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Jack sat in the bar, where Karen Solter was last seen, talking to the bartender and one of the waitresses. They were the two who noticed Karen had indeed been talking to the man in the picture.

“They were just standing there,” the bartender said. “The only reason I noticed them at all was because the man had on a coat, and it was ninety degrees outside and probably over a hundred degrees in here with all the bodies.”

“Did you see them talking?” Jack prodded.

“No. I glanced up and saw this guy with a coat on and thought ‘what an idiot’ and the only reason I noticed her was because she was standing on the step below and, swear to God, this dude was leaning over looking down her shirt.”

Turning to the waitress, who had been eyeballing him since he walked in, Jack asked her the same questions.

“Well,” she said, leaning forward, “I only noticed him ‘ cause he’d been standing around not ordering any drinks and when I tried to get him to order, he glared at me. Seriously? Me? Like he could scrape me off his shoe.”

“Did you see the two of them talking at all?”

“Never saw them talking, but he got what he deserved,” she groused.

Cocking his head to the side, he asked, “How so?”

“He must have said something to her because I saw her turn around and poke him right in the chest like she was trying to get him to stop doing whatever it was he was doing.”

“Do you remember which hand she was using?”

The waitress’ face scrunched up in thought before brightening. “Yeah, it was her right hand.”

That night he worked in the command center alone, knowing Bethany had her hands full with renters. She said she had been working on a new business plan but did not want to talk to him about it until she had done more research. But she swore it could bring in more money during the off season.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of Bethany, he re-focused on the files in front of him. He stared at the faces of the victims. Pale in death, their vibrancy snuffed out, bright futures taken away. Bethany was working right now on the future of Mountville. Can her work include me? He stood up quickly, cursing at his thoughts straying from the case. Jesus, I can’t concentrate for thinking about her. How is this ever going to work?

He paced the floor for just a moment, the burden of the job he needed to do warring with the desire to simply be with Bethany crowded his mind. The gate alarm sounded and irritated at the intrusion, he went to the monitor. Then stopped. And smiled. Her face, peeking out of the old car she drove, was grinning at the camera.

Buzzing her in, he jogged up the stairs and through the house to the front door. She must have flown down the driveway because she was out of the car and hurling herself toward him by the time he made it down the front steps.

He caught her in mid-air as she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him.

Finally coming up for air, she beamed at him and, seeing the questioning look on his face, said simply, “I missed you.”

Throwing his head back in laughter that she felt rumble against her chest, she tightened her grip, knowing she had done the right thing. As his eyes, still lit with pleasure, came back to hers, she said, “I know you’re busy. I…I just wanted to see you.”

“Oh, beautiful. I couldn’t concentrate for thinking about you,” he confessed.

“Can we talk for a few minutes?” she asked, shyly. “Then I promise I’ll leave and let you get back to work.”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutey,” he answered. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” He paused on the top step, leered at her and quickly amended, “Well, yeah I can.”

Giggling, she said, “Not now, big boy.” Placing a kiss on the side of his neck, she whispered, “But hopefully later. ”

He carried her inside and sat on the sofa with her in his lap. “So, what’s up darlin’?” Staring at her face beaming up at him, he was filled with the realization that he did not mind the interruption. Just having her here gave him a sense of peace. Of rightness.

“You know I’ve been thinking of ways to bring in more business during the off seasons and using my marketing degree at the same time.” Seeing him nod, she continued, “But I just couldn’t think of the right angle. One that fit for me. So, I was sitting the other day going through Gram’s old photo albums and came across the ones from when they were first married. And there was one where they were standing in front of the second cabin they had built and…” she paused for effect. “It had a Welcome Honeymooners sign in front. See, when they first started building, they advertised Mountville as a perfect getaway retreat for honeymooners.”

Seeing the interested look on his face, she said, “That wouldn’t work anymore because couples go to exotic places for their honeymoons nowadays, but…what if Mountville was advertised as a wedding venue?”

He caught her excitement, but hesitated. “Um, I can tell you’re excited, but I have to confess I don’t have a clue what the hell a wedding venue is.”

“It’s where an outdoor wedding can be held. You know the grove on the west side of the lake, where the mountains in the background can be seen? It would be a gorgeous place for an outdoor wedding. The cabins would be perfect for the wedding party to rent since most have to be there the day before the wedding.”

His mind wandered to the place she was referring to. Green grass in an open field, the lake to the side and the Blue Ridge Mountains rising behind the tree line. Beautiful. Hell, if we got married, that’s where I would want it to be. The idea jolted him. Married? Suddenly, the rightness of the idea settled deep inside, sending a calm throughout him that he had not had in months. He realized that no matter what happened with his business, he wanted this woman in his life. In his home. In his bed. With his name.

“So, what do you think?” she asked excitedly. “I’ve been doing research and other places that offer a similar campaign do really well.”

Jolted out of his personal musing, he smiled, saying, “Beautiful, I think it sounds amazing…just like you. Whatever you want to do with Mountville is fine with me, as long as you’re with me .”

Her enthusiastic smile morphed into one focused directly on him. “I want that too, Jack.”

He slid one hand up her back, across her neck and into her thick hair, cupping her head as he brought her mouth to his. Taking her lips, he moved over them slowly. Feeling. Tasting. Savoring. Capturing her groan, he took the kiss deeper. For once, they did not take it further. Both just satisfied to let their lips do the exploring, they melded into each other.

Finally, pulling apart, she said, “I know you’ve got to work, and I’ve got to get back. I’ve got another group to check in this afternoon.”

Hating to let go, he slowly acquiesced. “More families?”

“Yeah, everyone is trying to get in their last vacations. I’m going to be doing some checking into the wedding venue idea, so I’ll talk to you later.” Rising on her tiptoes, she grinned. “Well, hopefully, the next time I’m here I can give you other ideas that don’t involve work.” She poked him in the chest with her finger for emphasis. “Got that, big boy?” she teased.

Glancing down at her small, right index finger, he knew. The Saints were right. The girls had used their forefinger to poke the killer, probably for trying to come on to them. And it enraged the killer. Enough to cut off their fingers.

Bethany saw the strange expression crossing his face and said, “Okay, I get the hint. Your brain is on work. And honey?”

He looked down at her guiltily.

“That’s perfectly fine. Go solve crimes, Jack. I’ll be here when you’re finished.” With one last kiss, she headed to her car, giving him a goofy wave as she drove away.

Another month passed without the Campus Killer striking again. Most college campuses in Virginia, while still vigilant, were celebrating homecomings, football season, and the students were preparing for midterms.

Jack’s Saints were still on the job but were more diversified in their work. Taking on a personal case for their friend Jobe Delaro who worked for Tony’s security business had sent Cam out of the country. Jobe and Jack had been brothers in the Special Forces, and he would have taken the case himself, but it fit Cam’s specialty so he received the assignment.

Mountville’s successful Labor Day weekend helped Bethany financially through the fall that was typically slimmer. Guests would still come out for the weekends, but until Thanksgiving, she would not have full cabins. She was hoping the holidays would be good so that the steady income kept coming in. As usual, Roscoe would come and go, sometimes working for a construction crew in town, but always showing up when she needed some work done that was too hard for her. During the non-peak seasons, Sally only helped on weekends, leaving Bethany to wash the linens and cleaning which was not time consuming since the rentals were not used as often.

She spent some of her downtime planning for her new venture. Already lining up a wedding planner who loved the idea and would help promote, she met with a local vineyard that had a building large enough to hold receptions.

Jack had someone come in to install the wall and, in two days, it was finished. She had to admit her worries were for naught—it looked great. Now when guests came in to register, they had a large area to sign in, pick up brochures of area attractions, a small bookshelf holding paperbacks to borrow, and behind the registration desk was still the small office. But behind the bookshelf was now a wall, dark paneling to match the original wood keeping the guests from wandering back to what was now Bethany’s area. She gave away the old table and chairs that had sat unused for so long and replaced them with a new, comfortable sofa facing the fireplace. Plans to expand the kitchen upstairs since the small living room up there was no longer needed had been discussed, but she wanted to wait to see how much money the wedding venue would bring in.

She and Jack, initially deciding to see where the relationship would go, had now decided that they were definitely a couple. Settling into a routine, he spent his evenings at Mountville when she could not get away or, when she could, she headed to his place.

The Saints were used to seeing her old sedan sitting in Jack’s driveway and that was fine with them. They all liked her and could see that she was perfect for their boss. And she baked kick-ass desserts, always making enough for the whole group.

The fall leaves were coloring the Blue Ridge Mountains when the Saints gathered again for a meeting in the command center. Cam was still away, and Marc was with him, but the others were opening their tablets with the latest reports. After discussing the various cases they were working on, the topic always came back to the Campus Killer.

“Luke has been narrowing down the field for us to take a look at and we now have, while it is still a large list, it is at least more manageable for you to divvy up,” Jack announced.

Luke began, “The last time we talked with Ms. Kerstig, she said something that stuck with me. It had to do with the knife and how he kills. She said his knife is an extension of himself, not just any weapon that a murderer might grab in an unpremeditated crime of passion.”

Bart queried, “So the knife means something to him and isn’t just a knife that he has lying around?”

“Right. And the cuts are very precise like. Jack reviewed the coroners’ reports, and they all say the wounds are deliberate, not random stabbings.”

“So…?” Chad prompted.

Luke said, “Commercial fishermen have the most handlings with a fish filet knife, but they usually work all year and wouldn’t have opportunities for being on college campuses. Butchers or ones working with preparing fish would have a better chance at moving around. Possibly.” He sighed before adding, “But I still don’t consider them to have jobs that allow them be able to travel much.”

“It could just be a sportsman, a man who enjoys fishing and is used to fileting his own catch,” Blaise added.

“I’ve gone back to see if there were any unsolved murders involving these kinds of cuts and changed the search to remove college campuses. Every serial killer has a first time. A first time when they kill, and subsequent events may follow different patterns. His first time may not have involved a college student.”

Monty leaned in closer, his eyes alight. “So, what’d you find?”

Jack smiled and said, “Maybe the next clue for us to investigate.”

“Almost thirty years ago,” Luke continued, “a young woman was found near the James River. Charlene Polaski. Her body was partially decomposed, but the coroner’s report included that she had been sexually assaulted, and her torso was cut with a very sharp knife. There was no pattern to the cuts, but her neck was also sliced. This was the first murder that I can find like this.”

“Shit,” Marc said, looking at the information on his tablet. “It’s not exactly the same, but it’s sure as shit close.”

Jack agreed, “I’m wondering if she was not the first. She wasn’t a college student and there’s not much about her background other than she’d just graduated from high school and was working for her dad’s company. Which was,” he paused and looked at them, “working for the diesel gas pumps for the commercial fishermen in the area.”

“You want us heading there?” Blaise asked.

Jack nodded, “Yeah. I’m going and I’ll take three of you with me. I’d like us to spread out and gather as much information on that old murder as possible. See if there is a tie into the ones now. Luke, you manage what we send back. Monty, see what you can dig up on the old murder with your Bureau buds. Bart, Blaise, and Chad, that means you go with me.”

Meeting back in the hotel room that night, the four Saints went over their findings. Bart, still grinning from his break-in, had managed to get the victim’s school records as well as her medical records .

“What’d you find out?” Jack queried.

“Well, I found out she terminated a pregnancy a month before she was murdered,” he replied. “Something that was never in the medical examiner’s report.”

Chad said, “That never came up in talking to her former friends who are still in the area either. In fact, once again, the common phrase I heard over and over was what a good girl she was. How sweet she was. Same thing as now.”

Blaise jumped in, “Except for Todd Cramer.” The others looked at him, so he continued. “I talked to a Todd Cramer, a former classmate of hers, who said the same thing at first. Nice girl. But then he said he noticed a change in her senior year. She was working for her dad down at the docks and seemed to get really chummy with a few of the fishermen.”

“Yeah?” Jack prompted.

“He said she was a real looker and started wearing new clothes that were a lot more revealing. He also said he overheard someone mention she had a sugar daddy who would give her things.”

“And he never mentioned this to the police?” Bart growled.

“Didn’t you notice?” Blaise asked. “This community gets most of its money from the docks. You think they’re going to turn on each other?”

“What else did he say? Did he have any idea who she might have been seeing?”

“No, but he did imply perhaps that was because no one ever saw her around town with anyone. ”

The four men looked at each other before all saying, “Married,” at the same time.

Jack, eager for the pieces of the puzzle to begin falling into place, said, “Okay, let’s surmise Charlene started working for her dad’s gas business on the docks and that brought her into daily contact with a bunch of the fishermen. We know she was pretty and had a figure that would make men look. She catches the eye of someone who’s married and begins an affair. She’s just eighteen so that’s another reason for keeping it a secret. She gets pregnant but has to get rid of it.”

“Think that’s who we’re looking for? Her old lover?” Chad asked, but then quickly worked out the ages. “That’d make the man in the mustache not fit the age.”

Jack agreed, “Unless he was real young. But then, he probably wouldn’t be able to buy her things at that age. The wife may have found out but then again, she doesn’t fit the profile, and the age isn’t right, either.”

“What about her family members? Younger brothers? A jilted high school boyfriend?” Blaise added.

Rubbing his hand over his face, Jack said, “Tomorrow, keep digging. I’ll talk to her family, and you divide up the friends some more. Look into anyone who was male, probably teen years, and probably had experience with a fishing filet knife.”

Jack sat the next day in a tiny office cluttered with papers, receipts, an old computer in one corner with a newer laptop balancing precariously on a sheaf of files in another. He studied the man in front of him who seemed agitated and defensive. Charlene’s brother, Isaac Polaski, now the owner of his father’s dock gasoline business, sat behind his desk, glowering.

“What I don’t understand is why after all this time the police are draggin’ up Charlene again. Hell, didn’t seem like we could get anyone interested when it happened.”

“Do you know why that was, Mr. Polaski?” Jack asked.

Shaking his head derisively, he replied, “Charlene was a good girl, hard worker, real sweet to everyone. But no one in this community wanted to believe that it could have been someone from here. The sheriff developed a quick theory that she must have been at the wrong place at the wrong time and some outside drifter got hold of her.” The silence hung for a moment as he continued his thoughts. “Fuckin’ moron. Jesus, I was glad to see him get booted out of office several years afterwards and don’t mind tellin’ you, I spat on his grave about five years ago when the old coot finally died.”

Jack sat quietly, knowing people usually kept talking to fill the silence and he wanted Charlene’s brother to talk.

Isaac continued, “Sweet girl. God, I swear she’d believe anything that anyone told her.” He chuckled at the memory. “I used to say she was the most gullible girl around.”

“Anyone in particular she was interested in?”

Isaac made a face, “Not from here, I don’t think, but hell, you couldn’t keep the men away. I thought dad was an idiot for letting her work down here.” He looked at Jack, an embarrassed expression on his face. “My sister was…um…well, bluntly put, Mr. Bryant, my sister had rather large breasts. My dad was an okay guy, but he wasn’t against using her to get what he wanted.”

Jack continued to sit, waiting for the explanation.

“There was another man who worked the docks who also sold gasoline. There was plenty of business for both, but dad wanted to have the edge. He had Charlene work once she turned eighteen and, well, he encouraged her to wear low cut shirts. It had the desired effect. Our business grew and the other man’s didn’t. I was sixteen and hated how he exploited her, but she seemed to like the attention.”

“Any of the fishermen pay close notice to her? Ask her out? Spend money on her?”

Isaac shook his head. “I don’t know. I was still in high school so I wouldn’t have seen anything during the day.”

“Do you remember any of the names of the fishermen who worked around here from that time? Any records?”

Isaac said, “I only took over about ten years ago and just finally got the business online.” He glanced around the office and said ruefully, “My wife’s been trying to get a lot of the old stuff organized. That’s why it looks like this.” His eyes lit up, “But she did at least get a bunch of old receipts in files by year. You can look at that if you want.”

Jack thanked him and sent a text to Blaise and Chad to meet him there. Isaac left the office, returning to the dockside to work. As soon as the other two joined him, they began combing through old records.

That night, Bart made a clandestine visit to the competing business, gathering the information that Jack had sent him to find. Once again, they met to go over their findings. Finally, Jack thought, the noose is tightening.