Hunted, page 9
“Anybody touch the contents?” Ethan asked tersely, meeting Beth’s gaze.
“None of us. I used scissors, that pencil, and a pair of tweezers.”
“Good.”
They watched as he carefully lifted the slip out of the box. Gasps and curses sounded as he held it up, exposing the slashes and cuts in the material. With his jaw clenched, he carefully laid it back down in the box and read the note.
“Where was this?” he asked.
“It was folded on top,” Beth said.
He placed the note back in the box and closed the lid. He pulled a large evidence bag out of his kit and placed the box inside, along with the packaging it had been wrapped in. Carefully sealing the bag, he noted the sender’s name and address. “Have you contacted Harbison yet to find out who sent it?”
Vanessa spoke. “I just talked to Maisie, their office manager. She said they have no idea who would have sent it, but it didn’t come from inside their office. That’s the courier service they use, but no one over there sent the package.”
Ethan nodded, not seeming surprised. “I presume the slip was yours?”
“It was part of what was taken Saturday night. Have you gotten any leads on who might be responsible?”
He shook his head as he drew off the gloves, not directly answering her question, a fact that didn’t escape Beth’s notice. He pulled out his clipboard, retrieved a blank incident report from inside, and started to fill it out. “Has anything else unusual happened over the last few days or weeks?”
She rubbed her forehead with her hand. “Nothing I can think of. We’ve had a few complaints about one of the stories we ran, but I told you about that the other night.” She looked at Marshall, who agreed. “There haven’t been any complaints other than the ones coming from the mayor’s office. It’s been relatively quiet, what with people being busy on vacation and getting back to school.”
“So absolutely nothing unusual? Nothing that stood out as odd even if it wasn’t necessarily menacing?”
Beth started to say no but frowned. She answered slowly, “There was one thing. I got a bouquet of flowers, red roses, a few days before the wedding. The card wasn’t signed, and Annie didn’t know where the order came from. It was an online thing, and the sender didn’t leave a message. I’d forgotten about it until now.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “How many roses are we talking?”
“It was a large arrangement. Maybe two dozen? It cost whoever sent it a pretty penny.”
Sampson slid his arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently. “Are you getting so many bouquets these days that something like that doesn’t stand out?”
“It isn’t really all that uncommon, Poppy.” Her cheeks heated. “There are quite a few readers who follow what I write, and I get gifts like bouquets, stuffed animals, that sort of thing, on a fairly regular basis. I have one lady who knits something for me for every season. The roses were unusual, but they didn’t really stand out.”
“You said they were red roses?” Ethan asked, scowling a little. When she nodded, he eyed her with a frown. “You sure they weren’t from a boyfriend?”
She narrowed her eyes at his tone. “Well, let me get out my little black book, and I’ll start calling all of them, and we’ll see.”
Marshall cleared his throat. “That sort of sniping won’t get us anywhere.”
Even though she agreed, Beth had to force herself not to snap back. “I’m not seeing anyone right now. Not seriously enough to justify those flowers anyhow.”
“What about Dr. Ormsby?” Vanessa asked. “He seemed pretty serious about courting you.”
“There is him.” She grimaced, then outlined the relationship for the others, including their exchange the day before.
“How did he take your rejection?” Ethan asked.
She shrugged. “Not well, really. He said some nasty things about my ‘type’ of man and let me know that he wouldn’t hold that against me if I changed my mind about dating him.”
“You’ll interview him, right?” Marshall asked Ethan.
“We will.” He slipped the incident report into the clipboard’s storage compartment and closed the evidence kit, then picked up the package. “I’ll take this back to the department and get the lab started on processing it.” His gaze rested on Beth. “Make sure you let either Jason or me know if anything else happens. Even if it seems insignificant, okay?”
“I will. So have you turned up anything? Jason said you’d be looking at the registered sex offenders.”
“We’ve found nothing. We’ve talked to a few people, but everyone seems clean, relatively speaking. We’ll let you know as soon as something turns up.”
Sampson clapped Ethan on the shoulder and went around the counter toward the newsroom. “I’ve got to head back upstairs. Beth, come see me later, okay?”
Marshall also excused himself after making the same request.
As the men left, Ethan looked at Beth. “Walk me out?”
“Sure.”
He held the door for her, gesturing toward his cruiser, and they walked against the wind in that direction. Trying to keep loose strands of her hair out of her eyes, she watched as he unlocked the unmarked car and set the evidence kit and package inside.
After closing the door, he leaned against the side and studied her. “How come you’re not interested in the doctor?”
Based on their previous conversation and considering her stress from the reception of the package, his question was enough to put her on guard. “Did you or did you not work the Charity Vaughn case?” She lowered her voice as she stepped up to him. “Don’t answer that—I know you did, and I’m sure you saw the sex tapes too, including the one where he damn near choked her to death and slapped her around in the name of ‘fun.’ I’m not into that, and Charity told me he was too into it.”
She snorted as she walked a few steps away, hands on her thighs to keep her skirt from pulling a Marilyn Monroe. “Aside from that, why in God’s name would I want to be involved with a man who’s so in love with himself he couldn’t possibly understand the concept of loving someone else? Do you honestly think that’s who I am? I thought we’d settled this last week. Apparently you can’t let go of your ‘misconceptions.’”
Looking away, he thrust his hands into his pockets. “Apparently not. Where’d you hear about the sex tapes? Charity?”
“Does it really matter?” Beth asked, surprised he wasn’t going to continue the argument. She sighed, suddenly weary. “Someone who didn’t want to see me get hurt told me about them, and no, I’m not telling you who it was, so don’t bother asking. Are you finished with me here? I have to get back to work.”
Ethan nodded, and she turned to walk away, but his words stopped her. “Beth, watch your back? I don’t like this.”
She grudgingly acknowledged his warning and left. As she went back into the building, she rubbed at her chest where a pang of disappointment burned. It was a physical hurt, Ethan’s attitude. After the two nights they’d shared when he’d opened up a little to her, his jabs were much more painful to have to take, and she was finished taking them.
Ethan stood watching as she walked away. With a groan, he scrubbed his hands over his face and pushed off from the car, feeling battered by more than the wind. Going around to the driver’s side, he got in, his mind going back to how pale her face had been when he first walked into the newspaper.
For close to two years now, he had fought his feelings for Beth. Seeing that she was suffering now, the urge to go to her was even stronger. Knowing he didn’t have the right to do that made him angry, and once again, he had let his insecurities rule his tongue, driving her further away. Since the ill-fated night at her apartment, he’d spent his nights alone with a bottle of whiskey, trying to put her hurt and vulnerability out of his mind.
He allowed himself a moment to briefly consider what would happen if he were to ask Beth out, but he quickly rejected the idea.
“Have you forgotten all the lessons you’ve learned over the years?” he asked with a snort of derision. Most of those lessons had been vicious, and though the scars were hidden inside where no one could see them, they were still there.
Beth Hudson wasn’t for him, and one of these days, Ethan was going to convince his heart to accept that fact.
Chapter 15
The roar of the wood chipper echoed in the copse of trees that surrounded the large sinkhole. Murky water, illuminated by the lights he’d set up, churned wildly inside the natural depression. Recent rains had brought the water level up so that it wasn’t even three feet below the sinkhole’s lip. The fast-running underground river would take care of any debris or larger pieces of evidence the chipper didn’t break down.
As he fed the subject’s limbs through the hungry machine, he thought about tonight’s hunt. The chase hadn’t gone as well as he had hoped. The man had tired long before he was ready to call an end to things.
“This latest version just isn’t cutting it,” he muttered as he used a stick to push on the bottom of the man’s shoe inside the machine.
He was anxious to get back to his lab and run tests on the tissue samples he’d collected. He forced himself to slow down, however. Rushing through cleanup increased the risk of leaving evidence behind, which increased his risk of getting caught, and he couldn’t have that.
As he waited impatiently for the last body part to clear the machine, he went to the small lean-to on the side of the sinkhole. Turning on the generator, he powered up the pump that provided water pressure for the fifty-five-gallon drums of cleaning solution stashed inside, then dragged the hose to the chipper and washed it down. The odor of bleach reached him even through the respirator he wore, and he swallowed. He hated the smell, but it was necessary if he wanted to destroy the evidence.
That finished, he turned to his van. Threading the hose between the front seats, he carefully hosed out the cargo area with the bleach and water solution. When it was clean to his satisfaction, he switched the hose to plain water and rinsed the floorboards three times to get rid of the stench of chlorine. By then it was nearing sunrise, and the eastern sky was starting to lighten.
After shutting down the generator, he stored all his tools in the lean-to and pulled the van forward so he could attach the wood chipper to the hitch. As he drove out of the ravine, he stopped and looked around to make sure no one was watching. Satisfied he was alone, he pulled out and drove to his house, where he pulled the vehicle into the barn.
With the cooler that held the tissue samples in hand, he hurried to his lab and set up the first tests, then carefully stored the remaining tissues in the lab’s small refrigerator. That done, he returned to the van and stripped down to his bare skin. After piling his clothes in the bag that held the test subject’s belongings, he padded barefoot and naked to the small incinerator behind the barn. He shoved the bag in, fired up the flame, and watched as the evidence burned away.
Satisfied it was destroyed, he jumped into the shower he’d added next to the lab for nights like these. He didn’t want to take the chance of any trace evidence ending up inside his house. Though he knew minute fibers and particles could tag along, the chances of anyone finding them after all his precautions were remote. Once showered, he dried off and made one last trip to the incinerator to dispose of the towel.
After turning out all the lights in the barn, he walked to the house and let himself in, unconcerned by his nudity. The nearest neighbor was half a mile down the road, so there was no one around to see him. He grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and checked the clock as he opened the bottle. He had a couple of hours before the tests would be complete, and the computer would run them without any human interference.
With sleep calling to him, he headed to his bedroom and collapsed with a sigh. He wasn’t scheduled to work that day and intended to take full advantage of the fact. As he drifted off to sleep, the images from his previous hunts flitted through his mind, and he smiled.
Chapter 16
Sunday afternoon found Beth and Jason cleaning up the kitchen at their parents’ farm after the family dinner. She was at the sink, loading the dishwasher without speaking. For days now, she’d been in a grumpy mood, and she couldn’t seem to shake it.
Jason’s face reflected concern as he scraped down plates and handed them to her. “Are you okay?”
“It’s been a long, long week. Hand me the platter?”
He did as she asked and waited patiently while she closed the door to the dishwasher and turned on the unit.
“I got into it with Ethan again,” she finally said, his patience convincing her to talk. “I don’t understand him. It’s almost like he’s two different people. Sometimes he’s so nice to me, and I think maybe… but then he’ll turn around and say something hateful. Why does he do that?”
“Ethan’s complicated.” Jason watched her closely, moving aside as she filled the sink with hot, soapy water. “As long as we’ve been friends, there’s still a lot about him that I don’t know. He doesn’t share much of himself.”
“Why is that?”
He took his time answering her. “I think part of it’s because he’s been teased a lot about his dad being Mexican, and he keeps to himself to keep from being hurt. Even when he was engaged a few years ago, I don’t think that changed.”
Not wanting Jason to see her reaction to his words, Beth’s attention fell to the small pan she was scrubbing. Though the engagement had ended well before the wedding was scheduled to take place, she still didn’t like thinking about that period of time.
“I get what you’re saying, but I don’t know why he’s like that with me. I thought we were friends, and I’ve never given him any reason to distrust me. Monday night when he stayed with me? He was so sweet. He even let me give him a partial manicure,” she said with a tiny smile. “But then Tuesday… things got ugly.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. “How ugly? You never did tell me what happened.”
She leaned against the counter. “Not menacing ugly, but… remember our discussion about how people think we have it so easy because of who we are?”
“Yeah. Don’t tell me Ethan thinks that.”
“Maybe not about you, but about me? He most certainly does. And he’s drinking a lot more than I thought he was.”
Drying his hands, Jason frowned. “How much?”
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Enough that when I prank-called him a few months ago? He thought he imagined it. I’ve been watching him in recent months when he doesn’t think I’m looking. He’s reaching for the bottle more and more.”
He rubbed a hand across his face, clearly upset. “I wonder if Chase knows.”
“I talked to him about it when he stayed with me last week.” She looked at her bare feet, feeling completely lost. “How much of Ethan’s attitude toward me do you think is real?”
“And how much is alcohol- and hurt-induced?” When she nodded, he sighed. “I don’t know. Like I said, he’s hard to read. But I can’t believe he really thinks badly of you. I’d almost bet money he doesn’t. I know he respects you.”
Clearing her throat, she said, “Stacy thinks he’s attracted to me.”
Jason leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “I’ve had the same thought. That’s part of why I sent him to you last week.”
Beth was floored. “You were playing Cupid?”
“If you want to call it that, yeah. Obviously it didn’t work. I’m sorry.”
She just stared at him. “Oh, Jason, that’s so sweet.”
He scowled. “Sweet? I am not sweet. I’m a big, burly, stoic law enforcement officer.”
With a wide smile, she wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug. “I love you, you big, not-burly, never-stoic brother of mine.”
After a second, he sighed and returned the hug. “Love you too. And if you tell anyone what I did, I’ll arrest you.”
Beth laughed, knowing he wouldn’t do any such thing. “Whatever you say.”
Chapter 17
As she walked back to her desk Monday morning following the staff meeting, Beth smiled. Public feedback had been positive toward Saturday’s article regarding the rumors about devil worshippers. She hoped it would help calm the mild panic that was creeping into the community and allow the real purpose of the altars and trespassing to be revealed. Lost in thought, she pulled up short when she saw a striking bouquet of red, white, and black flowers on her desk.
Jules Lowe, the paper’s other senior reporter, saw her expression and walked over to peruse the arrangement. “There’s a card. You want me to take a look at it?”
“No, but thank you.” Her steps felt heavy as she came up beside him. Laying her notebook down, she called up front. “Van, I have flowers on my desk.”
The receptionist sighed. “And you should have seen the gorgeous specimen who dropped them off. Tall with black hair, green eyes? A smile that lit up the sun with dimples to match?”
Beth relaxed, laughing at the description. “Ah, I see. It’s okay. I know who sent them,” she told Jules, who saluted her and returned to his own desk. “Thanks, Van.”
Hanging up, she reached for the card. When she turned over the small envelope and opened it, she caught the faint scent of expensive cologne. After glancing around to see if anyone was watching, she brought the cardstock to her face and inhaled deeply, her eyes drifting closed for a moment. She quickly scanned the note’s contents, the words sending a smile to her lips.
Nice article in Saturday’s paper, Ms. Hudson. Your unbiased reporting is much appreciated. Hope you enjoy the flowers. Call me. G.
