Page 5

Chapter Five

BEAU

A s twilight settles in, I’m ready to give up for the night. Tracking in the dark is a true misery only reserved for the most dire missing persons cases, where time is of the essence. After a week without locating either woman, it’s safe to assume this one’s no longer time-sensitive.

Not quite ready to give up, however, I head into a more remote part of the forest, one I know well. The area is one of my go-to spots for scoping out deer, thanks to abundant meandering streams, lush vegetation, and relative isolation.

Suddenly, a scent catches my nose. Motherfucker.

I stop, sampling the air again. Unmistakable.

The smell of death.

It captures my nostrils, pungent and acrid. And this death has a humanness to it that makes my stomach churn. There’s nothing like it in the world. Cadaverine and putrescine responsible for the awful stench.

Although instinct warns me away, I follow the odor to a large patch of recently disturbed ground. Covering my nose with my hand, I stare at the brushless surface. Using my satellite phone because there’s no signal up here, I call the sheriff’s department, getting Patty at dispatch.

“Hey, Pat, can you put me through to the sheriff?”

“Sure thing, Beau. Please hold.”

I wait for a few moments before Will answers. We went to school together, and it still feels oddly surreal how he went from Vengeance County’s star leftie pitcher to its head law enforcement figure. There were few curve or fastballs he threw that I couldn’t line drive straight up his ass. Fortunately, we played on the same team, which kept things from getting ugly in high school.

“Beau, tell me you’ve found something.” His voice sounds desperate, no doubt the result of the media storm gathering outside his office.

“I’m going to drop you some coordinates. Bring out search and rescue, the cadaver dogs, and have an ambulance and the coroner’s officer on standby for transport. I’ve either found your missing hikers or more job security for your deputies.”

“Goddammit. What in the hell’s happening to our little neck of the woods?”

I grunt. Vengeance County is small by most standards, with just over four thousand inhabitants. However, because of its role as a starting point for the HRT, it receives a healthy influx of seasonal tourists and the big city problems that come with them.

Nevertheless, multiple murders in less than a decade that appear to be linked despite the death of the perp is a problem … a real big fucking problem. And one that I can attest smells to high heaven.

A couple of hours later, law enforcement and first responders swarm the area. The cadaver dogs come in with search and rescue, making their first sweeps of the area. They sit in the same two spots multiple times, independently confirming what everyone’s noses already tell them. Next comes a grisly all-night excavation and the recovery of remains.

The results shake me to my core, although I already knew what they’d find. But there’s something about the juxtaposition of my interaction with Brynn this morning and this grim find that sets me on edge. It’s been a long time since I cared about someone more than myself. Not because I’m selfish, but because I never really learned how to trust others or do the relationship thing. It makes me feel oddly vulnerable, an emotion I haven’t indulged in since childhood.

Although I can’t be sure onsite if the bodies they pull are those of the missing hikers, I’d put my money on it based on the recent state of decay. Dental records will be checked along with other biological materials to confirm their identities. And the coroner’s office will have its work cut out with autopsies to identify what led to their deaths, as well as other evidence that might help solve the case.

Will stands next to me, shaking his head. “This is different than the previous missing hiker cases.”

“Yep,” I agree, tugging on my beard. “The graves were much deeper and better concealed before. This is the work of an amateur and a lazy one at that.”

“Either ghost murderers are sloppy or…”

“Or this is the work of a copycat?”

Will nods, grimacing and resting his hands on his hips.

Raising my eyebrows, I say, “Time for an announcement to the press, don’t you think? Hikers need to be aware of this before anybody else falls prey to this guy. Hell, just this morning, I had to chase off a woman alone at Lake Florence making yoga videos on the shore.”

Will scrubs his face with his hands. “Yep, I’ll get on top of a press release. Can’t help dumbass hikers, though.”

He couldn’t be more right, yet anger flashes inside me, hot and hard. “I wouldn’t call her a dumbass, just overly optimistic about the whereabouts of the hikers. Like a lot of people in town.”

He shrugs. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Beau. You’ve got a knack for finding where the bodies are buried.”

“Guess you could say I’m one notch above the Grim Reaper.”

As a professional tracker hired on by the sheriff’s department for search and rescue, finding the bodies marks the end of my official duties with the department. But before I leave, William takes me aside, speaking in hushed tones. “If I don’t get a break in this case soon, I don’t know.” He shakes his head.

“This is the break,” I say.

“Yeah, but Ted Wesley Craven can’t rise from the dead. So, who’s copying him?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.”

William asks, “How can some people be so depraved?”

I shrug. “After seven years in the Corps and another five helping you guys with these cases, I’m all out of answers.”

“I hope you’re not out of time to help with the manhunt,” William says, leveling his subdued gaze on me. “And possible clean up...”

By cleanup, he refers to the unspoken things I do for Vengeance County when duty calls. Like mete out backwoods justice, the kind that doesn’t require lawyers, judges, or juries.

I grunt, nodding. “When it comes to protecting innocent lives, I’m your man.” Especially the redhead from the lake, whose memory obsessively wraps around my mind.

“And I’ve got your back,” he grumbles, looking like the weight of the world is squarely pressing down on his shoulders. Offering his hand, he adds, “Nice job today, Forester, though I wish the outcome were different.”

“Agreed,” I mutter, letting go of his hand and wheeling back around to start my descent to the trailhead.

“Oh, and Beau,” William calls after me. “This goes without saying, but no comment is the best comment when it comes to dealing with the media.”

“Sure thing, Will,” I say, turning around with a nod of the head before jumping the black and yellow caution tape and disappearing into the woods. I need a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. But first, I need to do my guardian angel thing with Brynn one last time.