Page 23 of So Savage (Faith Bold #21)

“We’re going to have a problem with James in a little bit,” Marcus told Faith. “We can hold him on vagrancy charges for twenty-four hours, but then we have to let him go. The DA isn’t too keen on prosecuting people for being poor, and we don’t have nearly enough to charge him with the murders yet.”

Faith steepled her fingers and brought her hands in front of her face. “Have your officers found any sign of darts or tranquilizers at the property?”

“None. They still have rubble to dig through, but between you and me, I don’t think it’s likely that he has dart guns and sedatives buried under the rubble.”

“Actually, that’s exactly where I’d hide the murder weapon if I were him, but I agree with you. I don’t think he’s the murderer.”

Marcus sighed and took the seat next to Faith. “Well, I didn’t want to say it, but I think you’re right. We’re barking up the wrong tree here.” He glanced at Turk. “No offense.”

Turk cocked his head, and Faith reached down to scratch behind his ears. Turk’s eyes half-closed and he made a sound that reminded Faith a lot of a cat’s purr. She half-smiled at that, but she was too distracted to fully appreciate the irony.

“We’re missing something,” she said. “We’ve been operating on the assumption that this killer hates K-9 handlers.”

“You don’t think he does?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know anymore. We’ve talked to three people who’ve had good reason to hate our victims, but they turned out not to be our killers.”

“Well, one of them is a stage four cancer patient who can barely leave his own bed, and one of them is a homeless person who probably can’t afford the murder weapons used and doesn’t have a way to transport himself to the crime scenes.”

“And one of them is a violent gangster with dart guns and enough tranquilizer to sedate every dog in Duluth,” Faith countered, “but the most he did was harass people on the phone.”

“So we’re looking for someone brave enough or unhinged enough to act,” Marcus said. “You have to be pretty stupid or pretty desperate to think you can get away with murder.”

“Or you have to have nothing left to lose,” Faith added. “That’s why we suspected James in the first place.”

That thought stuck in her head. Nothing left to lose. That seemed very important to her, but she wasn’t sure why.

She got to her feet and started pacing. “The consistency in all of these crime scenes is that the dogs are sedated first and left unharmed. There’s a practical reason for sedating the dogs, but not for leaving them unharmed.”

“It could just be that he didn’t need to kill the dogs. He’s murdering people, not animals, and if he has darts that make very little noise, why use bullets that make a lot of noise?”

“That’s a good point,” Faith said, “but I don’t think it’s the whole story. Dr. Parker said that the dose of anesthetic was enough that it saved the dogs’ lives because their metabolism was slowed so much that they didn’t freeze to death. The line between essentially hibernating a dog and killing it can’t be very thick.”

“So you think the killer intentionally calculated the dose to keep the dogs alive.”

She nodded. “I do. I mentioned that earlier, but I was distracted by the other factors in the case. I think I should have paid more attention to that.”

“Where are you going with this?” Marcus asked. “Not trying to be rude, just trying to follow.”

“Yeah, I understand.” She crossed her arms and bit her lip softly. “I think the killer lost his dog. I think he was a former handler himself, and he’s angry because his dog died, and the victims’ dogs survived.”

“That’s the hypothesis that led us to Eric Davidson, and that was a dead end,” Marcus reminded her.

“Eric Davidson was a dead end. I don’t think the hypothesis was a dead end. I think we need to look for other former handlers who could have a vendetta against current handlers.”

“That’s casting an awfully wide net,” Marcus cautioned.

“Yes, but I think our biggest mistake has been trying to fish with a rod and a hook when we need to be casting a net. That’s another thought I had earlier that I forgot about the moment we found a lead.”

She felt a touch of irritation with herself. She really wasn’t on her A-game right now. She needed Michael here to bounce ideas off of her or at least bounce her own ideas back at her in a different way so she could see the problem from all sides.

So what would Michael say? If you told him that you needed to find a handler with a vendetta against current handlers, what would he tell you?

“He’d probably just say to look through military databases for every handler who’d lost a dog within the past year and narrow those down to anyone who’d reacted badly to the loss or expressed vitriol toward survivors.”

“What?” Marcus asked.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about what my partner would say.” She turned to him. “Let’s get a list of every military K9 handler who lost a dog within the past year and then narrow it down to everyone who reacted exceptionally poorly. Bonus points if they threatened violence.”

“So look for every Eric Davidson, not just one.”

“Yes. Get your officers to help. I want names, and I want them interrogated.”

Marcus shrugged. “Well, hell, if nothing else, it’ll keep them off the streets. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Sometimes the difference between life and death is a little bit of luck.” She grimaced. “I hate that I said that.”

“You and me both. Doesn’t make it untrue.”

***

As the afternoon reached evening, Faith was reminded of the danger of casting a wide net. You tended to catch a lot of fish. Great if you were a fisherman, not so great if you were a detective who just needed to find one particular fish.

There were twelve current and former military K9 handlers in the Duluth area who had recently lost dogs in the field. Of those, nine had shown a severe emotional reaction. That wasn’t horribly excessive, and the police department would be able to interview them all over the course of the next day, but Faith couldn’t avoid the feeling that she was still missing something, that one little thing that would clear away the fog and tell her exactly who their killer was.

“Should we get started?” Marcus asked.

They were in his office, looking at the list Faith had requested on his computer screen. Faith shook her head softly but said, “Yes. Have your officers question them.”

“You said yes, but you shook your head no.”

She sighed. “It’s a hunch. I think we’re missing something.”

“A hunch is normally when you think you know something, not when you think you don’t know something.”

“Thank you, Marcus,” she said drily. “That’s very helpful.”

She started pacing the office, but it was a much smaller room than the conference room from before, so she gave up and sat down again a moment later. “This killer would be grieving the loss of his dog and envious of those who still have their dogs. But he would also feel that it’s unfair. There would be a component of justice to it.”

“Like you don’t get your dog if I can’t have mine?”

“That’s part of it, but I think there’s more. I think our killer suffered more than just the loss of his dog.” The idea coalesced in her brain until it was clear and very convincing. “I think we need to look for handlers who lost their dogs and were blamed for it. I think the killer feels that he was mistreated, not just his dog. That could be why he goes out of his way to keep the dogs alive. It could be that he just loves dogs, but I think there’s more to it. I think he needs to prove to himself that he can kill his victims without endangering their dogs.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You might be onto something there. Let me narrow down the search a little and see what we get.”

His fingers tapped on the keys while Faith finished her second cup of coffee. She looked at Turk, who sat in the corner and watched, waiting to be told it was time to act on whatever research the humans were doing.

How would she feel if she lost him in the field? What if she lost him because of a foolish order from a superior?

She’d answered this question before. She’d kill to save his life, but she wouldn’t kill to avenge him. That would serve no purpose. She’d bring the killer to justice and ignore the voice in her head that said to tear him limb from limb.

She wouldn’t go after handlers, though. She couldn’t relate to that. But she could understand it. It was like sabotaging your opponents in a sports competition when it was favoritism on the part of the judges or poor decisions from your coaches that caused you to lose. It was like a sibling acting out against the favorite child because he felt unfairly treated.

That was it. That was the key. The motive wasn’t hatred for the handlers, it was hatred for the people who punished him but let other handlers go free. He was projecting his hurt onto the wrong target.

“Got someone,” Marcus said.

“Who?”

“Staff Sergeant Peter Kane, USMC. He was discharged nine months ago after a mission in Syria. He lost his dog to an ambush, and he was blamed for not properly assessing the threat before sending his dog into the building. According to the records, when he heard that judgment, he got into a verbal and then a physical altercation with his company commander. The officer in question was left with a broken jaw and a broken clavicle.”

Faith nodded. “Beating your CO to pieces. Yeah, that’ll do it. Any connection to our victims?”

“Wouldn’t you know it,” Marcus said with a grin. “The chief NCO of the K9 component was Master Sergeant Thomas Reeves.”

“That’s why he was the first victim,” Faith said. “And also why there was more time between him and the second victim. This started as a simple revenge, and when that didn’t make him feel better, he escalated.”

She was excited now. She knew she was jumping to a lot of conclusions, but this one felt right. The seed of doubt she felt with the others was nowhere to be found now. “Let’s go get him. Do we have an address?”

“I’m punching it into the GPS right now.”

“Boo-yah.” She got to her feet. “Come on, Turk. Let’s go catch a bad guy.”

Turk barked enthusiastically, Faith’s excitement inspiring him. The three of them left the office at a jog, eager to finally put this to bed.

The sun set just as they got into Marcus’s cruiser. Faith’s excitement was tempered by a shiver.

They had to hurry. When night fell, the hunter they were chasing would stalk his prey once more.