's the same killer, but I suspect it is. The body was dumped in the badlands, and it was left here for us to find. The throat has been cut, which is in line with the other two victims, and when forensics is done, I expect them to find a blow to the back of the head."

"What does it mean?" Detective Hollis asked. "Why did he do that to her?"

"I don't know for sure yet, but I have a thought in the back of my mind about burial rites. There are many cultures that leave their dead out to be eaten by birds and other small animals, and then when the bones are picked clean, they return for the bones to bury them. If that’s what happened here, then maybe bones are the link. Maybe the killer wants to expose the bones of his victims, and he did so with the first two, but he let nature take its course with the third. Have you searched the area for her clothes?"

"I have a few men out there doing that now," Detective Hollis said. "They haven’t found anything so far."

"So, he kills her, and presumably somewhere else because I didn't see enough blood spilled here for it to be where her throat was cut, and then he brings her here and leads her to the middle of the Badlands. But before he does, he sprinkles birdseed on and around her body to attract birds to feast on her flesh. What birds are negative to here, Detective? Crows? Ravens?"

"Both," the detective said. "The park rangers had to wave some of them off when they got here. It wasn’t pretty from what they said. I can't imagine seeing that with the birds… well, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about."

"It can't have been a pretty sight," Kelsey agreed.

John exited from the white tent.

"Did you see anything I might have missed?" Kelsey asked.

"She was posed," John said. "I’ve seen a lot of dead bodies in my time. She would have been carried here, seeing as there are no drag marks in the earth. She was placed where she is now, but he took the time to make sure she was resting on her back with her legs together and arms by her side. I don't know if it means anything, but he had a certain respect for her in death."

"Yeah, I noticed that, too," Kelsey said. "No visible abrasions to the body, and I would be surprised if she was abused in any way before or after death. She was undressed, but it was not sexual in nature. He only wanted her to be feasted on by the birds. It’s more unpredictable than his previous kills. He wanted us to find her, but he couldn't have known the state she would be in when she was found. Perhaps it's lucky that she was spotted so quickly. It wouldn’t take long for her bones to be stripped clean, and she would have ended up like the other two." Kelsey unconsciously rubbed her neck. "There's a certain respect. The victims are killed quickly and cleanly. He doesn't desecrate them in the traditional sense, even if we might think that he has desecrated them. Maybe it’s not a respect of the people he kills, but of his process. He doesn't want to desecrate them, or it will tarnish his presentations. He wants us to see the bodies like this."

"He wants fame?" John asked.

"Maybe," Kelsey agreed. "He wants to tell the world something. He wants to prove how clever he is; he’s already suggested that by leaving the map at my motel door. He wants to create a legacy, even if no one ever knows his name. Maybe I'll be wrong, but I get the impression that he wants people to talk about what he has done without them knowing who he is. His legacy will be his work, and people will talk about it, not knowing who is behind it. He can revel in that; sit back and admire the sublation aimed at him without ever facing any consequence. I don't know the endgame. Does he stop at some point, or does he continue on forever or until he's caught?"

"How about we catch him before he can make that choice?" John suggested.

"That sounds good to me," Kelsey said.

"What can I do to help?" Detective Hollis asked.

The most recent murder had really affected him, and he currently wasn’t afraid to show it.

"I want Henry Tate found," Kelsey said. "He’s been invisible for far too long. If he's our killer, he would have had to come back to town to do this, and if he did, then maybe someone saw something. Use your local connections to find out if anyone has seen Henry in the last forty-eight hours. And get me an ID on the woman. I don't think the victims are connected, but if they are, I want to know."

"I’ll get started on burial rites," John said. "The killer has changed how they do things, and that must mean something."

Kelsey nodded in agreement. "Good. I want to be here when forensics looks over the body so you can both head back to the station, and I'll be back there as soon as they are done here. You can even share an ATV if you want."

John and Detective Hollis both looked at each other before they strode off toward different vehicles.

Kelsey took a deep breath and looked around the Badlands. Look in one direction, and the landscape was undisturbed. Look in the other, and there was a dead body that had been partially devoured by crows and ravens. Kelsey stepped away from the white tent, finding some respite in the flat lands. She breathed in, focusing on the landscape ahead and not the landscape behind.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out and saw her sister’s name on the screen.

"Hey, Erica," Kelsey answered. "I was going to call you later today."

"I think they are in the house," Erica whimpered.

"What? Who?" Kelsey demanded. "Erica, where are you?"

"I’m in the closet," Erica replied. "Someone is in the house, Kelsey. They’ve come for me."

"Erica, just stay calm and listen to me. There's a gun in the—"

Kelsey froze when the phone went dead.

CHAPTER TEN

"I’m almost there," Sheriff Anderson said.

Kelsey paced across the stark badlands landscape with the phone pinned to her ear. Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for news of her sister.

"Don't worry about the door or anything," Kelsey said. "As soon as you get there, you don't knock, okay? You go straight in with as much force as you need to and be ready for someone to be inside."

"Don't worry," Sheriff Anderson said. "I have eighty percent of the department with me. We’ll go in strong, and we will make sure she's okay."

Kelsey breathed heavily through her nose as she waited. The sky was exactly the same as it had been when she had gone out there with John, but it felt a lot darker, and the air was much thicker. It was harder to breathe, but she knew she had to. She had to keep breathing to find out what had happened to her sister, and she needed to be ready to move. She would dump the current case and find her sister again if it was the last thing she ever did.

"We’re here," Sheriff Anderson said. "I’m going to keep you updated every step of the way, Hawk. And Hawk?"

"Yeah?" Kelsey answered.

"She’s going to be fine, okay? We are going to make sure she's okay, and I’m sure you have nothing to worry about."

Nothing could have calmed her at that moment, but Sheriff Anderson’s words had more impact than most people’s would have. He had been like a father to her in her time in Winchburgh. Well, since she had become more open to having people helping her and not trying to do everything alone.

Kelsey had tried Erica multiple times after the phone had gone dead, but there was no answer. Sheriff Anderson had been the obvious person to call, and not only because he was the town Sheriff. He was one of the people Kelsey trusted most in the world.

"We are in the building and going up," the sheriff said. "There's no sign of a break-in."

"Go in," Kelsey ordered. "Go in." She held the phone tight to her ear, needing to hear everything. Her hands trembled so much that it was hard to keep a hold of the phone.

 There were a couple of loud crashes and then the sound of the door splintering as it was broken. Shouts followed.

"Erica!" Sheriff Anderson called. "Erica!"

A muffled sound followed.

"What’s going on?" Kelsey demanded. "Is she there? Is she okay?"

"I don't see anyone here," Sheriff Anderson told Kelsey. "Search the place," he ordered his people. "Check the rooms one by one."

"Is she gone?" Kelsey whimpered. "Please don't tell me she's gone again!"

"Wait? What?" Sheriff Anderson shouted to someone in the apartment. "One second!"

"What’s going on, Sheriff?" Kelsey questioned.

"They might have…" the sheriff started. "She’s here."

"Erica?" Kelsey asked. "Erica is there?"

"She was hiding in the closet," Sheriff Anderson said.

"Is anyone else in the apartment?" Kelsey asked.

"We haven’t found anyone. There's no sign of a break-in," the sheriff said.

"Can I talk with her?" Kelsey asked. She felt like someone had just told her that she was dying of an incurable disease, and then they had turned around five minutes later and told her there was a clerical error and she was not dying after all.

"It’s Kelsey," the sheriff said. "She wants to talk with you."

"They were here!" Erica shouted in the background. "I know she doesn’t believe me, but they were here, and they would have got me if… they couldn’t find me in the closet. They came to take me, and they couldn’t find me."

"Tell her I believe her," Kelsey demanded. "I believe you, Erica!" Kelsey shouted.

"Just speak to her," the sheriff asked Erica.

"I can't stay here. I won't. They are coming back," Erica moaned.

"You’re fine now," the sheriff assured. "There’s nothing to worry about anymore."

"I can come back—" Kelsey started.

"No," Sheriff Anderson interrupted. "Stay out there and help them, Hawk. I’ll have Erica come and stay with me while you are gone."

"You don't have to do that," Kelsey said.

"I don't have to do anything." Kelsey could hear that the sheriff was smiling. "I’ll call you as soon as Erica is at my place, and I’m sure she will want to talk to you then. How does that sound?"

"Better than I could have hoped for," Kelsey admitted. "I thought I had lost her again."

"You still have her," the sheriff said.

"Tell her I love her," Kelsey said."

"You go it," Sheriff Anderson said. "And hey, if I’m keeping an eye on your sister, you’ll keep an eye on my deputy for me, won't you? I’m guessing he ain’t too good right now."

"He’s doing okay," Kelsey assured. "I will keep an eye on him for you."

"Okay." Kelsey hung up and took a deep breath. She didn't know what to believe. She wanted to believe Erica, and from the fear in her sister’s voice, the danger felt very real. Yet, there was no sign of anyone or forced entry when the Sheriff got there. For now, Kelsey was only glad that her sister was safe.

She took another deep breath before heading back to the white tent. The forensic team was inside when she pushed the flap open.

"Anything you can tell me?" Kelsey asked, needing a distraction from what was going on back in Winchburgh.

"She suffered a blow to the back of the head, but that is all that we have found so far," the forensic officer replied. "We are pretty sure that the body has been cleaned before being brought up here. There’s earth on her back but nothing on the rest of her. She might have been wrapped when she was brought up here and then unwrapped before being left out here."

"The seeds?" Kelsey asked, hoping for something else. "Are they specialized seeds that can only be bought in certain stores?"

"Looks like millet," an officer said. "Looks like the same stuff that I put in the bird feeder in the winter. Still, we’ll look into it."

"And her clothes"Kelsey asked. "Have you found them?"

"We’re still searching the area, but we haven’t found anything in the vicinity except the body. Do you want us to keep looking?" the officer asked.

"Please," Kelsey said. "At the moment, we don't have a lot more to go on."

***

Kelsey had not felt very hopeful when leaving the crime scene to head back into town, but she had hope as she walked into the police station. There was always the chance that a new lead had been uncovered, and they could do some actual police work instead of waiting around for something to happen.

She passed by Detective Hollis’ office first.

"Any leads on Henry Tate?" she asked.

Detective Hollis grimaced and shook his head. "As soon as I get something, you will be the first to know."

"Thank you," Kelsey said.

She was zero for one and hoped to go one for two after talking with John. He was situated in the main offices, electing to use someone else’s desk while most of the officers were at the crime scene. It was better than the small office she and John were usually holed up in.

"Do we have anything?" Kelsey asked.

"Maybe," John replied. "I’ve been looking into burial rites, especially anything connected to crows and ravens, and I keep coming back to Celtic excarnation."

Kelsey had been told it was infinity coffee, because no-one ever emptied the pot, let alone cleaned it out. They simply made a fresh batch by adding more water and coffee to the remains of the last one, resulting in a brew of great strength and dubious flavor.

Kelsey poured herself a cup and headed for the desk beside John’s. "What is Celtic excoriation?"

"It’s often referred to as defleshing or a sky burial. There are a lot of cultures that practice it, not just the Celts, and when I talk about this, mostly this is a past practice, but there are still some places in the world where it's still practiced. It’s considered a natural process to cleanse the bones, and while it might seem barbaric nowadays, there's something beautiful about it."

"And you think this is what happened to the current victim? She was given a sky burial?" Kelsey asked.

"It matches in a lot of ways. In a traditional sky burial, the body is left out in the elements, and nature takes its course, but the killer wanted it sped up after he killed her. Maybe he was worried about the body being discovered before the… process could begin."

"I think you are right about that," Kelsey agreed. "He showcases the bodies for us, using the birds to get them into the state he wants us to see them in. He could have tucked them away somewhere, but then we might not find them, and if he didn’t expedite the process with the birds, he wouldn’t get the effect he wanted. It’s not ritualistic. He’s not putting them somewhere secret, as if there’s a mystery surrounding them, or they’re transitioning from life to afterlife. It’s about putting on a show. He cares about our reaction."

"So, it doesn't matter that the first two were like archeological sites and the third was a sky burial?" John asked.

"Why do you ask?" Kelsey detected something in John’s tone.

"There’s a lot of information about sky burials out there, but not a lot of solid research. Half of these websites seem to be cutting and pasting their material from the other half. But I guess that’s true of the whole internet.’

‘Is this a long-winded way of telling me you haven’t found anything?’

‘No. I mean – yes. I think we need to get in touch with an expert, someone who can tell us whether what we’re seeing out there in the Badlands is typical of sky burials or not. Maybe it’s only typical of the stuff that’s cut-and-pasted all over the internet, but she’d be able to tell us that, wouldn’t she?’

‘She?’

‘I’ve found one. An expert. Clarissa Blythe. Shas a doctorate in burial rites, and she recently returned from a trip to Scotland where she was studying places of interest. Can you guess what those places were used for in the past?"

"The Celtic sky burials?" Kelsey replied.

"Exactly," John said. "What are the chances that we find a body that has been given  a sky burial, and we have an expert on sky burials in town?"

"I'll admit that it's a coincidence and a coincidence that we should follow up on. Do you have an address?"

"She’s not far from here. We can go and talk to her now."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

John knocked on the door, and he and Kelsey waited. Thirty seconds later, the door was answered by an elegant woman with a blonde bob. Kelsey immediately took stock of her: she looked to be in her early forties and had a piercing intelligence in her eyes, but by the piece of grass in her hair and the small spot on the front of her blouse where she had obviously spilled something, Kelsey guessed that the woman had a ditzy streak, too.

"Clarissa Blythe?" John asked.

"Yes," the woman replied.

John took out his badge, and Kelsey did the same. "I’m Deputy Gallant, and this is Special Agent Hawk. Would you mind if we came in and asked you a few questions?"

"Um?" Clarissa looked to her right toward the living room, going by what Kelsey had seen through the front window when approaching the house. "Um, maybe now is not the best time. Do you mind if I come down to the police station later, and I can answer any questions you have?"

"We’d rather do this now," John said.

"I’m awfully busy," Clarissa said.

"Miss Blythe," Kelsey said. "This is important. We need to speak to you now, and if you refuse to talk with us, then we can make this a bigger problem for you. Do you have something you need to hide from us?"

"No, no, no, of course not." Clarissa glanced toward the living room again.

"Then you won't mind if we come in," Kelsey said, moving forward.

"Yes, of course. Come in," Clarissa said hurriedly. She quickly moved from the door to let them in and hurried toward the living room.

Kelsey followed swiftly, wanting to see what Clarissa had to hide. She got to the living room just in time to see Clarissa pushing something behind the couch with her foot.

"Ah, yes, come in," Clarissa said on seeing Kelsey. "Sorry, this place is a mess. Can I get you something to drink or eat?"

"We are fine," Kelsey said. They had come to ask Clarissa some questions about sky burials, but there was more to discover in the house, and Kelsey really wanted to see what was behind the couch.

"Please, take a seat," Clarissa said, gesturing toward the two armchairs.

"Thank you," Kelsey replied, approaching the sofa instead.

Clarissa held her ground, blocking Kelsey’s view as to what had been hidden. Kelsey sat on the couch and looked up at Clarissa.

"Is there anything you need to tell us?" Kelsey asked.

"Tell you? Gosh, no," Clarissa said. "What would I need to tell you?"

"Nothing you want to get off your chest?" Kelsey asked.

"No. I thought you were the ones who had come to talk to me." Clarissa stepped away from the sofa and walked over to one of the armchairs to sit, staring at Kelsey the entire time.

John took a seat beside Kelsey on the sofa, and that seemed to make Clarissa more uncomfortable.

"We’d like to talk to you about sky burials," John said.

"Sky burials?" Clarissa asked. "Why do you—yes, of course. Yes, that is one of my specialties."

"You recently returned from a trip to Scotland, didn't you?" John asked.

"Yes, I did." Clarissa smiled a toothy grin as she became more comfortable with Kelsey and John. "Yes, I had a wonderful trip over there, and I learned so much about the Celtic culture. Have you been?"

"I have not," John said.

Kelsey loved to work with John as they worked so well together. He had an innate sense of what Kelsey was thinking and what she needed support with. On entering the house, Kelsey had tried to see what was being hidden by Clarissa, and now that Clarissa was suspicious of their arrival, John was doing his best to put her at ease.

"It's beautiful over there," Clarissa said.

"I am sure it is," John replied. "Do you mind if we ask you a few questions about sky burials?"

Clarissa held her hand out, palm up. "Please, go ahead. I could talk about this stuff all day."

"Could you give us a brief description of what a sky burial would look like?" John asked. "I guess the first question would be: could you perform a sky burial in the badlands?"

"Oh, yes," Clarissa said. "You can perform one anywhere. I mean, as long as you have an elevated place for the body and there are animals around that will clean the bones for you. It’s a very simple process and very hygienic. I like to think that the human body gives back to nature and nourishes it when a sky burial is performed."

"It’s not really performed anymore, is it?" Kelsey asked.

"No, not as much," Clarissa admitted. "As we have grown as societies, we don't like to be reminded of death, so having a body out in the open is not appropriate much of the time. It can be very disconcerting for people to see that, especially when nature takes hold. Nature is beautiful, but it can be brutal, too. Although, the Zoroastrians from Iran and the Parsees from India still practice sky burial, leaving their dead on top of stone edifices they call ‘Towers of Silence."

Kelsey took a moment to digest the information before asking, "If you were performing a sky burial in the Badlands, could you take us through how you would do it?"

"Well, I suppose I would find an elevated place. There are hoodoos, of course, and the stones atop them would provide a perfect place to place the body, but then you have the challenge of getting the body up there. I suppose with modern technology and machinery, you could airlift it up there or use a crane."

Clarissa Blythe spoke about death with a lot of ease, and while that raised a small red flag in Kelsey’s mind, it also fascinated her.

"You want natural exposure to the sky, which is not often a problem in the Badlands. In the badlands, there are birds that will feast on the body, so you can place the body on a secluded hoodoo without worrying about other animals having access to it."

"You talk very easily about this as if you have thought about a sky burial in the Badlands," Kelsey said.

"Oh, I have,"  Clarissa admitted. "I am fascinated with them, and almost every place I go, I think about how I would perform a sky burial. Or another burial ritual. Sky burials are beautiful, but they are not the only beautiful way to take a body into the next world."

"How about cleaning the body?" Kelsey asked. "Would you clean the body before leaving it in the Badlands?"

"Why are you asking about this?" Clarissa asked. "If this is connected to a case, then does that mean that someone…?"

John looked at Kelsey, and Kelsey made the decisions.

"A body has been found, and we believe it might have been a sky burial," Kelsey said. "We wanted to consult with an expert about the process. I can't give you much more information than that."

Clarissa looked troubled for a moment at hearing about a death being investigated, but her expression quickly chained and she went back to talking about sky burials.

"No, you wouldn't need to clean the body," Clarissa said. "Animals don't worry about dirt on the body."

"So, if the body was cleaned, it as to remove traces of DNA," Kelsey thought out loud.

"No, not necessarily," Clarissa said. "Bodies are often cleaned, but not always to remove dirt. It can be spiritual or ritualistic to clean the body, a way to cleanse the soul before it passes to the next life."

"What is the purpose of a sky burial?" John asked.

"It's a part of the cycle of life," Clarissa replied. Once more, she glanced at the couch, almost looking through John and Kelsey. "The process returns the body to nature just as it came from nature. Everything is connected. In the past, and still today, birds are often considered as intermediaries between this life and the next. The consumption of flesh is not only to clean the bones and dispose of human remains in a humane and sanitary way but to take the spirit into the afterlife."

"Do you believe that?" Kelsey asked.

Clarissa smiled. "I have thought about it a lot. I don't know if I believe that or not, but I think it's nice. I don't know what happens to me after I die, but there's something wonderful about being carried into the next life on the wings of a bird. Carried by carrion."

She lost her smile when John and Kelsey did not respond to her comment.

"Sorry, that was only a little joke. I should not have said anything."

"Don't worry about it," John said.

Clarissa smiled again and nodded. She glanced once more toward the back of the sofa for a split second, but she didn't look as worried as she had when they first entered. Kelsey was appreciative of John putting Clarissa at ease because Kelsey was not leaving the house before she found out what was behind the sofa and why Clarissa was so nervous about it.

"What happens when the bones are picked clean?" Kelsey asked. "Would the skeleton typically be moved after it had been picked clean?"

"Yes, it would," Clarissa replied. She became more confident the more she spoke, and any dizziness was replaced by elegance. She spoke and held herself well. "There might be a tomb or a chamber where the body would be moved. In families or tribes, the bones might be placed all in the same tomb. Bones were buried in ‘barrows’ in northern Europe—earth and turf burial chambers—they went directly into graves in the Near East."

"Could they be buried in the ground?" John asked.

"Yes, they could," Clarissa replied. "Not everyone could afford a tomb or chambers or other such things, so yes, the bones could be buried."

"Would the bones ever be exposed as a part of the burial process?" John asked.

"No, there would be no point to that. The purpose was to honor the dead and take the bones once the spirit had been transported. It would no longer be bound to the physical form, but to not bury the bones properly would be to desecrate the soul and memory of the person."

"Miss Blythe, you mentioned when we first came in that sky burials were only one of your specialties. What are the others?" Kelsey asked.

"Well, I have a doctorate in burial rites, and I also studied archaeology, gaining a degree with honors, but that was a long time ago."

"What sort of archeology?" Kelsey asked.

"Oh, anything to do with burials," Clarissa said as if it were obvious. "I have just applied for a grant to be part of the team that is going to Egypt, and we will start a new archeological dig in the hopes of finding old burial pits. When most people think about Egypt and death, they immediately think about the pyramids and Pharaohs and pulling brains out of people’s noses and embalming. Yet, what happened to the hundreds of thousands of other people? Where were they buried, and what burial rites were they afforded? There are speculated to be great bone pits, and it will be a trove of information?"

John jumped on that. "You are interested in bones?"

"Yes," Clarissa gasped. "I mean, not in any sort of weird way, but they can tell us so much about life. It might sound like a cliche, but death can tell us so much about life."

"Is that what is in the box behind your sofa?" Kelsey asked, making a guess that she hoped caught Clarissa off guard. "Bones?"

"What?" Clarissa said, the worry coming back to her voice. She shook her head and wrung her hands together. "What? I don’t…"

"Every time you have said the word ‘bones,’ you have glanced toward the box behind the sofa, the one you pushed behind there when we first entered."

"I don't know what you are suggesting, but… but, but, but, don't you need a warrant if you want to search my house?"

"I’m not asking to search your house," Kelsey said. "And you are right about a warrant. If you don't want us to look through your house, you have the right to tell us that, but we can also come back with a warrant if you want to hide something from us."

"No, I don't have anything to hide from you," Clarissa said. "It’s not like that."

"It’s not like what?" Kelsey asked.

"It’s not what you think," Clarissa clarified.

"Well, that depends on what I think," Kelsey said. "At the moment, I am thinking that you have something that you really want to hide from us. I am also thinking that we have two crime scenes that you would be very interested in seeing and more than capable of putting together. There are three people dead, and I don't have time to play around. So, I am not leaving here without taking a look at what is in the box, Clarissa."

Kelsey looked at John, and he nodded back at her. He would back her in what she wanted to do, and they would deal with the consequences later.

"How about you remain in your chair, and we will decide what happens to you next,"  John suggested.

"I… maybe I should just… if you just give me a second, I can explain everything to you."

"You could have done that as soon as we entered," Kelsey said. "It’s too late for that now."

Kelsey got up from the sofa, and John joined her. He looked at Clarissa before going behind the couch and pulling out the cardboard box. There was tape on the top, and John peeled it back slowly. He pulled the top of the box open, and then the second flaps underneath. There was a scrunched-up layer of packing paper. John reached down, took a second, and then lifted the paper up. Underneath was a small pile of bones.

Human bones, by the look of them.

CHAPTER TWELVE

"I just got a call," Detective Hollis said. "Henry Tate is at the bar."

"What?" Kelsey replied. She furrowed her brows and tried to be sure that she had heard him correctly. "He’s at the bar? The one bar in town? Henry Tate is there?"

"I just got the call," the detective repeated. "I put the word out, just to a few people I trusted to keep an eye and an ear out, especially where people might talk, such as the bar, and I just got a call from the owner who said that Henry Tate just walked in."

"What’s he doing in there?" Kelsey asked.

"Having a drink," Detective Hollis replied. "I don't have anyone down there, but I can send a patrol car down there to pick him up."

"No, we’ll go," Kelsey said. "What is he doing back in town, wandering into the bar for a drink? It doesn't make sense, does it?"

"Nothing about this makes any sense," the detective said.

"Does that mean he's not connected to the murders?" Kelsey wondered. "Or is this one of his games? Does he want us to think that he's not involved when he really is?"

"I don't know if you are asking me or using me as a sounding board," the detective said.

"He’s comfortable enough to walk into the bar and have a drink after being gone for almost four days. I want to talk to him there. I want to see how comfortable he really is."

"What about Clarissa Blythe?" Detective Hollis asked.

"Keep her in a cell for now," Kelsey said. "They are still searching her house, right?"

"Yeah, they are," Detective Hollis replied.

"And the bones have been sent to the lab, but that will take some time for the analysis."

"I still can’t believe she had a box of bones in her living room," Detective Hollis said. "I mean, if they were hidden away in a closet, I might understand that, but to have them where they could be seen."

"The killer is confident," Kelsey said. "They are playing games with us, and they might see themselves as invincible. They might not have expected us to turn up at their home. I'll agree that it seems off to have something like that out in the open, but it’s not completely crazy. Not in the killer’s mind. Still, we know the bones are not from the first three victims as all their bones are accounted for."

"So, there might be more victims?" Detective Hollis asked.

"Clarissa Blythe didn't have much to say about them once we found them. She claims she bought them online, but she didn't have any proof of that. We don't know at the moment where they came from."

"Okay," the detective said. "I’ll hold the fort here, and you can find out what is up with Henry Tate."

Kelsey nodded. "Hey, John! You want to take a little field trip and bring in Henry Tate?"

John smiled as he got up from his chair.

***

Kelsey and John approached the front door of the bar. Kelsey half-expected Henry to be gone when they walked in, and they would never see him again, but when John opened the door, Kelsey spotted him immediately.

She studied him as they entered. He looked at ease, but he still did not look like a confident man. If anything, he looked smaller and more wiry than he had when Kelsey had last seen him. He sat at a table by himself with half a pint of beer, and he stared down into his glass.

"Beer and burgers?" the server asked as Kelsey and John entered.

John shook his head as they passed the bar. John looked at Kelsey with the same confusion she’d had when Detective Hollis had told her of Henry’s return. They both made their way slowly toward Henry’s table, expecting him to run when he spotted them.

When they made it to the table, Henry Tate looked up at them, and after a second of him staring, he raised his eyebrows.

"Do you mind if we sit?" Kelsey asked

"I don't mind," Henry said. He went back to staring into his beer.

"Where have you been, Henry?" Kelsey asked.

"What?"

"Henry, you left town when you were part of a murder investigation and were gone for four days without anyone being able to reach you. I expect that you have a good reason for that?"

"Detective Hollis didn't tell me that I had to stay in town when he released me," Henry claimed. "My alibi checked out, and he told me I was free to go. I don't think I have done anything wrong."

"We need to take another look at your alibi, Henry," Kelsey said. "Your card was swiped in and out of the events, but we haven’t been able to get in contact with any of the employees at the convention who remember you being there."

"Well, I was there," Henry claimed. "It’s not my fault if you or your detective can't do detective work, is it?"

"Alright," John said, placing his hands on the table. "We have multiple murders, so we are not in the mood for jokes. Do you have someone we can talk to who was at the convention and would have spoken to you face to face?"

"Of course," Henry replied. "I can give you two dozen names of peers. I had many long discussions with my people about the art of taxidermy. Are you insinuating that I am lying about where I was?"

"Innocent until proven guilty," John admitted. "But we need to be sure you are innocent. Why did you leave town, Henry?"

"A friend of mine passed away," Henry said.

"A friend?" Kelsey asked. "That’s interesting because we called all of your family and friends, and no one knew where you were."

"You called all of my friends?" Henry asked. "Is there a list published somewhere of all of my friends?"

Kelsey was beginning to get annoyed with Henry and his answers. "Henry, don't mess us around. Three people are dead, and you still don't have an alibi. You like making squirrel dioramas, don't you?"

"I do," Henry replied.

"Did you send me out into the Badlands to find one of your creations?" Kelsey asked.

"What? I don't know what you are talking about."

"Henry, you don't have an alibi for any of the murders," John hissed, trying to keep his voice down in the pub. "So, please do us the favor of convincing us that you are innocent of all of this, or your life is about to become very difficult."

"I already told you that I was at the conference," Henry said. He shook his head and took a large swig of his beer. "I can write down a dozen names for you, and you can call them all for all I care. I left town to go to the funeral of a friend, and I don't have a list of friends published anywhere, so I don't believe you called all of my friends, but let’s pretend that you have. You won't find this guy on my list of friends. Not that there's a list. He was a taxidermist in the state, and he was one of the best if you must know. I only spoke to him a couple of times on the phone, and he was very helpful to me when I had one problem with a particular mangled cat. I thought I should go to his funeral when I heard about his passing so I could pay my respects. Taxidermists are a dying breed, and I know what the taxidermy life is like. I knew there would be very few people at his funeral, and that saddened me. I also wanted to visit his house and see his work before it was destroyed. It was very professional if you want to know."

"That is all well and good," John replied, "but that still doesn't give you an alibi, and you turned your phone off. You didn't tell anyone where you were going."

"No one needed to know where I was going. It was a private matter, and if you must know, I didn't want to be disturbed or talk to anyone while I was out of town. I turned my phone off because I didn't want to be bothered by anyone."

"And an alibi?" Kelsey asked.

"I can't give you a dozen names, but there must have been at least a dozen people I spoke to. His name is Arthur Bradley, and I am sure you can look up the funeral details and call around. I had a wonderful conversation with his sister, Brenda, at the reception. I'll also give you the name of the motel I stayed in, and I am sure if you talk to them, they will remember me. The pillows there were abysmal, and I had to ask to switch them at least three times. Now, if we are done here, I would like to finish my drink and continue grieving."

"We can't do that right now," Kelsey said. "Let’s say for a second that I do believe your story, and I am leaning toward believing it; we can’t leave here without you. Perhaps Detective Hollis was not thorough enough when checking out your alibi, and I'll take some responsibility for that, but we have to take you into custody while we check things out. I know you can appreciate how serious this matter is."

"And if I refuse?" Henry asked.

"I would rather we didn’t go down that avenue," Kelsey said. "There's already some tension in this town, and I would rather we walk out of here together instead of the patrons of the bar having something to talk about and spreading confusion. If you walk out of here with us, you make things better for the whole town. Then, if your alibis check out, you walk out of the police station. What do you say, Henry? Do you want to do some grieving down at the station?"

"Or we cuff you and haul you out of here," John said. "Either way, we will need you to come with us."

Henry sighed. "Just let me pay my bill, and I'll walk out of here with you."

"Thank you," Kelsey said. "We appreciate you doing this."

"Well, I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Henry said.

***

Kelsey escorted Henry to the free holding cell beside the one Clarissa Blythe was currently being held in. They had not handcuffed Henry on the way to the station, and he had not been handcuffed to be put in his cell either. The same was true of Clarissa Blythe.

Kelsey got the same feeling from the two of them. They were both unassuming suspects, but they had some eccentricities, and below that eccentricity was intelligence. They also had a quietness about them. Kelsey had spoken with both of them and when they got going about something they were passionate about, they talked animatedly and with vigor. As they both sat in their holding cells, they were quiet but also unbothered. It was as if they both expected to be locked up in a police cell and had made their peace with it.

Kelsey left the two of them and walked back through into the main office area.

"Alright, listen up, everyone," Kelsey announced. "I want people on phones. I want to know everyone who talked to Henry Tate at the taxidermy convention and Arthur Bradley’s funeral. We either rule him out of our investigations or catch him lying. Report everything back to me as it comes through. I want to know his exact movements over the past week. Got it?"

There were nods and murmurs of agreement.

"I believe he's innocent," Detective Hollis said from the other side of the room.

Kelsey looked over and could read the look on the detective’s face. He had some information that was about to change the entire direction of the case.

"We found Linda Carter’s clothes," Detective Hollis announced. "The clothes we believe she was wearing when she was killed. The clothes that were taken from her and kept as a trophy."

Kelsey had a hunch about where he was going with his dramatic monologue, but she let the detective have his moment in the sun.

"Linda Carter’s clothing was found hanging in the closet of Clarissa Blythe," Detective Hollis finished.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Kelsey finished her coffee and looked through the information that had been gathered since Detective Hollis’ revelation. She looked up at John.

"So, we are ready to go in?" Kelsey asked.

"I think we are. We are still waiting on the official autopsy report, but I don't know if it gives us anything we don't already know. If that changes, we can speak with her a second time, but what we have is prettying damning. Let’s see what she has to say."

Kelsey noted and took a bite of her sub before placing it back in the wrapper and wrapping the rest of it up. She got up and grabbed her stack of notes. Then, she and John headed to the interview room to talk with Clarissa Blythe.

John opened the door, and Kelsey entered first. She took a moment to study Clarissa. Kelsey liked to study her suspects in different environments. It helped to piece together how they were feeling and what they were trying to hide.

Clarissa looked over at John and Kelsey with wide eyes, and there was a tiredness in her look, even though she had only been in the holding cell for a few hours. She reminded Kelsey of a small puppy that was looking for attention. Still, puppies could make mistakes and do naughty things.

Kelsey took her time to sit down, and John followed her lead as he was so good at doing. He knew Kelsey understood the nuance of dealing with people and getting what she needed out of them, and he was happy to follow where he was led when it mostly meant getting results.

Kelsey knew that Clarissa liked to talk when she knew what she was talking about, and the more she spoke, the more confident she got. Kelsey didn't want the suspect to be confident. She wanted Clarissa to become more nervous as she waited in anticipation. The more nervous she was, the more likely she would slip up and give Kelsey what she needed.

"We won’t be a moment," Kelsey said as she organized her notes before her. She was ready to go as soon as she entered the room, but she wanted Clarissa to sweat a little. Kelsey finally looked up at Clarissa and smiled. "How about we start with the bones?"

"I already told you that—"

Kelsey held up her hand to silence Clarissa. "Here’s what we have. You told us that you bought the bones online and had them shipped to your home."

"I still can't believe that is legal," John said. "You can go online and buy human remains. I mean, what kind of person does something like that."

"I love bones," Clarissa said softly.

"You love bones," Kelsey repeated. "Now, we checked your laptop, and we found a Bitcoin transaction from the date you gave to us. We followed up with the seller, and after some coercion, we were able to get from them that they had sold the bones to you. Now, why do you suppose that it took some coercing to get them to admit to selling you the bones when it's legal to do so? And why did you use Bitcoin and not a regular transaction?"

"Because I didn't buy them legally," Clarissa muttered.

"No, you didn’t, did you," Kelsey said. "There are places where you can buy bones, human bones, legally, but you didn't buy them through a legal source. You went onto a marketplace where people can buy all manner of illegal things, and you purchased bones that were illegal to purchase. Can you explain to us why you did not purchase human bones legally? Even as this is coming out of my mouth, I still can't believe that human bones can be bought at all."

"I tried," Clarissa claimed. "I couldn't find the bones I wanted. I needed some leg bones for a burial piece I was putting together, and they needed to be a certain size so I could see how they would be wrapped I have always wanted to start a bone collection, and I thought this would be a good way, and I would have bought them legally if I could have found them, and of course, I'll do that when I purchase more bones and—"

"The bones you wanted were out of stock?" John asked.

"I… yes, I suppose you could put it like that."

"Still, no matter how we look at it, we have you buying illegal goods online, and that means you have committed a crime. That’s why you tried to hide them from us when we entered your home, isn’t it?" Kelsey asked.

"I… yes. Yes, I tried to hide them, and I should have just come clean at the time, but it would mean losing out on the grant. Do you really think they would let me go to Egypt once they found out what I had done? This is an opportunity of a lifetime, and now, it's ruined."

"You ruined it for yourself," John said.

"I know," Clarissa moaned. She put her head in her hands and shook it. "I’m so stupid. I knew I shouldn't have done it, but I was so excited about the trip and the possibility of discovering something new, and I wanted to submit a research paper in the next year, and—"

"Alright," Kelsey said, holding up a hand. "I get why you bought the bones. We have to look at the facts here, and the fact is that you bought the bones illegally and tried to hide them from a federal agent. I’m willing to work with you, Clarissa if you come clean about everything else."

"Everything else?" Clarissa asked. She furrowed her brow and looked to the side as her mind scrambled to locate any other wrongdoings. "I want to be honest with you, and I'll cooperate in any way I can, but I need to go on that trip. Please don't take that from me. I can send the bones back, or you can confiscate them. I don't care what happens to them, but this is my future."

"It is your future," Kelsey repeated. "Take a breath for me, Clarissa."

Clarissa did as she was told and then fanned her fingers at her eyes. "I’ve messed up; I know I have. Please, I'll do whatever it takes."

Kelsey took a moment before she took the photograph of Linda Carter from her stack of notes and pushed it across the table to Clarissa.

"Do you know this woman?" Kelsey asked.

Clarissa picked up the photo and studied it. She shook her head. "No, I don't know her."

"You are sure?" Kelsey asked. "Why don't you take another look."

Clarissa looked nervous, but she was completely compliant. She picked up the photo, studied it for twenty seconds, and then placed it back down again. She shook her head a second time."No, sorry; I don't know her."

"Linda Carter was murdered," Kelsey continued. "She was killed, and her body was left in the badlands to be eaten by birds."

Clarissa’s eyes widened. "A sky burial? Do you have any photographs of it?"

John glared over at Clarissa, and she got the message that it was not the right time to be asking that sort of question. Still, Kelsey studied Clarissa, measuring her responses to each question. Clarissa had given herself away when they had come to her home, and she had tried to hide the bones, and that had led to the bones being found. She gave nothing away in the interview room.

Is this all part of your master plan? Did you feign the nervousness before to throw us off now, or are you truly oblivious to why you are in this room with us?

Kelsey took a second photograph from the stack of notes and slid it over to Clarissa. "Do you recognize these clothes?"

Clarissa looked at the clothing: a long, flowing black skirt, a red blouse, and a charcoal jacket with buttons on one lapel.

Clarissa took her time again, studying the clothing for a full thirty seconds before putting the photograph back on the table. "No, I don't recognize the clothes."

Kelsey took more photographs from the stack of notes, most of which had been brought to intimidate the suspect and did not contain any material related to the file. Kelsey spread the images out before Clarissa.

"These were taken from social media," Kelsey explained. "We don't have the results back yet, but we are confident that there will be traces of Linda Carter’s DNA. There are small flecks of paint on the garments. You can see images of what might be her wearing the skirt and blouse, but the clothes are plain and hard to match to the photos. The jacket, however, is unique. The buttons have been placed after the jacket was purchased. We can clearly see Miss Carter wearing the jacket in multiple images taken from her social media accounts."

"Yes," Clarissa agreed, not yet knowing where the line of questioning was going.

"We believe these were the clothes Linda Carter was wearing when she was murdered," John explained. "Even if they were not what she was wearing at the time of her death, we know the clothes belong to her."

"At least the jacket," Kelsey added, "but it's a good assumption that they were all her clothes."

Clarissa shook her head again. "I am following all of this, but I am not sure how it connects to me. Yes, I bought some bones, but they were not her bones."

"No, they were not," Kelsey agreed. She took another moment before she dropped the bombshell. "These clothes were found in your closet, Clarissa."

Clarissa had to take a beat before the information sunk in. Her mouth dropped open and then snapped shut before she spoke. "No, no, no. No, that’s not possible! They can’t have been in my closet."

Clarissa jumped up from her chair, and John shifted to the side a little, ready to also jump up and subdue her if needed.

"Please sit down," Kelsey ordered.

Clarissa shook her head and then placed both hands on it. "No, you think I killed her. Someone placed them there. They can't have been found in my closet."

"Clarissa, please sit down," Kelsey said calmly.

Clarissa turned to the left, then the right. Finally, she slumped back down into her chair. "No! I bought the bones, I'll admit to that, but I didn't kill anyone. I would never do that."

"Then help us understand how the clothes of a woman who was recently murdered and given a sky burial were found in the home of a woman who has intimate knowledge of sky burials?" Kelsey asked.

"I already told you. I don't know," Clarissa said. "Those clothes can’t have been in my closet. It’s not possible. I don't know that woman, and I didn't kill anyone. Someone must have broken into my house and placed it there."

"Someone broke into your house and hid her clothes in your closet to frame you for her murder?" John asked.

"Yes," Clarissa replied. "That must be it. I don’t know who would have done it, but someone must have. You have to find whoever did this to me." Clarissa suddenly lunged across the table and grabbed Kelsey’s hand. "Please, you have to help me."

Kelsey yanked her hand back and stared at the woman across the table from her. She looked for a crack in the woman’s armor, something to use to get to the truth, but there were no cracks. There was no armor. Clarissa’s reaction to the entire affair felt very real.

There was a knock at the door, and when Kelsey looked over, she saw Detective Hollis poke his head in. Kelsey raised her hand to ask for a moment more with the suspect. Kelsey could read him well and knew he had information on the case.

"We will suspend this interview for now," Kelsey said. "Miss Blythe, do you require a lawyer?"

"What? No! Of course not! I just got back from Scotland, but that is not the only trip I have been on. I have been in and out of town, traveling all over the state and to other states on research trips. I wouldn’t have had time to kill anyone. And if you just let me see the pictures of the sky burial, maybe I can help with the case."

"You won't be helping with the case," Kelsey said. "You are a suspect in this case until we are convinced otherwise. Give us an alibi for Linda Carter’s death, and you will be on your way to doing that, but her clothing was found in your closet, and you have no way to explain that."

"I’ll figure it out," Clarissa said. "You have to believe me. There must have been something. Someone must have been in my house. I can write down the names of everyone who has been in my house over the last week, and you can talk to all of them. One of them must have done it."

"Start with your whereabouts," Kelsey said. "Convince me that you have an alibi, and we can go from there."

"Yes," Clarissa stated. "Okay, good. Yes, I'll get right on that."

Kelsey looked at the suspect one more time before she and John left the room. Detective Hollis was waiting for them outside.

"Did she confess to it?" the detective asked.

"No," Kelsey replied. She could have said ‘not yet,’ but she said ‘no.’

"She will," the detective replied. "She kept the victim’s clothing. We need this. The town is getting restless."

"You have something?" Kelsey asked hopefully.

"The coroner called," Detective Hollis replied. "They finished the autopsy, and they have something that will help our investigation. Hopefully, something that confirms Clarissa Blythe is our killer."

"Let’s go," Kelsey ordered.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Hey, Sheriff?" Kelsey answered.

She sat in the back seat of John’s truck, letting Detective Hollis sit in the front only to not add to his frustrations. The townspeople were beginning to ask questions, and it was weighing on him, and there had still not been an arrest. Kelsey had seniority, and she could have taken the front passenger seat, but she let the detective take it instead.

"Kelsey, how are things over there?"

"They are going," Kelsey replied. "We have a new lead to follow up on and some old leads to double-check. I don't know how close we are to making an arrest."

"Well, just keep doing what you are doing, and I know you will get your guy."

"Thanks, Sheriff," Kelsey said. "Is Erica there? Can I speak with her?"

"She doesn't want to speak with you at the moment," the Sheriff said.

"What?" Kelsey shifted uncomfortably in the back of the truck. "Please, just put her on the phone."

"Hawk, she's doing fine, but she’s embarrassed. She knows you believe her about what happened, but she doesn't know if she believes it anymore. She’s starting to worry that she’s relapsing, and I think she's worried that she will have to go back to the facility and spend some time there."

"I would never send her back there," Kelsey claimed.

"I know you wouldn’t, and I wouldn’t do that either." Sheriff Anderson took a breath. "Erica knows you are the smartest person in the room at all times. Heck, we all know that, Hawk. She believes that you believe her about what she's saying, but she’s worried that if she's hallucinating or her mind is playing tricks on her, you will be the one to see through her, and you will decide on the best course of action, which is—"

"Getting professional help," Kelsey finished. "Yes, most of the time, I would recommend that for anyone else, but I know what she has been through, and I know how damaging that would be for her. I truly believe that the best thing for Erica is to live with me. She’s better when I am around, and it hurts to be away from her. Maybe I—"

"No," Sheriff Anderson said, interrupting her before she said it. "If you will make this work, you need to be able to make it work. There are things in this world that are important, and we all know how important Erica is to you, but there's a killer out there, and if you leave, you pay into their hands. I firmly believe that a killer will be caught by our agencies eventually, but I also know that when you are involved, there's less death."

Kelsey sighed and then took a deep breath in. Buildings and people flew by as John drove to the coroner’s office. The small town looked much the same as Winchburgh, and the people were much the same, too. They were good people who did not deserve what was happening to them, and they were scared. Kelsey wanted to be around to remove that fear so they could get on with their regular lives.

"Is she doing okay?" Kelsey asked.

"She feels safe here," Sheriff Anderson said. "She can stay with us until you get back, Hawk. I don't think she will relapse if she's around people she trusts, and she trusts me."

"We all trust you, Sheriff," Kelsey said.

"That means a lot."

The truck slowed and came to a halt.

"Sheriff, I should go," Kelsey said. "We are at the coroner’s office, and they might have information that will drive the case forward."

"Good. Work the case, Hawk, and we all look forward to you and John’s return. I’ll talk with you again soon."

"Okay, bye," Kelsey said.

She got out of the truck to find John staring at her.

"How is she doing?" he asked.

Kelsey nodded a couple of times. "She’s fine now that she's with Sheriff Anderson. Come on, let’s go and see what we are dealing with now."

John nodded and led the way into the medical building. Detective Hollis also glanced at Kelsey, and he looked uncomfortable to be part of any situation involving any sort of emotion. Kelsey followed John into the building, with Detective Hollis following after.

The coroner, Arthur Silas, was waiting for them inside.

"You have something for us?" John asked.

"I do," the coroner replied. "The cause of death matches the first two murders, even if the aftermath of the death does not. The victim suffered a blow to the back of the head, and then they had their throats cut and bled to death. There was minimal blood found at the scene, so we can conclude once again that the victim was killed elsewhere and then brought to their final resting place. All of the other wounds, all caused by the wildlife in the area, mainly birds were done post-mortem. The body was also cleaned before being taken to the badlands, and we found traces of linen, so presumably, the body was wrapped in linen for transportation."

"So, no DNA on the body?" John asked.

"No," the coroner replied. "The killer did a good job of removing traces of anything that might link them to the crime, except for under the fingernails. We removed what we thought was paint from under her fingernails, which was expected from a painter, and that is what we mostly found."

"What else was under her fingernails?" Kelsey asked. "You said there was no DNA evidence."

"There was not," the coroner confirmed. "We found volcanic ash."

"Volcanic ash?" Kelsey asked.

"Tuff," Arthur said. "Layers of volcanic ash run through the Badlands, but they are rare, especially in Theodore Roosevelt National Park, and these layers are found nowhere near where the body was found."

"So, if we find where the volcanic ash is from, then we might find where the victim was killed?" Detective Hollis asked.

"It’s possible," the coroner replied. "It's very uncommon, and for the victim to have some under her fingernails suggests that there was some sort of struggle. The layers are usually deep within the earth but can sometimes become exposed. I don't know the geography of the Badlands well enough to point you to a specific location, but there must be someone who can. Everything points to the victim being in some other part of the Badlands before she was killed."

"And you said that there are not many areas where this volcanic ash would be present?" John asked.

"That is correct," the coroner replied.

"The killer cleaned the body but didn’t clean under her nails," Kelsey noted.

"That is also correct," the coroner confirmed.

"He must have thought it was only paint," Detective Hollis suggested.

"Maybe," Kelsey said.

"Can I leave you two to orchestrate finding these spots of interest?" Detective Hollis asked. "The County Sheriff believes it's a good idea to give a press conference, and that is scheduled an hour from now in front of the police station. We’ve gained the attention of some national news outlets, and I know the people in town well enough to know they are terrified that they will be next."

"I’ll be there with you,’ Kelsey said.

"What?" the detective asked.

"It will show a united front if an FBI agent is standing with you at the press conference and helps to put people at ease," Kelsey said.

"I’ll get on with locating where she was before she was moved to her sky burial site," John said.

"You don't have to do this with me," Detective Hollis told Kelsey. He wasn’t annoyed that she had offered. He was surprised that she would want to share the burden with him.

"I know," she replied. "We do this together."

***

Detective Hollis stood at the podium set up in front of Willford Police Station. Kelsey stood behind him with a few officers who had been roped in to show there was more than just one person investigating the case.

A small crowd had gathered, mostly made up of people from town, who all looked up expectantly at their detective. Some local media outlets were in attendance, along with two reporters from national news. Three people had been killed—a serial killer was on the loose.

A statement had been prepared for Detective Hollis to read, but he was still nervous as he looked at his watch. Kelsey surveyed the crowd. There were still two suspects locked up in the police station behind them, but she was not entirely convinced that either one was the killer. If they were not, then it would be in line with what she knew of the killer so far for them to attend the press conference. Perhaps they would even try to ask a question to show they know something, not make it public before slipping away. Kelsey tried to memorize every face in the crowd.

"Okay, I believe it's time to get started," Detective Hollis said. "Good morning, everyone. I’m Detective Hollis of the Willford Police Department. Thank you all for being here today as I give an update on recent events and the case. I want to assure the community that we are doing all we can to catch the person who is terrorizing our town, and we are actively working with the FBI."

Detective Hollis turned and gestured toward Kelsey.

"Over the past week, we have tragically lost three people. Two were beloved members of our community. At the moment, we cannot confirm that the three deaths are connected, but we have good reason to believe they are. I understand that there are fears in our town around the deaths, and I want everyone to know that we are committed to ensuring the safety of our community before anything else. It's understandable for there to be fear when our children, parents, and friends have to go out into our community every day to keep it running, but we have active leads we are chasing up, and we hope to make an arrest very soon.

"We have been conducting interviews, processing evidence, and following up on every lead provided by our treasured community members. While I cannot discuss the specifics of this case to protect the integrity of our investigation, I want to assure everyone that we are working around the clock with multiple law enforcement agencies. We have one of the best FBI agents in the country working with us."

Again, Detective Hollis turned to gesture toward Kelsey.

"At this time, we are asking for any community assistance. If you have any information, no matter how minor it might be, then please call our tip line anonymously or come in and talk to one of our officers. I also ask that our community members take the same basic precautions that I know you are all already taking. Please lock your doors and windows, be aware of your surroundings when you are out, and only walk in pairs or groups if you are visiting an area where you will be alone. I know our National Park is a place of pride within our community, but I ask you not to take any unnecessary trips into the Badlands at this time. If you must go, please go with someone else.

"Our thoughts at this time are with the families and friends of the people we have lost, and if anyone is struggling at this time, please talk to our community liaison officer, who will direct you to the appropriate resources. If new information becomes available and we are able to share it, we will do so as soon as possible. We thank you for your patience with this complex case. I cannot discuss the case as this is an active investigation, but I do have time to take some questions if you have any."

"Did Henry Tate kill them?" someone shouted.

"I can't discuss anyone we are talking to about the investigation," the detective replied.

"I saw him being arrested at the pub!" the same man called.

"Henry Tate was not arrested at the pub," the detective clarified. "We spoke to him at the pub, and he volunteered to come to the station to aid our investigation."

"Is this connected to witchcraft?" someone else shouted.

Detective Hollis gave a wry smile and raised his hand. "There's no connection to witchcraft or the occult."

Kelsey continued to survey the crowd as people continued to ask questions. She hoped for someone to make themselves known with a question that differed from the ones that just showed scared townsfolk who were concerned for their safety. Detective Hollis fielded a dozen questions before he shut it down. No one had asked a question that showed they knew more than they should or that was too clever for the press conference.

"Nice work," Kelsey said when Detective Hollis stepped down from the podium.

"Thank you," the detective replied. "I feel sorry for everyone. I know they are scared, but it's different to look down on them and see that fear reflected back at you."

"Let me ask you a question," Kelsey said. "When you were looking down at everyone, did anyone stand out to you? Was there anyone who looked out of place?"

"Not that I remember," the detective said.

"Yeah, I didn't see anyone either," Kelsey said. "I hoped he might show his face at the press conference, but I don't know if he did."

"Maybe the killer is in one of our holding cells," the detective suggested.

"Maybe," Kelsey replied.

The door to the station opened, and John appeared now that the press conference was done.

"Did it go okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was good," Kelsey replied. "What did you find?"

"There’s a dig site ten miles from the ranch," John said. "Maybe it’s not connected, but they are doing some conservation work there and geological research as they dig. The research field office is way, way south of here. I spoke to them, and they have been transporting the samples from the Badlands down there to examine them in the lab. Among the many different types of soil, they found, they confirmed that there had been some volcanic ash. An excavation site might be a good place to deal with a body?"

"Or someone who is skilled at excavation would be equipped to remove and replace soil," Kelsey replied. "Let’s get out there now and see what we can find."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Kelsey looked out of the truck window at the horizon, where yellow diggers cut a bright silhouette against the pale blue sky. The large claws lifted slowly toward the heavens before coming back down and cutting into the earth.

"Okay, what do we know about Linda Carter?" Kelsey thought out loud. "She was an artist who painted pictures of the Badlands, and that means she would have spent time in the Badlands to do research, even though all signs point to her painting in her studio exclusively from photographs she took when in the Badlands. She was forty-five years old and made a living selling her paintings, mainly to tourists who came to visit Roosevelt National Park. She has no obvious connection to the other victims, in line with my theory that the victims are not connected and they are chosen at random. Two of them have a loose connection to the badlands, but that goes for almost everyone in the area. The same two were artists, either professionally or as a hobby, and they both had websites. Sarah Jennings made a living from helping people promote their websites, but there's no evidence that she ever helped Mark Ellis or Linda Carter. We can't place them in the same place at any point. Two women and one man, maybe around the same age, but they don't fit into a specific demographic. So, we work on the assumption that the killer chooses victims at random, and the way they are killed is important."

"And the two suspects we have in custody still?" John asked. "I know you have an opinion on them even if you haven’t vocalized it yet."

"I’m waiting to hear back on their alibis, but if you want my thoughts, I don't think either of them did it. I don't have any evidence to back that up except for what I know and feel about the case."

"Yeah," John moaned, "but your hypotheses often turn out to be right."

"So, if neither of them is the killer, what does that mean? We have a strong link between the first two victims and Henry Tate, including the squirrel diorama that was left with you and the third victim and Clarissa Blythe. But we don't have a connection between the first two victims and the third. It’s been bothering me."

"What if we do?" Kelsey asked. "What if we have two connections?"

"Two?" John asked. He indicated to pull off the main highway and turn into the range road that led to where the excavation team was working. "I’m struggling to find one, and you have two connections?"

"The killer wants to put on a show," Kelsey said. "They want to present the bodies in such a way that might shock or encourage conversation or thought. From the three bodies we have found so far, it feels like the killer is putting on a show. Now, that doesn’t prove they are all connected, but I feel they are. The killer is risky, but I believe that is because they see themselves as too intelligent to be caught. Many killers, deep down, know they will be caught eventually and try to do as much as they can before that happens. Our killer is different. I think they never expected to be caught. They won’t ever be known for their work, but their work will be known, and they will have notoriety and longevity. That’s what I think is behind the kills. That is the first connection."

"Okay, yeah," John said. "I get it. What about the second connection?"

"What if Clarissa Blythe's right?" Kelsey asked. "What if she's being set up."

"Do you believe she is?" John asked.

"I don't know," Kelsey admitted. "When we last interviewed her, I thought her reaction to everything was genuine. If she's the killer and is as clever as the killer thinks they are, then maybe they could pull something like that off, but I didn't detect any lies. I believed what she said to us, and I hope she has alibis for the murders, or it will only confuse the investigation. Maybe not for Detective Hollis and some other people, but for me."

"Okay, slow down a minute," John said as he pulled the car to a stop.

They both looked ahead at the seven or eight excavation and earth-moving vehicles that worked before them.

"So, if Clarissa Blythe's being honest and she was set up by someone else, does that mean that Henry Tate is the one setting her up, or is someone else setting both of them up?"

"I think someone is setting them both up," Kelsey said. "And I don’t think they are done. I believe that they orchestrated the first two murders to look like something Henry Tate could have done and then sent me to find the diorama in the Badlands to cement that idea. When he killed Linda, he pointed us toward Clarissa Blythe. Maybe I am totally wrong, but I think someone did plant the clothes there. It’s far too obvious. I don't buy that she kept the clothes as a trophy. Now, we have a cleaned body with soil under the fingernails. Are we being pointed at a third suspect, or did the killer make a mistake?"

"Well, which is it?" John asked.

"I don’t know if we will know until we find out who the next suspect is."

"Okay, so if the killer is framing someone for the murders, why not make it the same person?" John asked.

"It’s part of the performance," Kelsey said. "It’s not only the bodies that are part of the performance but how we investigate it. The killer wants to lead us down a specific path, taking us from suspect to suspect until they offer us a final suspect behind it all. They want people to look back on the case and see how clever they were by leading us astray."

"So, what’s the endgame?" John asked. "Do they want us to make a formal arrest and they go free without anyone knowing we have the wrong person, or do they never want to be found and they can forever be cleverer than us?"

"I don't know yet," Kelsey admitted. "For now, they want to lead us on this wild goose chase. The ending depends on why they are really doing this. They want longevity. They want notoriety. There's always a reason why someone does this type of thing. If I had to hazard a guess, it would be jealousy. The person behind this is jealous. Either of a specific person or the world in general. They believe they are entitled to more, and this is their way of gaining it. They are presenting something fantastic to us, or something they consider worthy of our consideration, and it feels to me like it’s to prove a point, to show that they are better than another, or many others. They’ve maybe seen something good, and wanted to best that product by producing something of their own. I can't explain to you the reasoning behind it; it’s the picture of the killer I get."

John nodded as he watched the large machinery working. "Okay, the first connection I totally get. The second one blows me away. I wouldn't think about any of that in a thousand years. When you lay it out like that, it makes sense, but I can't tell you why it makes sense. So, how do we know when we have the right person?"

Kelsey chuckled. "It’s probably the same as the connection. I don't have any evidence for the connection, but I feel it's right. The same will happen when we find him. I think I'll just know who the killer is and who the killer is not."

"I can deal with talking to people and questioning them," John said. "I’ll leave the theories to you."

"That’s why we make a great team," Kelsey said.

They both got out of the vehicle and were struck by the noise. They had visited the badlands multiple times, and it had always been quiet. There was the rumble of large engines as the landscape was permanently changed in one part of the badlands. A constant beep ran out as machines moved between each other.

 John raised his hand up as he walked toward the excavation site, hoping to flag down someone who could help them. A man in a yellow hard hat and carrying a clipboard gestured for them not to come any closer as he walked over to meet them.

"What can I help you with?" the man asked, a question and a statement that people shouldn’t be out there.

"Deputy Gallant," John said, showing his badge. He gestured behind. "This is Special Agent Hawk. We are hoping someone can help us. Are you the foreman?"

"I am," the man replied.

"Would you mind answering a few questions?" John asked.

"Yeah, over here." The foreman waved to an area away from the noise where they could talk without shouting. "What is this about?"

"Why such heavy machinery?" John asked.

"The Department of Agriculture is worried about the erosion," the foreman said. "We are building up a barrier against the wind. I don't really know how it all works, but apparently, there are a lot of fossils in the area, and they don't want them uncovered over time by wind gusts. They would rather dig them up themselves. I don't get it. What difference is it in how fossils are dug up?"

"You send samples to a lab in the south," John continued. "They are taking soil samples, and they reported that there's volcanic ash in the area. Do you know how common that is around here?"

"I haven’t the faintest," the foreman said. "They tell me where to dig, and I dig holes for them. Then they tell me where to put the dirt, and I put it there. And if they want dirt collected and given to a courier, I do that, too. I know digging, but I know nothing about what we dig. I’m presuming that a  Sheriff’s Deputy and FBI agent are down here poking around; it’s about the recent murders in the area."

"What do you know about that?" John asked.

"I know there have been murders," the foreman replied. "Everyone knows. We were listening to the press conference on the radio."

Kelsey spoke for the first time. "Has anything unusual happened here over the last week? Have you ever come in and… I don't know. You know your site better than anyone. Have you noticed anything unusual?"

"Anything unusual?" the foreman asked. He was holding back.

"We would just like to rule out your excavation site as the site of a possible crime so we can move into another," Kelsey said. "I’m sure you wouldn’t want us to shut down your dig for any period of time. You deal in deadlines as much as we do."

The foreman looked from John to Kelsey, and there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth. "It was all dealt with at the time, and Jonas is a good guy. He just doesn’t do well with authority."

"How about you tell us some more about that," Kelsey replied.

"The company doesn't want to press charges," the foreman said.

"We’re not here to stir up any trouble," Kelsey assured. "If something unusual happened here, then we need to know."

"I had to fire him," the foreman said. "When I say he doesn't deal well with authority, that’s an understatement. Don't get me wrong, Jonas is a great worker. He's as hard a worker as they come, but he likes a drink, and he doesn't like to be told what to do. Mix the two, and it doesn’t go well on a site like this."

"Who’s Jonas?" John asked.

"We hired him around four months ago," the foreman told them. "Kept to himself most of the time."

"What did you fire him for?" Kelsey asked.

"Officially, he was let go because they were not enough work for him, but unofficially, he was let go before he was fired. We would have pressed charges if he had not returned the excavator."

John raised his eyebrows. "The excavator?"

"It’s a mini one." The foreman turned and pointed. "That one over there."

Kelsey and John looked over. The mini excavator was smaller than a car, sitting about the same height. There was one small seat for one person. With the work that was going on, Kelsey was sure it was not used very much. It would be used to dig small holes or move a small amount of dirt.

Big enough to dig a hole for the remains of two bodies and small enough not to be seen.

"When was the excavator taken?" Kelsey asked.

"It would have been two weeks ago," the foreman said. "Jonas denied taking it, and then there were some other arguments, and he was put on leave, and then we officially let him go. Then, he brought it back about a week ago. That was the last I saw of him."

"Okay," Kelsey said. "I’m going to have to ask you not to use or touch the excavator for now until we have a team come down here and go over it. I'll also need Jonas’ full name and address."

"Yeah, I’ll get that for you now. I have his file in the site office," the foreman said. He left them to go and retrieve the address for them.

"Another suspect being framed or the mastermind behind the whole thing?" John asked.

"Let’s get straight over to his house and find out," Kelsey said.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

John followed the GPS coordinates to the address given by the worksite foreman. They were led to a trailer park on the southern reaches of the Badlands, twenty-five miles from where the three bodies had been discovered.

All of the trailers were in a state of disrepair and vacant except for one, the one they were headed toward. It was as if the trailer park had been closed down at one point, and everyone had vacated except for Jonas Wilkes. Kelsey wasn’t even sure his trailer had power or water supplied. The yard out front was covered in trash, but there was a small valley cut through the trash leading to the front door. Once they parked up, a green truck was visibly parked on the side of the trailer, not visible from the approach road.

Kelsey and John slowly got out of the truck and looked toward the trailer, both looking toward the windows for any sign of movement. There was no sign of anyone at the window. It was a good bet that someone was inside.

Kelsey checked on her hip for her gun. She and John approached the front door together. John knocked on the door, and they both waited for Jonas to come to the door. There was only silence inside. John knocked a second time.

Kelsey turned and surveyed the area. The trailer park offered an amazing view of the badlands, one that any property developer would kill for. It also showed just how time affected a place, the land cut as if slashed by a god from above, large valleys carved by strikes of lightning. The trailer park also showed the weathering of time. Left without people living there to care for it, the buildings had fallen apart. Left for long enough, and nature would claim them completely.

"I’ll take the front," Kelsey said when there was no answer to John’s knocking.

John nodded, and the two of them split up to work around the trailer and try to find an alternate way in or just locate Jonas.

Kelsey tried the window to the right of the door, standing up on her tiptoes to peer in and see a small kitchenette on the other side of the trailer. The sink was full of dirty cups, plates, and beer bottles. She moved on and continued around the trailer. She rounded the corner and found a large window on the front end of the trailer that covered half of the wall.

Smash!

Something struck the window, and it shattered. Kelsey immediately jerked back and pressed her back to the metal exterior wall. She drew her gun and slowly edged her way around. The window was not smashed or cracked. She could only guess that Jonas was inside and had hurled a beer bottle at the inside of the window and the bottle was what had smashed. Kelsey spotted movement on the other side of the trailer and saw John join her at the front end of the temporary building. He also had his gun drawn.

"We are going to need you to come out of your trailer!" John called. "Jonas, we only want to talk with you."

Jonas didn't wait this time. There was a loud gunshot, and the front window exploded outward.

Kelsey threw herself back, scrambling away from the front window with her gun. She ran for the truck and rounded it to the other side, keeping her head down and running around to the rear to look over the truck bed and try and get eyes on the front window. She felt a presence behind her but did not turn, instinctively knowing it was John.

She inched forward, keeping her eyes on the front window and staying alert for the barrel of a gun. From the sound of the shot and the way the window had exploded, she was sure Jonas had a shotgun in his trailer.

"Jonas Wilkes!" Kelsey called. "I’m going to assume that was a mistake on your part. Toss the gun out of the front window and then come out with your hands about your head. If you do not, we will be forced to come in there, and you have already given us a reason to use lethal force."

There was no answer from inside.

Kelsey inched forward some more, hoping to catch sight of him and take a shot that would incapacitate him.

A noise to her right caught her attention, and she peeked around the rear of the truck to see the door to the trailer swing open. Jonas pointed the gun from the doorway and took a shot at the truck.

John grabbed Kelsey by the shoulder and pulled her back. She felt the truck rock as it was hit by Jonas’ shot, and she worried that he might hit the fuel tank and the truck would explode.

"Put your gun down!" John screamed. He backtracked toward the front of the truck, dividing the targets.

Kelsey poked her head out again, trying to get a visual of what they were dealing with. She saw him in the doorway. He filled most of it, a muscular man, skin weathered and muscles built by years of working in the construction business. He wore stained coveralls and held a shotgun that was currently pointed down at the ground. In his other hand, he griped a bottle of beer.

Jonas was unsteady on his feet and swayed from side to side like a long blade of prairie grass in the wind.

"Put down the gun!" John called again.

Jonas raised the gun and pointed it toward the front of the truck where John had gone. Kelsey made a split-second decision. She pointed her gun and took a shot over Jonas’ head, firing a bullet into the metal above the trailer’s doorway. She wanted him to know they were armed.

It was enough to disturb his train of thought, though he couldn’t have much thought with how inebriated he currently was. Jonas jerked back initially, and then he lurched forward to compensate. He did not let go of his gun or his beer, and that stopped him from being able to balance properly. He stumbled through the door and managed to get his foot on the first step leading down from the trailer, but he was not able to find footing with his second foot.

Jonas fell forward, swinging the gun out as he fell. He slammed into the ground, and the beer bottle bounced from his grip. The gun slammed into the ground but did not go off.

Kelsey emerged from behind the truck and pointed her gun at Jonas, moving forward quickly.

John ran from the other side of the truck, holstering his gun and leaping on Jonas before the man had time to get up. He quickly disabled him, tossing the gun to the side, and wrenched Jonas’ arms behind him to cuff his wrists.

Jonas groaned and mumbled something, slurring his words.

John got up from atop Jonas and left the drunk where he was. He went straight to his truck and checked out the front of it, looking into the large hole in the front. They would need to call out a couple of patrol cars, one to take Jonas back to the station and the other to give them a ride.

Kelsey joined John at his truck.

"It was time to get a new one anyway," John said.

They both looked at Jonas.

"I think he might need to sleep this off before he can answer our questions. We can't interview him in this state," Kelsey said.

"So, mastermind or patsy?" John asked.

"I know what it looks like right now, but let’s talk to him and see what he has to say before we pass judgment," Kelsey replied.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Kelsey woke from her sleep to a noise she did not recognize. There was a fluttering coming from outside her door and a scraping sound. She had no idea what it was, but her only thought was the killer had left her something. She grabbed her gun from the nightstand again and moved swiftly through the darkness to the window by the door.

The black curtains obscured most of the light from outside, but the hour was still early enough that there was not a lot of light to seep in. Kelsey could see from a small sliver between the curtains that it was dusk outside. The sun was about to rise, and she found that odd. Something was wrong with it being so dark.

Then it hit her. The lights were all off outside. Had there been a power-cut, or had someone switched them off? She pushed the curtains slightly aside, staying behind them in case someone was out there, and saw the cause of the noise.

Dozens of birds pecked at seeds that had been tossed outside her door. It was not only ravens and crows but all sorts of aviary wildlife. She scanned the area, noting that she would see no one. The streetlights were still on but were far enough away not to offer much light. All of the motel lights were off. Kelsey stared at the birds feasting on the seed. The killer had been at her door again, and this was his latest offering.

The buzzing from beside her bed disturbed her thoughts, and she went to her phone, expecting a private number, the killer calling her to gloat. Instead, John’s name flashed on her screen.

"Hey," Kelsey answered.

"Are you seeing this?" John asked.

"Can you see them outside my room?" Kelsey asked.

"Are they outside your room, too?" John asked. "I thought it was just my room."

"So, he left his little gift for both of us."

"It would seem that way," Kelsey replied. "Maybe the killer is not working alone, or someone thought it would be funny to toss birdseed outside our rooms, but with what I know of the town, I don't think that is the case."

"We have three people in custody, and Jonas should be in a better frame of mind this morning," John said. "If we don't think any of them are the killer, we need to start clearing them out."

"What time is it?" Kelsey asked.

"Five thirty," John replied.

"Do you want to get some breakfast on our way in?" Kelsey asked. "I’ll drive, seeing as your truck was involved in a shootout yesterday."

"I’ll meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes," John said. "I just need to shower."

***

Detective Hollis was also in early. When Kelsey took a closer look at him, she realized that he had not been home.

"I admire your dedication, detective," Kelsey said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You have been here all night, haven’t you?"

"Yeah," the detective replied. "How did you know."

"She just knows things," John told her. "It’s annoying, but you get used to it."

Detective Hollis nodded as if he understood completely. "So, you think he came to your motel room again?"

"Mine and John’s," Kelsey replied. "We spoke to the guy at the front desk, and he didn't see anyone, but we didn't expect him to. The lights were out when we were woken by the birds, and one of the breakers had tripped, which they said happens from time to time, but the killer must have turned the breaker off so the lights would be off."

"Why?" Detective Hollis asked. "So wouldn’t be seen?"

"I don't think he cares about that," Kelsey said. "He wore a dark hoody last time to stay hidden. I think it was for dramatic effect. He wanted us to be woken by the birds and look out of the window, and he wanted it to be more ominous with the motel lights out. He couldn’t do anything about the streetlights, but I bet he thought of ways to switch them off before abandoning any thoughts about them."

"Okay, so what do we do now?" Detective Hollis asked.

"What did you find out through the night?" Kelsey asked. "There can't have been many people available to speak to you if you are looking for people who can provide alibis."

"This is the most important investigation that I have ever been a part of," Detective Hollis replied. "You bet your ass that I called and called people until they answered the phone. It wasn’t actually that hard with the taxidermy folk. They like to be up at night, apparently, and I now know more than I would care to know about preserving and stuffing animals. I do think we have enough to cover Henry Tate, though. We have a couple of hours here and there where we can't be absolutely certain of his whereabouts, but he must have been in Fargo at the time, as there wouldn't be enough time for him to get back here and then back to Fargo. Let alone have enough time to murder two people. And I confirmed his story about the funeral. It all checks out. Again, I can't account for every single minute."

"What are your thoughts, Detective?" Kelsey asked.

"I want to let him go, but I wanted to check in with you first," Detective Hollis admitted.

"I agree with you. We can rule out Henry Tate. How about chasing up alibis for Clarissa Blythe?"

"We are almost there," the detective said. "I have confirmed that she was out of town when the first murder was committed, possibly the second, but if they are connected and we can rule her out of the first one, then we can likely discount the second. We don't have a confirmed alibi for the third victim, and that is the one she's closely related to with the whole air burial thing."

"Sky burial," John corrected.

"We can keep her in for now," Kelsey said. "We still need to figure out what we are doing about illegally purchasing human bones, but I am leaving that in your hands, Detective. That is a local matter, and I trust you will take care of it."

"All hands are on the serial killer case, but when we get him, I'll take a look at that case," the detective said.

"I like your confidence," Kelsey told him. "Okay, stellar work overall, and we really do appreciate you staying all night to coordinate this. Okay, we can discount two of the three suspects we currently have in hiding cells. I want to talk to Jonas Wilkes still, but I don't see it. He was drunk as a skunk when we brought him in, and I get the impression he has been that way since he was let go from his job. How was he overnight?"

"He shouted for a while around two this morning and kicked at his cell door. I’m pretty sure he broke his bed, but he still found a way to sleep on it afterward. They found a fingerprint."

"I’m guessing you mean on the excavator?" Kelsey asked.

"Yeah," the detective said. "I had a team go out there, and they must have taken a dozen prints from the excavator. From what I was told, it hasn’t been used much in the last week, but we did find a print belonging to Linda Carter. So, we have her fingerprint all the way down there, and there's still the problem of her clothes being found in Clarissa Blythe’s closet."

"When they found the print, was it in a place that was rarely touched?" Kelsey asked. "Somewhere that wouldn't be imprinted over from regular use?"

"Yeah," Detective Hollis said slowly. "Yeah, there's a panel on the front with some dials and controls and stuff, and they found the thumbprint on the bottom of the panel, below the controls."

"Okay," Kelsey said. "I believe that someone is killing people and then trying to frame other people. The print left on the excavator, the ash under the fingernails, the way the bones were buried, the sky burial, and the clothes. No, it’s not even that they are framing these people, not permanently. It’s more like the killer is telling a story. They point us in one direction until we exhaust our leads, and then they point us in a different direction. And between all that, we have these little filler stories like the squirrel we found or the birds at our motel. He’s the one shaping this story, and he's still out there, waiting to give us his next chapter."

"Then, what do we do?" Detective Hollis asked. "How do we catch this guy?"

"He brought the birds to our motel rooms this morning, and if he’s as smart as he has shown himself to be so far, he must know that we have his three framed suspects in custody. So, he knows that we know what is going on, and that means he moves into his endgame. Either he gives us one more body or one more suspect and then disappears. Maybe both. He needs to fool us into thinking we have the killer, or maybe he doesn't let himself be caught. That also means that he might put himself in the firing line, twisting everything, so we let him go, thinking that he's still out there pulling the strings. Think about it. If he can manufacture something to put himself in a situation where we have him and let him go, that’s the ultimate win for him. The ultimate legacy. That’s the best ‘screw you’ to us."

Kelsey shook her head and bit her top lip. It felt like games layered upon games layered upon games, and she was starting to doubt everything that had come before.

"Don't let Henry Tate out just yet," Kelsey said. "I do think the endgame is coming, but I want to be safe. I don't think he's smart enough to pull it off, but if Henry is the one behind this and he has been playing us all along, then we can't let him go just to disappear again. Keep him in a cell for now until we know what we are dealing with, and I'll take any fallout once this is done. If Henry is innocent, he will understand why we did this."

"Alright, this is starting to hurt my head now," Detective Hollis said. "Can I go back to good old police work and call around looking for alibis? That I can deal with. All of this other stuff? Well, it makes me really glad you are here to think all this through for us on our behalf."

"It’s annoying, isn’t it?" John asked with a grin.

"Um, Detective!" an officer called. "Special Agent! Deputy! Uh, everyone, I guess! I think you might want to see this."

Kelsey felt a rush of adrenaline. She did not know what she was about to see, but she could tell by the officer’s tone that she had been right about the endgame. This was what she had been waiting for.

Is it one of you? Are you orchestrating this from your holding cell? Was everything in place before you were arrested, or are you still out there, pulling the strings from afar?

Kelsey, John, and Detective Hollis rounded the desk to look at the officer's screen. A video was pulled up on the screen, with a large white triangle in the middle, ready to play the footage. When the officer moved the cursor to hit play, the title flashed up at the top of the video.

Serial Killer Claims His Fourth Victim?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Emily Dawson grinned wide as she addressed the camera that she held on a selfie stick, part of her arm taking up the bottom right-hand corner of the shot. She had a softness about the way she smiled, and her eyes lit up in genuine joy as she punched around on the spot.

"Can you see all of that?" she asked. "Hold on, I'll try and get a better shot for you."

The footage shifted, and she and her arm disappeared from view, showing a wide shot of the badlands. Emily moved around in a slow circle, giving her viewers a panorama of the badlands, all of it looking vaguely the same. She was out in the middle of nowhere, the plateau of grayish-red earth spreading out in all directions as far as the eye could see.

She stopped moving the camera when it faced the setting sun. Streaks of pink and orange cut through the sparse clouds above as the sun continued its slow descent down toward the horizon.

The camera spun again, and Emily came back into the shot. She flashed another warm smile and took a deep breath in and out. She nodded as if truly appreciating the beauty that the Badlands had offered to her. She took another deep breath, pausing when she had breathed in, closed her eyes for five seconds, and then breathed back out.

"Truly beautiful she said sweetly." Another wide grin. "Alright, I am sure you are getting sick of seeing my face all the time, but you keep tuning into my live streams, so that is on you. As many of you will have guessed, I am in the Badlands, but which Badlands am I in?" Emily tapped her bottom lip and flashed a sultry look at the camera. "For those of you who have been paying attention, you will know that I have been in North Dakota for the past three days as I head north to Canada, and I'll be calling this amazing place home for tonight."

Emily started walking, and she brushed her short black hair out of her eyes as the breeze picked it up. She never stopped smiling the entire time she was on camera.

"And here she is," Emily said excitedly.

She swung her camera around to show her Volkswagen camper van, bright maroon with forest green stripes near the top.

"Isn’t she also beautiful?" The camera swung back around again. "Comment which you think is more beautiful: the Badlands that will be my home for tonight or Bertha, my trusty camper van. I won't judge you if you choose me when I am not one of the choices." She winked.

The camera shifted a little, becoming more jerky as Emily opened the van door and got in, keeping the camera pointed at herself.

"Ah, there we go," she said as the camera became steady again. She was framed by the van interior, her bed behind her. "As you can see, I am all set up and ready to sleep for the night, and I'll be having a cup of camomile tea before bed, I always buy my tea from Tea Caddy dot com, which always has the best selection of teas, and I am not only saying that because I want them to pay me to do so. I love their teas, and I would love for them to sponsor the rest of my trip. You can help me do that by buying their products through the included link." She waved her hand through the air. "I must also let you know that I get a small percentage of every box of tea sold if you click through the link. Please go out and buy some tea from them, and if you find a better tea for late in the evening, or if you have a favorite tea of theirs, please drop a comment in the live stream. I could not do all of this without you out there."

Emily stopped for a second, and the smile dropped from her face. She quickly recovered herself and beamed at the camera again.

"I have been on the road for over a year, and I’m still scared by the slightest sound at night. I had True Mech outfit the interior of my van with the best security measures, so I feel the same wherever I go. I'll drop their link in my blog later tonight. I can hear some howling out there, and it always makes me feel at one with nature when I can hear animals as I go to sleep."

Emily’s smile wavered for a second before she forced it wider.

"Now, did I mention that I am south of the Roosevelt Ranch in Theodore Roosevelt National Park? So, tomorrow, we will have a little history for all of you, and I'll, of course, be doing my yoga tutorial in the morning, so please follow along with me. There's power in numbers, ladies! Oh, I have a new donor and comment here. Let me see… Stay safe out there; there’s a killer on the loose. Well, thank you for the donation, and I'll be sure to be careful that no wolves or bears come for me in the night. When you live off-grid for as long as I have, you know to alas stay safe no matter where you are. Now, I really do have to sign off and get my beauty sleep, and—"

Emily froze, and the smile dropped from her face. She spun around and looked to her right and then to her left before facing the camera again.

She tried to smile for her viewers. "Sorry about that. Some animals are out there, or maybe some fellow hikers, but—"

She froze again. Her face melted from the forced smile to a look of abject terror. She spun to the right and left quickly as if being stalked by a monster. She reached forward past the camera for something and then jerked back and screamed as glass smashed somewhere off-camera.

Emily shrieked again and dived to the left as the window to her right was smashed in. The window to her left shattered and showered her with glass. Another piercing screen from Emily.

"No, please! Please don’t!" Emily shrieked. "No, no, Please!" Emily held her hands up in front of her, kicking her legs to push herself back as glass tinkled from her clothes to the ground. Her arms flashed as she tried to block something.

The camera jerked left and right, then the screen went black.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"That was from a live stream that went out last night from a relatively unsuccessful influencer," the officer said. "Most—she has four regular followers—of her viewers thought it was some publicity stunt, and they waited for her to come back on and tell them so. The video got shared around a little, and someone must have clued in and sent it over five minutes ago."

"We need to get a team down there," Kelsey said. "And I want the IP address of the person who sent this in to be tracked. There’s a chance the killer was the one who sent us this. We are not going to find her at her van, but we might find something."

"That could be anywhere," Detective Hollis said. "There are tens of thousands of acres out there, and they all look the same once you are out there."

"Get a map of the Badlands," Kelsey ordered. "Officer Horner, bring back up the footage when she was still outside her van."

"Do you think this was the endgame you were talking about?" John asked.

"I think it is," Kelsey said. "Maybe he stumbles across someone just happening to make a live stream of their time in the Badlands, or maybe it's all planned. I think he has been—" Kelsey turned to Officer Resiling. "I want you to go back through any of her live streams. Get the user names of anyone who has watched her streams, any comments, anything. Particularly in the last few months."

The officer nodded and went to work.

Kelsey moved to the map that had been laid out on the large table in the conference room. She gestured for Officer Horner to bring his laptop with him. Kelsey grabbed a couple of the whiteboard markers on her way.

"Okay, we have her filming the setting sun, which would be over here." Kelsey drew a yellow circle on the west side of the Badlands map. "Which means we can assume she's somewhere in this area." Kelsey took the black pen and drew two lines from the yellow circle to create a large triangle. She rubbed the black pen back and forth to mark out the areas outside the triangle. “What else do we have? You are all locals. Where would she enter the park from to park her van?”

Detective Hollis and a few of the officers leaned in.

"She said she was south of Roosevelt Ranch, right?" Detective Hollis said. He took the pen from Kelsey. "So, that means that all of this area is out." He scribbled out the area north of the ranch."

"Good catch," Kelsey said.

"Um, this big patch here is pretty much inaccessible unless you know what you are doing," an officer said, tracing a large circle on the map with her finger. "I mean, you could hike there, but you wouldn’t drive a van in there." She used the marker this time to delimit another area.

"And I know this road is closed right now because of construction." Another officer took a turn with the pen. "Which means all of these roads can't be accessed at the moment." He scribbled out another area.

Kelsey looked down at the map—the area was still too large. She gestured toward Officer Horner, and he played the footage from the beginning again until Kelsey gestured for him to stop.

"Okay, what else?" she asked. "We are not only looking for what we can see but what we can't see. If she were somewhere else, what would she see?"

"The Painted Canyon Overlook and the Boicourt Overlook," an officer said. "We would have definitely seen them from the footage if she were there. They are here and here." He marked two ‘x’s’ on the map.

Kelsey took the pen and drew a circle around them, filling the circles in.

"The area is flat," Detective Hollis said. "She’s far from Buck Hill. That’s over here." He marked the ‘x’ and then drew a large circle around it and crippled it out.

A couple of other officers pointed out some places where the streamer wouldn't be, and those were marked off the map, too.

"Wildlife," Kelsey stated. "We didn’t see any wildlife on the stream. Where would we see some bison and other animals?"

"Here," an officer said.

"And here," another added.

More places were marked off.

"Okay, so these are our entry points from a main road. She’s an adventurer, but I don't get the impression from her that she will be roughing it. She doesn’t care about a water source, and he will want to stay close to the main roads. We also know she was planning to head north to the ranch in the morning. So, where is she?"

Kelsey held the pen and tapped her lip on it. Everyone else in the small room was silent as they waited for her to finish her thinking.

"To me, this seems the most likely spot." Kelsey circled the entry point into the badlands and drew a line from the spot. "She follows this road and parks her van down in the valley here." She numbered the spot. "Here and here are also possibilities." She added a ‘2’ and a ‘3.' "If we don't find her at one of these three locations, then we start spreading out to the lesser ones, here, here, here, and here. Does that sound good?"

Everyone in the room was in agreement.

"John and I will take location one; Detective Hollis, take a couple of officers, and head to location two, and a third team will go to location three. We find the van first, secure the crime scene, look for evidence of Emily Dawson being there, and get a forensic team to the spot as quickly as we can. Okay, let’s move out."

***

Kelsey stopped the car and looked at the position of the sun. She checked the footage again on her phone, matching it to their current location, and then pointed toward a steep hill leading down into the valley.

"It has to be down there," Kelsey said.

She pressed on the pedal and took them toward the top of the ridge. As soon as they could see down into the valley, the van came into view. Kelsey took the car down and parked it twenty feet from the van.

The most noticeable thing was that all of the windows had been smashed from the outside, just as the live footage had shown. Kelsey and John got out of the car and ran toward the van. Kelsey scanned the dry earth around the van, hoping to see some obvious footprints, but the dirt was too arid.

They both donned gloves and approached the van from opposite sides, each looking behind them and around to look for anything, something that might tell them where Emily Dawson had been taken.

"Look for anything out of the ordinary," Kelsey told John. "The killer was here, and he will have left something for us to find. We might have to wait for forensics, but there will be something that is ill-placed or wrong. This is where we look for the bluffs or double bluffs."

"Or triple bluffs?" John asked.

"Something like that," Kelsey agreed.

John went to the passenger side door at the front and tried the handle. It was locked. He reached his arm carefully through the sheds of glass that were still in the window surround and unlocked the door from the inside. Kelsey tried the side door that slid open to reveal a large opening. It was unlocked and slid open easily.

You came here, smashed all the windows, and then entered through here. You took her out of the van through here, leaving the door unlocked.

Kelsey looked around for the phone first, knowing where it should be after it had gone black during the live stream. It was not there. The killer had taken it.

Everything else looked undisturbed. The bed was lovely made, covered with glass, the blankets pushed back a little and bunched up from when Emily had pushed herself back to try and evade the killer. There was no footage of him on the livestream. Kelsey did not know if he was armed. She looked again to where the camera had been—Emily had reached past it, trying to grab something to defend herself. Whatever she had tried to grab was not there.

Emily looked at John as he searched through the front of the van. His look mirrored what she felt inside. There was nothing to find at the crime scene. Emily Dawson had been taken, and there was nothing to point her in the direction she had been taken. Nothing to point them at a false suspect.

Maybe this is the endgame. He's done playing his games, and he kills a fourth and disappears. What if she disappears, too, and we never find a body?

"Forensics," John stated. "We wait for them to get here, and then we follow the next lead. This guy loves leaving clues leading to someone else. He’s too arrogant not to toy with us again, right?"

"We have to hope so," Kelsey replied.

The forensic team arrived thirty minutes later. They checked the van from head to toe, but they didn't find any forensic evidence other than what would be expected from a woman living alone in her van.

Detective Hollis and the other officers had joined them at the crime scene, with a small contingent going back to the police station in case they were needed there.

What do we do now? Wait for him to send something to my motel room door again?

The officers looked at her expectantly. She had been the one to take them out there to the exact spot where the van was, but now, she felt lost. She was an untethered boat floating in the ocean with no sail. She was tossed and moved whichever way the current and waves took her.

For the first time in a long time, she felt the pressure of not knowing what to do next. There were no leads, no suspects, nothing. The current victim had disappeared into thin air.

"We don't stop looking," Kelsey ordered. She had to take console of the situation. "Spread out and search the area. Look for anything. A footprint, a dropped earring, a snapped twig. Anything that shows two people moving. Photo any tire prints in the parking lot and see if we can find a match. Let’s start talking to anyone who tuned in to any of her recent live streams. There's a connection here; we just have to find it."

We need to, or a fourth person is dead, and we might never bring the person responsible to justice.

CHAPTER TWENTY

"What do we do now?" Detective Hollis asked.

It wasn’t a petty question but a frustrated one. He had less of an idea of what to do next than Kelsey had. He was looking for guidance and not pointing out that she had hit a brick wall, even if it did feel like that.

"This is the endgame, but it feels… anticlimactic," Kelsey said.

She, John, and Detective Hollis had returned to the station while the other officers continued to search the badlands while there was light.

"Maybe he got spooked by us getting too close, and he made a run for it," John suggested.

"We didn't find any evidence of that at Emily’s van," Kelsey replied. "He must have been watching her, following her for a while. He would have known she was live-streaming. I don't believe the moment he took her was an accident. He wanted us to see that and knew we would see it eventually. It took eight hours for us to get a hold of the footage, and that gave him enough time to get away from the crime scene. I have a feeling that Emily Dawson is still alive, but I also know she won't be alive for long. He has planned all this out, and he needs to see it through to fruition. He still wants to give us a dead body. He wants to go out in a blaze of glory and get the better of us."

"What if he's not working alone," Detective Hollis wondered.

"I have been thinking the same thing," Kelsey said. "The killer has someone to help them, and they haven’t been able to make their move yet because they are still locked up here."

"It’s like you said," Detective Hollis said. "Maybe they wanted to get this close to us. To have us bring them in only to let them go again. Maybe the killer expected to talk to us face to face and then get out of the police station to finish his or her plan."

"Maybe," Kelsey said. "For now, we don't have much else to go on. There are three of us, and there are three of them. We divide and conquer. We take one each and see if we get anything from them. We inform them that we are holding them indefinitely and see how they respond. We are not the only ones with a countdown here. The killer has time against them, too."

"Okay, so who takes who?" John asked.

"You have a good rapport with Clarissa Blythe," Kelsey said. "She's more likely to be open with you or to try and manipulate you if she's the one behind it. I still don't think it can be her if she's buying bones illegally. It seems like too big of a mistake to make when you know the police are coming to your house. Talk with her and see what she said."

"Okay," John agreed.

"Detective Hollis, I have spoken with Henry Tate a couple of times now, and I don't know if I'll get anything else from him. Let him know that the investigation is still ongoing, and we will keep him here for his own safety. If he's the one, he will want to be out there or make some sort of contact with the outside world."

"I’ll see what I can get from him," the detective said.

"I’ll take Jonas Wilkes," Kelsey replied. "He’s the only one we haven’t spoken to yet."

There was only one interview room in the police station, so other plans had to be made. The main offices or conference rooms could not be used; the investigation was still ongoing. The small office Kelsey and John had used was cleared out, and Clarissa, being the least likely in Kelsey’s mind, was taken there to talk with John. Detective Hollis spoke to Henry Tate in his holding cell. Kelsey and Jonas got the interview room.

Jonas Wilkes was hunched over the table when she entered. He had been handcuffed after a few more outbursts that morning, but with the size of him, Kelsey was worried he might break free of his restraints. She was not worried about subduing him; she had fought with men his size before, but she was worried about being injured or the room being damaged in the process.

"Mr. Wilkes," Kelsey said as she moved toward the table. "We finally get to meet face to face without you firing a shotgun at me."

"You were on my property," Jonas said, not looking around to acknowledge her.

"Come on," Kelsey said as she said. "We both know that was not the reason you fired your gun. You saw someone approaching your trailer, you were drunk, you were angry, you had been let go from your job, and you needed a way to let that all out. You shot at me because there was nowhere else for you to go but down."

"Why don't you just arrest me and get it over with," Jonas snarled.

"Arrest you for what, Jonas?"

Jonas finally looked up at Kelsey. His skin was tanned and pocked with the remnants of bad acne in his younger years. His eyes were coded and dark, bloodshot from not sleeping. His hands shook slightly as the alcohol left his body.

"For firing my gun, or not having a license for it, for almost killing a police officer. I don't know. Whatever BS reason you want to try and pin on me. Better to be in a prison cell than back in my trailer. Needs a new window anyway." Jonas chuckled.

Kelsey studied him. He was a beaten man, one who was down, and the only way was still down.

Jonas suddenly lurched forward and lunged at Kelsey. Kelsey held her ground, flinching only a little but not scared by the man. The chains did their job, and he was not able to break free of his restraints.

"Just wanted to see who I am dealing with," Jonas said. "Is that why they sent you in? Because you ain’t scared of anyone?"

"No one sent me in, Jonas. I came in because I needed to talk with you, but I already have everything I need."

"Oh, yeah? What are you? Some hotshot cop?"

"A federal agent," Kelsey said. "So, if we do arrest you for shooting at someone, it will be a federal matter. Why’d you do it, Jonas?"

"What?"

"All of it? You got yourself fired from your job, you stole the excavator, you held yourself up and took shots at us. What were you hoping? That we would fire back and hit you? Was that your suicide?" Kelsey asked.

Jonas’ mouth strained, and he breathed heavily through his nose.

"Doesn’t matter what I say or do," Jonas said.

"Do you mean in here or in life, Jonas?" Kelsey asked.

Jonas shrugged. His shoulders were still slumped, and he looked down at the desk. Maybe he’d gone through some stuff in his life or had it harder than most, but his downfall had been his own doing. He was responsible for where he was right now, and Kelsey could not be sympathetic toward him because of that.

"I'll put you in jail," Kelsey told him. "I think you want that anyway, but I also think it's best for you. If you go back out there, you will self-destruct as quickly as possible. You don't have a job anymore, you’re house is pretty much done for, and I’m guessing you don't have much more beer money."

"Did you come in here to kick me while I am down?" Jonas asked.

"I think you do a pretty good job of that all by yourself," Kelsey said.

Jonas gritted his teeth and nodded, still staring at the table. "It doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore."

"Did you plan to steal the excavator, Jonas? Was that planned, or did you do it in the pub at the moment?"

"I was going to sell it," Jonas said. "Thought I could get some more beer money, and it would be a big screw you to the company. They get off of trying to control you."

"You do know you have to do as you are told when you work somewhere, don’t you?" Kelsey asked.

Jonas sighed. "Not really my style, is it?" He chuckled.

"What is your style, Jonas?"

Jonas took a moment. "Screwing up, I guess."

"Did you have a buyer lined up for the excavator?" Kelsey asked, hoping that maybe the killer had made contact and it was part of the plan to get the excavator away from the worksite for some reason."

"Nah." Jonas took a deep, frustrated breath. "That’s the only reason I took it back. I thought I could sell it, but it was too risky. Everyone seems to know everyone around here."

"The company would have pressed charges if it were not for the foreman," Kelsey said. "He helped you out. Not that you should ever go back there to thank him for it, but I would keep that in mind if I were you. Not everyone is out to get you, Jonas."

"Yeah, well, we live different lives, and you don't really know me. You don't know who is out to get who in the real world," Jonas said.

"You would be surprised," Kelsey said. "We might not come from the same place, but I’ve been through hell enough times to know what this world is like, Jonas. I really hope that when they finally let you out of prison, you take the second chance you have been given."

"That’s the thing about me," Jonas said. "I don't really do well with second chances. Or first chances. Or any chances, for that matter."

"Alright." Kelsey sighed. "I can't stay in here with you, Jonas, but I'll send someone in later to take a formal statement from you and go through your whereabouts over the past week or so. Please don’t lunge at them."

Kelsey got up, and she patted Jonas on the shoulder as she passed. She left the room and found Detective Hollis and John waiting for her. They both looked at her expectantly.

She shook her head. "He’s not our guy. I didn't get an alibi yet, but I know who he is. I’ve met guys like him before. He’s got a mean streak in him, that’s for sure, but he’s not capable of planning anything beyond where his next beer is coming from. Once this is all done, I’ll talk with you, Detective Hollis, about what we do with him."

Detective Hollis nodded.

"Anything?" Kelsey asked.

"Clarissa Blythe just wants it allot go away," John said. "She's worried that the bones have ruined her chances of getting the grant, and she's willing to do anything and work with us in any way to make that happen. I believe her."

"Henry Tate is willing to stay in his cell for as long as we need him to," Detective Hollis said. "He didn't ask to make any calls or see anyone. All he asked for was some coffee. I don't think that is a part of any masterplan."

"No, I don't believe so either," Kelsey said. "Any word back from the forensic team or the officers searching the Badlands?"

"No, nothing," the detected said.

"Hey, Special Agent Hawk!" An officer called. "You are going to want to see this."

Kelsey ran into the main offices, followed quickly after by John and Detective Hollis.

"Have they found something?" Kelsey asked.

"Her stream is live again," the officer said. "She’s gained about a thousand followers since her last live stream."

"Is she streaming?" Kelsey asked.

"Emily Dawson just went live," the officer told them.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Emily Dawson tried to remain calm. She tried to breathe evenly as she lay in the darkness. Her ankles were bound, and her hands were tied in front of her. She could still hear the sound of breaking glass in her mind as he came for her in her van, and then she had no recollection of what had happened after that. All she knew was she was in complete darkness, and she knew she would die.

She tried to sit up and move around, but she found the bindings around her ankles were also tied to something else, a long stake driven into the ground that she could not free herself from. She grabbed the metal stake and pulled on it, but it did not budge. Emily reached out her hands and clawed for the walls of her prison, but she could not reach the sides.

She waited. She listened to try and hear something, anything, but there was only silence. Her eyes did not adjust to the light because there was no light. It was pitch black, and she knew at that moment that she would never see the lights again.

Emily patted her pockets, hoping to find her phone, but it was gone. She reached down to her shoe, and the small sheath was still tied around her ankle, but the knife she usually had in there was also taken. She slumped back to the ground and burst into tears. She wiped them with her bound hands as best she could.

Her mother had told her that going on a road trip across the US and Canada was a bad idea, and she really wished she had listened to her now. She would give anything to go back to her boring life in Albany. Not that Albany was boring, but her life had been, and that was why she had chosen to make the trip.

Emily suddenly shuddered, but not in fright or fear. She patted the top pocket of her jacket and felt it there. She quickly unzipped it and found her streaming camera. It did nothing except send live footage out onto her channel.

"I know almost no one tunes in, but please be out there. Please, please, please. I just need one of you to be on, and you can save my life!"

Emily crossed her fingers and hit the button on the top of the camera.

"Hello? I don't know if anyone can hear me. You can't see me right now because I am in complete darkness, but I need help. I don’t know where he has taken me. I was in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. I don’t know where in the park, but I was driving my camper van, and I stopped for the night. Oh, my goodness. The map is in there, and I marked the point on it, but that doesn't help you find the van because you will have found the van to find the map. Oh, Emily! Get a hold of yourself."

Emily took a deep, snotty breath, sobbing as she breathed out.

"Please, you have to find me. I'll try and guide you as best I can, but I don’t really remember much. I remember that he took me from my van, and put a blindfold on me, and gagged me, and then he walked with me. He threatened me. He told me that he wanted me to be scared. No, he wanted me to be petrified, and if I said a word, I would become bones in the Badlands just like the rest of them. He told me that there were already lots of bones in the Badlands, and I would join them. He asked me if I was petrified by him, and I told him I was. I tried to remember where we were walking—I’ve seen them do that in spy movies. We must have walked West because I remember feeling the sun on my face. Then, we went up onto the ridge, and after maybe ten minutes, we went down again. Every two minutes, he asked me if I was petrified, but I dared not say anything. He said I would be his legacy, and I would be surrounded by them. I would be amongst the remains. Then there was something about them being alive, but now they were dead, and I would soon be dead, too. He said it was my fate, my righteous fate. He kept saying that over and over. That I deserved to be petrified, and I would become a fossil, and everyone would remember him, but no one would remember me. I think we walked through a lot of valleys because it got very cold at some points. Is anyone out there? Can anyone hear me? I really hope this has enough battery in it to get this message out. I am petrified! I’m terrified! I’m so, so scared. He—"

***

"I am petrified! I’m terrified! I’m so, so scared. He—"

What happened?" Kelsey asked.

"I think her battery died," the officer said. "Either that or the stream has been turned off."

"Did you record it?" Kelsey asked. "I need a copy of the recording. He’s trying to tell us something."

"You mean she's trying to tell us something," Detective Hollis said

"No, she’s only repeating what he said to her. He said some very specific things to lead us to her. This is his endgame."

"She's to be his legacy," John said. "Surrounded by the dead who were once living."

"He’s taking her to the original crime scene," Detective Hollis said.

"She said petrified multiple times," Kelsey said. "He said it to her multiple times. He could have said scared or afraid, but he used petrified. And he mentioned fossils. He talked about them being alive, but now, they are dead. I don't think he was talking about the other victims. He wouldn’t go back there. He might suspect we are still working on the sites or have them blocked off from the public. Detective Hollis, when you think of fossils, and dead things, and being petrified, what does your mind go to? Where in the Badlands would you go?"

"The petrified forest," Detective Hollis said, realizing that it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The trees were alive, but they are fossils now. They are petrified wood. It’s hard to get to. It’s a ten-mile hike in."

"I can get us a chopper," Kelsey said.

***

Kelsey looked down from the helicopter as the pilot hovered over the petrified forest, looking for a good place to land. The buttes and gullies made it a hard trek in, but it was the weathered clay slopes that made it near impossible at times, especially during the rainy season.

Petrified logs and stumps were scattered across the landscaped, dots of red, brown, and orange, easy to see against the pale ground. The area was remote but felt teeming with life even though the trees were not petrified. It did not take much imagination to imagine a large, dense forest there at one point in time, swathes of green with animals beneath.

Kelsey scanned the area, looking for anything to help them. The trip would have been breathtaking if they were not there to find a missing woman who would die if they did not locate her. The area was two square miles, and they were looking for a shelter or cave where he could have hidden her.

John and Detective Hollis were with her, and their collective hope was as high as they were at that moment. If they found her alive, she might be able to identify him. She was the only person who could say anything about him.

They circled above, the pilot waiting for further instruction. Kelsey’s eyes hunted furtively over the ground, looking for a spot where he could have hidden her. She was in complete darkness in the footage, but it sounded like she was not confined. It would be a larger structure than a coffin. Kelsey was surprised that the young woman had been able to stream from such a remote location.

"We can't hover up here forever," the pilot said over the radio.

"We have a better vantage from up here," Kelsey said.

She moved from the right window to the left, her mind recognizing patterns. It filtered out the fossilized trees, focusing in on anything that looked like it had been built recently or a cave entrance. She focused and unfocused, hoping to see what had changed down below and hoping that they had the right place.

"There," Kelsey said, pointing.

There was something about the way the earth looked slightly different on the side of one of the ridges below. It was a slightly darker shade.

John grabbed the bag they had brought along. It was filled with the tools they might need if they had to enter a building or dig into a mound of earth. Detective Hollis grabbed the two spades. The pilot found a bare patch of ground as close as possible to where Kelsey had pointed.

As soon as the helicopter touched down, John pulled the door open.

"Keep the engine running," he told the pilot. "We might need to airlift her out of here and straight to the hospital."

John and Detective Hollis jumped out first, running toward the side of the ridge. John with the bag and the detective with the spades. Kelsey stepped out of the helicopter, keeping her head low as she ran after the two men.

It was a hundred yards to where Kelsey had led them, and as soon as they got there, the two men grabbed a spade each and began to dig.

Kelsey stood back from them and surveyed the earth. It looked like an archway had been pained onto the side of the ridge. Kelsey knew it was the killer’s work. He had built a door with dirt, likely wetting it and building it up to block off the cave he had used.

John and Detective Hollis made easy work of it as they dug through. As soon as they had poked a hole in it and realized that it was open beyond, they jabbed at the dirt with their shovels, poking a larger and larger hole until the entire blockage collapsed. They didn't bother clearing any of the dirt; the hole above the pile was large enough for them to enter.

Kelsey went in first. She had already grabbed a flashlight, and she drew her gun, just in case. She pointed both into the cave, stepping over the dirt to enter what she hoped was not a labyrinth. Kelsey huffed in confusion. She pointed her flashlight at the back of the cave, not five yards before her. She swung the flashlight to the left and right, checking every inch of the interior.

The cave was small.

The cave was also extremely empty.

Emily Dawson was not there, and it looked like she had never been there.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Kelsey sat in the helicopter, staring down at the black screen of her phone. The footage Emily Dawson had streamed was playing, but nothing was visible in the darkness. Kelsey brought the screen up to her face as she tried to see something that would give a clue as to where she really was.

"So, she was never really there?" John asked.

Kelsey was almost too angry to answer. She hated being made to look like a fool or being toyed with, but it was a thousand times worse when the games she was forced to play included the life of an innocent woman.

"He knew exactly what he was doing," Kelsey said. "He left her with her camera, knowing that she would only be able to livestream and wouldn't be able to contact anyone. He was very specific about what he said, making sure that she remembered certain words. He wanted us to go there and find it empty."

"So, if he didn't close the cave up recently, then…" John said.

"He could have done it weeks ago, planning all of this from the start. I don't know if she was a part of his plan, but the cave was. Maybe he has been following her livestream leading to this and knew she would be here around this time. Maybe he planned it all to coincide with Emily Dawson being in the badlands so he could take her while live streaming." Kelsey growled and shook her head. "I don't know how deep this goes. He’s smart, but I don't know how smart yet. The woman is still in play, and that means there's more to find. Have we gotten any hits from the livestream viewers?"

"There aren’t many, but none are local. There are only profiles linked to two of them, which leaves fourteen more people who subscribed to the live stream who could be anyone, and if they use VPNs to block their location, then they could be anywhere."

Kelsey listened to the live stream over and over. There had to be something she was missing. No matter how she twisted the words, she knew they were meant to send her to the petrified forest and the empty cave.

You knew I would come here, and now that I have visited it, you will give me something else. You are not done playing with us yet.

"Bones in the Badlands," Kelsey said. "Emily mentioned that twice. She said she would become bones in the Badlands just like the rest of them. That there are already lots of bones in the Badlands. I don't know. It just seems like a weird way of phrasing it. Is that how someone would say it?"

"Righteous fate," John added. "That’s the same. It sounds cool, but it doesn't really mean anything, does it?"

"No, it doesn’t," Kelsey agreed.

She became angry again, imagining the killer, knowing she would go to the cave, come away empty-handed, and then look deeper and find a different hidden message.

"He would have watched the livestream," Kelsey said. "Narrow down the search to anyone who watched her plea for life. He would need to ensure we were given the correct information, or he would have to resort to plan B."

"What is plan B?" Detective Hollis asked.

"I don't know," Kelsey said. "We might never know because we don't need to know. She relayed the message. At least, I think she did."

"What does it mean, though?" John asked.

Kelsey swiped her screen to remove the video and opened her browser. She typed Bones in the Badlands" and "Righteous Fate" into the search bar. Multiple results appeared on the screen.

"Leonard Knox," Kelsey said. Her heart began to beat faster. "He wrote the series Bone of the Badlands. Three books centering around an archeologist who makes discoveries in the Badlands of North America. It’s not successful by any means, but he has a loyal following. And Righteous Fate. The first book in his detective noir series. It was released a month ago, and the reviews are better than his previous books."

"So, he’s our guy?" Detective Hollis asked.

"I don't know," Kelsey admitted. "But I believe we will find evidence at his house. Or we will find something there. He’s either the killer or the person the killer is framing. He’s the person the killer is jealous of. That means they are close to the killer. Detective Hollis, call the station and see if they can track down the IP addresses of anyone who was watching the live stream."

"He lives on a ranch on the other side of the Badlands," John said. "It’s his family home passed down from his father and his father before that. He comes from a family of ranchers." John spoke to the pilot, diverting their route to head in the opposite direction.

"Look at this," Kelsey said. She held up her phone to show John. "He has a series of books about a killer who leads the detectives on wild goose chases, spanning eight books before he's finally caught. The reviews are abysmal."

"So, he's the killer?" John asked.

Kelsey was annoyed at telling people that she didn’t know, but she didn't know the answer to that question. Maybe he wanted more fame and decided to take all his best ideas and transport them to real life, or maybe someone close to him was jealous of his fame and was framing him, using his own ideas but executing them better.

"No, it’s not him," Kelsey said. "He wouldn’t purposely point us in his direction. He would want to throw us off. We need to be careful. If the killer has been planning this for a long time, they might have an airtight case. I’m beginning to worry that we will find all the evidence we need to convict Leonard Knox without being able to prove he's innocent."

"So, what do we do?" John asked.

"We hope we don't get to his house and find a dead body sprawled out on his front lawn."

"Why not just put her in the cave and kill her there?" John asked. "We would still discover the message and visit Leonard Knox."

"He had to be sure," Kelsey said. "He needs Leonard Knox to be found guilty of this beyond a shadow of a doubt, maybe go out in a blaze of glory. Is that the endgame?"

"What?" John asked.

"What is the approach like for the ranch?" Kelsey asked. "I’m presuming it's pretty secluded."

"Let me check," John said.

"Art?" Kelsey said, talking to the pilot. "I need you to hold our position for now. We can't get too close. Keep us right here until I tell you otherwise."

"What’s going on?" Detective Hollis asked.

"I think we trigger the endgame," Kelsey said. "He needs Leonard Knox to go to jail for the murders, and what is the only way to guarantee that."

"If there's proof he did it," the detective replied.

"Which would be?" Kelsey asked.

"If he was caught in the act?" Detective Hollis suggested.

"Exactly," Kelsey said. "He can't take any chances with this last one. He’s been able to plant evidence, but he can't control all of the variables. You can't with something like this. That hasn’t mattered so far. The other was a distraction so he could weave his story, and now, he needs a nice, neat ending. I believe Emily Dawson is being kept hostage somewhere at the ranch, and Leonard Knox is unaware."

"But how does he make that happen?" Detective Hollis asked. "It’s not possible."

"I don't know how he makes it happen, but he must be there," Kelsey said. "He will orchestrate it from the ranch. He waits for the cops to come and creates the scene: Leonard Knox at the crime scene, his prints on the weapon. Maybe he's holding the weapon when the cops arrive. The killer has to time it right, but they will already have taken care of everything and will only need to add the finishing touches. If I am right, this means that Emily Dawson is still alive, and we can't risk alerting the killer to our presence as we approach."

"It's secluded," John said. "One road in and out. It's about two miles off the main road. There’s a hill behind the ranch that would give a good vantage point."

"Okay, so we approach from behind, and we land two or three miles away," Kelsey said.

"Better make it three," John said. "Just to be safe."

"Okay, get on the phone and make sure no one approaches the ranch. If he thinks the police are coming, he will start the endgame."

John nodded.

"Detective Hollis, I hope you can run. Once we are out there, it’s not a case of no man left behind anymore. We run as fast as we can, and we locate the woman before he can get to her. He will be close to her location, but he will need to keep an eye on the road. That gives us a chance."

"But we don't know where he has her," Detective Hollis said.

"No, we don’t," Kelsey agreed. "We get there, and we do our best to find her. We know she's in a small building; it's completely blacked out, and it will be one of the ranch buildings that is not in use."

"And one that is easy to keep an eye on," John said. "He will have secured the victim, but he's not a man who takes risks, so he won't risk her escaping. The building is likely locked or blocked from the outside."

"It will be relatively far from the house," Kelsey added. "He can't risk the victim making a noise that attracts Leonard."

"I’m running as fast as I can, but I really hope I don't make it there first," Detective Hollis said. "I won't forgive myself if I am the one who causes her death."

"Use that to fuel you," Kelsey said. "Holding back because of fear is more likely to get her killed than going in there and giving it your best shot, okay?"

Detective Hollis nodded.

The pilot was given his flying instructions, and they headed toward the ranch. Kelsey stared out of the window. It was the middle of the day, and that would make it easier to spot someone hiding at the ranch, but it made them easier to spot. They didn't have the time to wait until nightfall to enact the rescue mission.

They flew above the badlands, keeping as low as possible, and the plot landed exactly three miles from the ranch. It was usually at that point that Kelsey would give a small pep talk before they headed into battle, but there was no time. As soon as they landed, she opened the door on her side, got out, and started sprinting.

When she looked back, she saw John and Detective Hollis sprinting side by side.

She hoped they were not too late, but being too late was the least of their worries. There were too many things that could go wrong.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Kelsey felt her lungs burn, but she didn't slow. There was fire building up inside of her, and it felt like the heat was trying to strangle her from inside. It had crept down to her legs, too, and her thighs felt as if they were on fire. She knew that as soon as she stopped, she would have a cramp in each calf.

Kelsey had not looked back since she started running. She did not want to be caught unaware if they encountered the killer sooner than they thought, and she didn't want to miss her footing and trip. Even though she couldn’t see him, she had a hunch that John was right behind her. Kelsey still held the 5k women’s record for FBI trainees, a record that had stood for years and had beaten the previous record by a full seven seconds.

John had been in the military and had traversed much worse terrain than what they were on, at speed and carrying heavy loads. She was unsure about Detective Hollis, but he was with them now, and there was no going back.

Kelsey slowed when she saw the ground rise before her. There were two possible ways to approach the ranch. They could storm the hill, hoping to find the killer and take him out, or go around and utilize a stealthier approach. Kelsey came to a stop, and pain shot up both calves.

She ignored it and looked behind, seeing John not far from her and a figure in the distance. She gestured to her left and then turned in that direction and ran. The killer would be somewhat hidden. As she ran, she could imagine herself in the killer’s mind. He would be hidden in case he was spotted by Leonard or someone else visiting the ranch, and he would need to be hidden in case law enforcement showed up without him spotting them.

She knew what his plan B would be. If he didn't have time to get to Emily Dawson and kill her, he would leave her locked up and hope that Leonard still took the fall. She had no doubt that he would have left additional evidence in and around the house to be found.

Or are you with her in your hiding spot? Keeping an eye on her?

Kelsey didn't think he was. The killer could not be sure how much time he would need to wait, and he could not risk leaving any evidence of him being there. If he stepped out a moment, and he was caught or had to run, Emily could tell them that someone had been in the hiding spot with her the entire time. No, Kelsey was sure they were in separate but close places.

Kelsey stayed near the bottom of the hill that she suspected the killer was on. John knew about surveillance, especially when it came to keeping an eye on the enemy, and if he thought that the killer would use the vantage point, then it was a pretty good bet that the information was correct.

The ranch came into view. Kelsey sighed at the sight. She could really have done with the ranch being operational and there being a cornfield between her and the ranch, but the space was mostly open. A moment later, John joined her.

They were both out of breath, and they didn't talk as they both surveyed the area, trying to work out the best move.

"What do you think?" John asked.

"I’m still trying to calculate our best option here. You can see the house behind the large barn, and then there's the barn to the right, but I don't think he’s keeping her in the barns. It’s too big if he needs to block out the light. But it means that we can’t see the buildings beyond the barn. We can get closer, but if we do, we risk tipping our hand."

"What… did… I… miss?" Detective Hollis asked, struggling to breathe.

"It’s not looking good," John said. "Maybe this is one of those times where we have to focus on the killer. I know we all want to save her, but if we take him down, he won't kill again."

"I don't know if he plans to," Kelsey said, "but I understand the sentiment. If we go in there hard and quick enough, we might spook him into running, and then we hope we can catch him. Or, he goes for Emily and takes her out before we can stop him. If he does that, we have a better chance of taking him down."

"I don't like those options," John said.

"Neither do I," Kelsey agreed. "So, we split up."

"Detective Hollis and I go up and hope we can find the killer, and you go after the woman?" John asked.

"Yeah," Kelsey agreed.

"Sorry, what’s the plan?" Detective Hollis asked.

"Just stick with me, and if we see someone running to escape, we do all we can to take them down," John said.

He didn't give the detective time to answer or question the decision. John took off back the way they had come, and the detective took off after him. Kelsey watched them and waited until they were a third of the way up the hill. Then, she took off toward the first of the large barns.

Kelsey drew her gun as she ran. The killer had used a knife to kill his three victims, but she was ready to be fired at. The killer was smart, and he would be armed. She reached the back of the barn and pulled on the door, wanting to check inside and get out of the open.

There was a musty smell inside, and Kelsey scanned the interior as she ran through it. She was looking both for movement and a small room or enclosure where Emily was. Nothing stuck out to her, and she ran straight through the empty barn to the door on the other side. She placed her hand on the handle and took a breath.

She knew this was it. If the killer was paying attention and had not spotted them already, opening the door might alert him. She didn't know for sure whether she would be spotted, but she made the decision to open the door, run, and figure out the rest as she went along.

And go!

Kelsey pushed open the door and ran out into the sunlight. There was a crack from her left, and something whizzed by her head. It was the greatest thing she had heard all day. She knew that someone had taken a shot at her, but it had to be the killer, and if he had taken a shot, then it meant he was protecting this investment. One shot, and she was sure Emily was still alive.

Kelsey ran faster, her eyes hungrily devouring the immediate area, looking for something, anything to tell her where Emily was. She waited for another shot to come, for the searing pain to hit her.

Crack!

Another shot, but there was no whizzing bullet. Then, another shot and another.

Get him, John.

Then she saw it—a small shed with black windows.

"What is going on out here?"

Kelsey liked her head to the side to see a man on the back porch with a rifle in his hands. She didn’t have time to shout to him and explain what was going on. Another gunshot, and the man raised his rifle, shooting at Kelsey, who was running through his ranch with a gun. Kelsey dived to the side and was on her feet again.

She got to the shed door and rammed her shoulder into it, bouncing back off. Another gunshot and the bullet bit into the earth to her left. Kelsey raised her gun and shot the padlock. She slammed her shoulder into the door again and burst into the small room, falling into the hard dirt within.

She spun around and kicked herself back, pointing her gun at the door. More gunshots and Kelsey realized someone was shooting at the shed. Pinpricks of light cut through the half-darkness. Kelsey saw the huddled form in the corner, and she scrambled over to cover her.

A figure suddenly blocked the light, and Kelsey raised her gun. She only had a split second to make the decision, and she fired. The man ducked to the side to avoid the shot.

"Garret?" someone said from outside.

Another gunshot, and someone fell to the ground. Kelsey held her gun pointed at the doorway, ready to shoot.

The same man returned, pointing a gun in. Kelsey shot again, and he ducked back. She pointed the gun at the wall he was behind and shot, aiming blindly. Bullets thudded into the dirt by her feet, and her mind worked instinctually. She quickly calculated where the bullets had hit, where they had entered the shed, and the angle of the shot. She raised her gun and unloaded her clip until her gun clicked. Were was a thud outside, and then silence.

The shed went black, and Kelsey raised her gun at the man in the doorway even though her clip was empty.

"It’s me," John said.

Kelsey let out a shaky break and dropped the gun to the ground. She hyperventilated as it all caught up with her.

"Is he?" Kelsey asked.

"Oh, you got him," John said. "Looks like he got Leonard Knox first."

Kelsey turned to Emily Dawson. "Are you okay?"

Emily nodded, fear staining her eyes.

"It’s over," Kelsey said. "You are safe now."

EPILOGUE

Detective Hollis stepped up to the podium and cleared his throat before he spoke into the microphone. The gathered crowd was three times the size of the one that had gathered for his previous press conference.

"I want to thank you all for being here today. Garret Langley, the man responsible for killing three people, is now dead. His fourth victim, the blogger Emily Dawson, was found alive and relatively unharmed. Leonard Knox, the author, was shot in the operation to rescue Emily Dawson, and he's currently recovering in hospital and is expected to make a full recovery. He wishes me to tell you that he will be releasing a new book in the next month."

There were some ripples of laughter from the gathered crowd.

"This has been a tough time for us all, but the danger has passed," Detective Hollis continued. "There's no reason to be scared anymore. We are still piecing everything together, but Garret Langley was Leonard Knox’s half-brother, and they have been estranged for over ten years. Garret Langley plotted to kill four people and then pin the murders on his half-brother after leading law enforcement on a series of wild goose chases.

"I was involved in a delicate operation with Special Agent Hawk and Deputy Gallant where we were able to subdue the killer and rescue his fourth victim. Without the cooperation of the FBI, we might not have made an arrest, and more people would likely have died. I would like to thank Special Agent Hawk and Deputy Gallant for leading this investigation. We have also made an additional arrest during our investigations, but not connected to the serial murders. There's still a lot of work to be done, so I'll not be taking questions at this time. Thank you."

Detective Hollis stepped away from the podium and joined Kelsey and John, standing off to the side.

"I think small-time life suits you," Kelsey said. "You mean something to these people."

"Maybe I'll stick around for a while longer," Detective Hollis said. "I really couldn’t have done any of this without you."

"Don't downplay it," Kelsey said. "You did some great work over the course of the investigation, and I believe your decision-making skills are an asset to the department. Jonas Wilkes will go to jail, and Clarissa Blythe will not face any charges and will get to go on her trip."

"I figured that she might owe us some favors if we need help with anything like this again," the detective said.

"It’s a good way to work," Kelsey said. "Treat the good people well, and keep good people around you. I think you will do good things here, detective."

"Thank you again," Detective Hollis said.

He held out his hand for Kelsey to shake and then shook John’s hand.

"I should get inside," Detective Hollis said. "There's a mountain of paperwork to do. Have a safe trip back."

Kelsey smiled as the detective went back inside.

"So, we should—"

Kelsey was interrupted as John took her in his arms and kissed her. She felt her body melt into his embrace, and she lost herself for a moment before she kissed him back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself up to kiss him fully. Everything was forgotten: the aches and pains in her body, the death that had surrounded the town for a while, and going back to real life.

"I have been wanting to do that for a while," John said when they came apart.

"Then why didn't you?" Kelsey smiled.

"I got caught up in my own head. I had a talk with Samantha, and she told me she was dating someone, and I thought it would look petty to start dating someone right after she told me, so I thought I would wait, but I couldn't wait any longer to do that."

"Dating someone?" Kelsey asked with another smile. "Slow down there, cowboy."

John laughed. "I don't mean… well, I don't really know what I mean. I only know that I want to explore… us and see where it takes us."

"Yeah, I would like that, too," Kelsey said. "Maybe you can explore kissing me again, and we will see where that takes us."

John laughed again before he took Kelsey by the waist and kissed her. A volcano grew inside Kelsey, and when it erupted, it wasn’t an explosion but a warmth that consumed her from the inside out. She rubbed John’s back, knowing that it felt right. She had been waiting for him to kiss her for a long time, and it was worth the wait.

***

Kelsey returned to her hotel room to pack up for the ride home. She was excited to get back to Erica and make sure she was okay. She would be for as long as she was in Sheriff Anderson’s protection, and Kelsey would take her home and keep her safe.

As she opened her door, her phone rang. Kelsey didn't recognize the number but was still compelled to answer.

"Hello?"

"Did you really think we would forget about everything? When we took your sister, we didn't kill you. That means you owe us one. We will be asking for a favor very soon, and if you want your sister to remain in your company, we suggest you do exactly as we say."

The line went dead.

"Who was it?" John asked from behind.

"What?" Kelsey asked.

"On the phone? You answered it and then said nothing."

"Oh, yeah," Kelsey managed, her heart beating faster. She didn't want to turn around, or John would see the fright on her face. "No, it was nothing—wrong number. Some recorded message about an overdrawn account. It was a scam or something." She took a breath. "I'll shower and be packed up in thirty minutes."

"Okay," John said. He kissed her on the back of the head. "Let’s get dinner before we leave."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Kelsey said, not turning around.

She closed the door and leaned her back against it. A tremor of panic washed through her. She thought the past was finally in the past, but she might never be rid of it.

NOW AVAILABLE!

DEAD AND GONE

(A Kelsey Hawk FBI Suspense Thriller—Book Nine)

“This is an excellent book… When you start reading, be sure you don’t have to wake up early!”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Tough and brilliant FBI special agent 30-year-old Kelsey Hawk is relocated to the desolate and unforgiving landscape of small town North Dakota, to which she’d vowed to never return, when a chilling tableau is discovered in the heartland's desolate fields—victims staged as ominous scarecrows. It’s up to Kelsey to unearth the twisted secrets of these macabre murders, before the grim reaper's sickle strikes again.

“This book moved very fast and every page was exciting. Plenty of dialogue, you absolutely love the characters, and you were rooting for the good guy throughout the whole story… I look forward to reading the next in the series.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

DEAD AND GONE is book #9 in a new series by #1 bestselling mystery and suspense author Kate Bold, whose bestseller NOT ME (a free download) has received over 1,500 five star ratings and reviews.

When she was just a child, Kelsey’s entire family was murdered, leaving her, the sole survivor, to grow up in the foster system. A rising star in the FBI, Kelsey set her ambitions on being assigned to a field office in the big city, away from the ghosts of her past. But when she’s reassigned to a small town in North Dakota, she can’t help but remember all the tragedy she fought so hard to leave behind.

Can she stop this killer in time?

A page-turning and harrowing crime thriller featuring a brilliant and tortured FBI agent, the KELSEY HAWK series is a riveting mystery, packed with non-stop action, suspense, twists and turns, revelations, and driven by a breakneck pace that will keep you flipping pages late into the night. Fans of Rachel Caine, Teresa Driscoll, and Robert Dugoni are sure to fall in love.

Future books in the series are now available!

“Kate did an amazing job on this book and I was hooked from the first chapter!”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“I really enjoyed this book. The characters were authentic, and I see the bad guys as something we hear about daily on the news... Looking forward to book 2.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“This was a really good book. The main characters were real, flawed and human. The story went along quickly and wasn't mired in too many unnecessary details. I really enjoyed it.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Alexa Chase is headstrong, impatient, but most of all brave with a capital B. She never, repeat never, backs down until the bad guys are put where they belong. Clearly five stars!”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Captivating and riveting serial murder with a twist of the macabre… Very well done.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“WOW what a great read! Talk about a diabolical killer! Really enjoyed this book. Looking forward to reading others by this author as well.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Page turner for sure. Great characters and relationships. I got into the middle of this story and couldn’t put it down. Looking forward to more from Kate Bold.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Hard to put down. It has an excellent plot and has the right amount of suspense. I really enjoyed this book.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Extremely well written, and well worth buying and reading. I can't wait to read book two!”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

DEAD AND GONE

(A Kelsey Hawk FBI Suspense Thriller—Book Nine)

Kate Bold

Bestselling author Kate Bold is author of the ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eight books (and counting); the HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eleven books (and counting); the KAYLIE BROOKS PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting); the DYLAN FIRST FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting);  the LAUREN LAMB FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the KELSEY HAWK SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising nine books (and counting); the NORA PRICE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the NINA VEIL FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising ten books (and counting); OF the BARREN PINES PSYCHOLIGICAL SUSPENSE series, comprising seven books (and counting); of the ADDISON SHINE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting); and of the MAGGIE FLIGHT SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting).

THE KILLING GAME (an Alexa Chase Suspense Thriller—Book #1), LET ME GO (an Ashley Hope Suspense Thriller—Book #1), and NOT ME (a Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book #1) are available as free downloads on Amazon!

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Kate loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.kateboldauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

BOOKS BY KATE BOLD

MAGGIE FLIGHT SUSPENSE THRILLER

FINAL KILL (Book #1)

FINAL CHANCE (Book #2)

FINAL MISTAKE (Book #3)

FINAL LIE (Book #4)

FINAL BREATH (Book #5)

FINAL WHISPER (Book #6)

FINAL HOUR (Book #7)

ADDISON SHINE SUSPENSE THRILLER

FIND ME (Book #1)

FIND HER (Book #2)

FIND HELP (Book #3)

FIND HOME (Book #4)

FIND HIM (Book #5)

FIND YOU (Book #6)

FIND HOPE (Book #7)

BARREN PINES

THE UNSEEN NEIGHBOR (Book #1)

THE UNSEEN WIFE (Book #2)

THE UNSEEN KILLER (Book #3)

THE UNSEEN WOMAN (Book #4)

THE UNSEEN PAST (Book #5)

NINA VEIL SUSPENSE THRILLER

AWAY FROM HERE (Book #1)

AWAY FROM HIM (Book #2)

AWAY FROM HOPE (Book #3)

AWAY FROM HOME (Book #4)

AWAY FROM HUMANITY (Book #5)

KELSEY HAWK MYSTERY

DEAD INSIDE (Book #1)

DEAD RECKONING (Book #2)

DEAD TO ME (Book #3)

DEAD SILENCE (Book #4)

DEAD TO DAWN (Book #5)

DEAD END (Book #6)

DEAD OF NIGHT (Book #7)

DEAD CALM (Book #8)

DEAD AND GONE (Book #9)

ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER

THE KILLING GAME (Book #1)

THE KILLING TIDE (Book #2)

THE KILLING HOUR (Book #3)

THE KILLING POINT (Book #4)

THE KILLING FOG (Book #5)

THE KILLING PLACE (Book #6)

ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER

LET ME GO (Book #1)

LET ME OUT (Book #2)

LET ME LIVE (Book #3)

LET ME BREATHE (Book #4)

LET ME FORGET (Book #5)

LET ME ESCAPE (Book #6)

CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

NOT ME (Book #1)

NOT NOW (Book #2)

NOT WELL (Book #3)

NOT HER (Book #4)

NOT NORMAL (Book #5)

NOT AGAIN (Book #6)

NOT SAFE (Book #7)

NOT TODAY (Book #8)

HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

NOWHERE SAFE (Book #1)

NOWHERE LEFT (Book #2)

NOWHERE TO RUN (Book #3)

NOWHERE LIKE THIS (Book #4)

NOWHERE GIRL (Book #5)

NOWHERE TO HIDE (Book #6)

NOWHERE CERTAIN (Book #7)

NOWHERE PURE (Book #8)

NOWHERE SOUND (Book #9)

NOWHERE SANE (Book #10)

NOWHERE TRUE (Book #11)

KAYLIE BROOKS PYSCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER

LAST BREATH (Book #1)

LAST CHANCE (Book #2)

LAST WISH (Book #3)

LAST SHOT (Book #4)

LAST MISTAKE (Book #5)

EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

IN HIS BLOOD (Book #1)

IN HIS SIGHTS (Book #2)

IN HIS REACH (Book #3)

IN HIS MIND (Book #4)

IN HIS WAY (Book #5)

IN HIS THOUGHTS (Book #6)

IN HIS DREAMS (Book #7)

DYLAN FIRST FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

OUT OF REACH (Book #1)

OUT OF TOUCH (Book #2)

OUT OF TIME (Book #3)

OUT OF BOUNDS (Book #4)

OUT OF LUCK (Book #5)

LAUREN LAMB FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

SOMETHING KNOCKING (Book #1)

SOMETHING CALLING (Book #2)

SOMETHING WRONG (Book 3)

SOMETHING DARK (Book #4)

SOMETHING TO HIDE (Book #5)