She filled a mug with black coffee, then pressed the warm cup to her temple before she sat and opened the first case file from Kansas.
Bryce had been correct. The Kansas murder did not appear to match either the Knoxville or Montana cases and was easy to rule out. Not only did the police suspect the victim’s pimp, but they reported that her clothes had not been stripped off, the remnants of her wallet had been found on the passenger-side floorboard, and there’d been little facial mutilation.
The Knoxville murder victim had been identified as Sarah Cameron. She had been twenty-eight and a Realtor. She had been summoned to one of her listings and had told her boyfriend she would be home by seven. She’d never made it home. Search crews had been dispatched within twenty-four hours, but the cops had focused originally on the boyfriend. Sarah and David Brown had been seen fighting in public several times. However, after several days of questioning David, the cops could not unearth anything tying him to Sarah’s disappearance.
The cops put a trace on Sarah’s phone and alerts on her credit cards. They did get a hit on the phone four days after Sarah vanished, and her credit card was used to purchase gas. The strip mall and gas station were thirty miles west of Nashville, and the cops found the phone in a trash can in the gas station’s men’s room. The phone was wiped clean of prints, and its digital history revealed that whoever had taken the phone had made several nondescript social media posts while traveling to the current location. However, there was no sign of Sarah or her abductor.
Two weeks after Sarah vanished, hikers in the Smoky Mountains near Knoxville found her partly decomposed body near a mountain path. Identification of the remains was made easy because of a bracelet Sarah had been wearing. No suspects were ever arrested.
Sarah’s autopsy report showed she had been murdered thirty-six hours before the discovery of her body, suggesting she had been held for almost two weeks. There were no defensive knife wounds on her hands and forearms, implying she didn’t expect an attack. What caught Ann’s attention was the facial mutilation. The medical examiner wrote, “It’s as if the killer were trying to remove her face.”
This case drew massive media attention. Young and pretty, Sarah had captured the press’s headlines, which focused primarily on the unknown assailant who had held her captive. Some reports tried to link her death to a robbery gone wrong, while others suggested a sex-trafficking ring was responsible. The theories were endless; however, the police never found the location where she had been held or dug up any substantial leads on her killer.
Ann sat back in her chair, wondering if the killer had been paying attention to these news articles and enjoying the attention.
She reread the Knoxville file and discovered a small detail she had missed the first time. Polaroid paper had been found near the body, but no fingerprints had been pulled.
The delay between Sarah’s kidnapping and murder fit the profile of a first-time killer. She guessed murder had not been on this killer’s mind initially. Maybe the killer was stalking her. Maybe he got too close. Maybe she threatened to cause trouble. Whatever happened, the killer knew she could not be let free, so Sarah had been taken somewhere until the killer found the resolve to carry out his fantasy.
She rose and made her way to Bryce’s office. She found him deep in thought behind his desk, phone pressed to his ear. When he saw her, he waved her inside.
As he spoke to someone about a highway patrol matter, she had a moment to look at the wall where he displayed several service awards and a few military citations. There was also a picture of him with a group of men wearing fatigues, thick beards, and full military gear. She guessed by the terrain that it was Afghanistan.
“That was taken about fifteen years ago,” Bryce said, rising.
She looked quickly away, as if she had been caught staring, which was exactly what she had been doing. “How old were you?”
“Twenty-four. A lifetime ago.”
Fifteen years ago, she’d been a freshman in college. And by twenty-four she was a new mother trying to balance life with a husband, toddler, and a master’s degree program.
“You miss it?” she asked.
“Sometimes. But less and less.” He slid his hand into his pocket. “Did you find anything?”
“Wondering if you had that Polaroid paper tested for prints.”
“It’s at the lab now. I called an hour ago, and it’s not looking good. The prints are badly smudged, but the techs are taking another pass at it.”
“The Knoxville murder file noted that Polaroid paper was found near the body’s location.”
“Really? I haven’t had a chance to read the file in great detail.”
“If I’d not found the picture near the Anaconda scene, I would have missed it.”
“What about the other case?”
“I would say it’s not related. Too many inconsistencies, and the police believe they have a suspect.”
“Your conclusion?” He sat on the edge of his desk and folded his arms over his chest.
She felt the full weight of his attention as she recapped her theories about the Knoxville case. “Also, Sarah Cameron’s quick identification and local prominence led to wide media coverage. Maybe the explosive scrutiny was overwhelming.”
“It’s also exhilarating to be on the knife’s edge,” he said. “And it’s no fun if there’s no one to admire your masterpiece. Which sets up the current scenario. He sets them on fire so everyone knows exactly where they are but not who they are.”
“Perhaps the victims share a connection he doesn’t want us to know about,” Ann said.
“But I now have Sarah Cameron’s name.”
“Find out about the people who appeared in her life shortly before her death. Also talk to the boyfriend. He might know something,” Ann said.
“Sarah Cameron was attractive, and the woman in the picture you found is also good looking. I’ll wager the same on the woman in Helena. Maybe he’s not taking their identity when he mutilates them. His last act is simply to make them ugly.”
“Maybe,” Ann said.
Bryce reached for his phone and dialed. “This is Sergeant McCabe. What’s the status of those prints?” He frowned. “Only a partial. It’s something.” He ended the call. “The partial is being run through AFIS. With luck we’ll get some kind of hit.”
She smoothed her hands over her pants. “Focus on Sarah Cameron.”
Bryce rose. “Ann, what kind of monster are we dealing with? Is this guy a sociopath or psychopath?”
“Both share traits. They both lie and lack remorse for the feelings of others. A sociopath or someone with antisocial behavior tends to be impulsive and irresponsible. But this killer is organized. And so far, he has not left behind any substantial forensic evidence, which takes planning and forethought. That leads me to believe we’re dealing with a psychopath. And for the record, both types of offenders represent less than five percent of the general population. In prison the rate is closer to sixty percent.”
“What are we looking for in this killer?” Bryce asked.
“This person is going to be charming, manipulative, callous, and he’ll require lots of stimulation mentally and physically.” She drew in a breath. “They’re harder to spot than you might imagine.”