"When I bring in any suspects, I'll be sure to ask them to drop their pants for a thorough inspection," Jacob said sarcastically.
"Yeah, you do that," Dallas replied. "Look, I've got to go. I need to check on Genny and make sure she's all right."
"Hey, ask her if she thinks she can narrow down the area where he dumped the body."
"I will, but not right now. She's too exhausted to be of any help to you. Come by later this morning, after she's had a chance to rest for a while."
After shoving his cell phone back into its belt holster, Jacob slammed his hands down on the steering wheel. Two new murders. One body in the morgue, the other buried in a watery grave. And a killer on the loose. Somebody who got his jollies by balling an unconscious woman, then killing her immediately afterward. A real sicko who had just killed a young, redheaded prostitute.
After being up all night and exhausting every possible source to find Becky Olmstead, Jacob resigned himself to the possibility that the teenage prostitute was the redhead Genny had seen in her visions. If that was the case, her body could be in one of a dozen different locations. Anywhere there was a creek, a stream, a lake or a river. The body might never turn up, so his only hope of capturing her killer might be through solving the Jeremy Timmons murder.
Jacob parked his truck in the driveway, got out, went to the back door and knocked.
Dallas opened the door immediately and ushered him into the kitchen.
"You look beat. Want a cup of coffee?" Dallas asked.
Jacob chuckled. "I've drunk a couple of pots during the night, but if you'll throw in so-me bacon, eggs and biscuits, I'll-"
"I fixed breakfast this morning. Scrambled eggs and toast. Take it or leave it."
Jacob removed his suede jacket and Stetson, hung them on the rack by the door and sat at the table. "How's Genny feeling this morning?"
"She's asleep. Finally. And I don't want to wake her."
Dallas poured coffee into a Blue Willow cup and set it down on the table in front of Jacob.
"The Olmstead girl hasn't shown up," Jacob said.
"Hm-mm." Dallas removed the lid from the skillet on the stove and spooned scrambled eggs onto a Blue Willow plate. He undid the aluminum foil encasing a stack of buttered toast, removed four slices and placed them on the plate, then handed it to Jacob.
"I've got one definite murder and a second possible one. I don't know for sure if the two are related, but my gut instincts tell me they are. I think whoever killed Timmons, killed the Olmstead girl. Why, I don't know. If I knew that, maybe I could figure out who our killer is."
Dallas handed Jacob a knife, a fork and a spoon, then nodded to the two jars of jelly flanked by the salt and pepper shakers in the center of the table. "Strawberry and grape.
Take your pick." Dallas poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and sat across from Jacob.
"You're certainly earning your stripes the hard way. Since being elected sheriff, you've been faced with a serial killer who almost murdered our Genny, then before the dust settled, you had to deal with a female psycho who tortured her victims to death. And now, just when you thought things were settling down, you've got one-probably two-new murders to solve. And all of this during your first year on the job."
Jacob spread grape jelly onto the four slices of toast "Two murders are bad enough, but I'll gladly take two isolated murder cases over a series of murders where the body count keeps piling up."
"I hope you're right about these being two isolated murders. It could be that some dissatisfied John did away with Timmons and Becky Olmstead. Either that or Timmons and his girls were somehow involved with drugs. Not a far stretch, considering their line of business." Dallas eyed Jacob over the rim of his cup as he lifted it to his mouth.
Jacob sighed heavily. "But? Just say it. I know you think there's more to the murders."
"A dissatisfied John who's a bit of a nutcase or an angry drug dealer doesn't customa-rily strangle his victims. With those types, a gun is usually the weapon of choice. A quick, clean kill."
"Strangling a person is far more personal, right?" Jacob speared his scrambled eggs and shoved a forkful into his mouth.
Dallas nodded. "Most of the time. I'd look for a jealous lover. Or…"
"Or?"
"Or strangulation could be part of a serial killer's calling card."
Jacob swallowed. "Damn!"
"I didn't say I think we're dealing with another serial killer, but you need to keep an open mind. The type of murder Genny witnessed in her vision was ritualistic. I don't think this killer is a novice."
"We haven't had any murders in Cherokee County similar to the one Genny saw in her vision. Not while I've been sheriff and none that I can recall."
"It could be his first kill in Cherokee County. The other women he's murdered could have lived in neighboring counties, even other states."
"If this is a serial killer and the redhead was his victim, then why would he kill Timmons?" Jacob knew the answer before Dallas replied. It was the only logical explanation.
"To keep Timmons from identifying him. If Timmons set the guy up with one of his girls and she came up missing, then Timmons could ID the guy."
"Man, I hope you're wrong on this one, but you're probably not." Jacob wolfed down the rest of his eggs, polished off the three pieces of toast and washed it all down with coffee.
"I realize that without a body, we can't be certain Becky Olmstead is dead," Dallas sa-id. "But if we had a picture of her, we'd know if she was the woman Genny saw being strangled. If she is, then unless she shows up, you can at the very least consider her a missing person."
"I have a photo of Becky." Jacob glanced at his suede jacket on the rack by the back door. "Her mother gave me a wallet size of the girl's senior picture. I'd like Genny to take a look at it."
"Yeah. Good. As soon as Genny wakes, we'll show it to her," Dallas said. "In the meantime, why don't we make some phone calls and see if there have been any murders in neighboring counties with the same MO as the one Genny saw in her vision. We'll start with Sevier, Knox, Blount and Loudon."
"I'll take Sevier and Loudon," Jacob said. "I know the sheriffs of both counties."
"Okay. I'll take Knox and Blount."
Jacob had learned a great deal about solving crimes and hunting down criminals from Dallas, who was a former FBI agent. The two of them had become good friends since they first met back in January. They found out, on that very first case, that they worked well together. Jacob had the greatest respect for Genny's husband.
When Farlan MacKinnon had suggested Jacob run for sheriff after he took an early retirement from the Navy and left behind his career as a SEAL, he had been reluctant. After all, his background was as a warrior, not a lawman. But old man MacKinnon and a few other politically minded citizens had persuaded him to run. No one had been more surprised then he when he'd won by a landslide. He'd entered office believing he could do the job since Cherokee County wasn't exactly a hotbed of criminal activity. He should have known that things would change-for the worse-not long after he was elected.
"Let's go over the basic facts of Genny's vision and see if we can put together our killer's MO," Jacob said. "If he does turn out to be a serial killer."
"Let's hear it," Dallas said.
"Okay. He strangles his victims with a black braided ribbon. He kills redheads." Jacob shook his head. "Not just redheads, but redheaded prostitutes or possibly women he per-ceives as whores."
"Go on."
"Moments before he kills a woman, he screws her. Then he dumps her body in the-"
Jacob huffed. "Damn, why didn't I think of it sooner? A prostitute's body was fished out of the Tennessee River near Loudon just a few days ago."
"You're right. I remember reading about it or hearing about it." Dallas nodded to the wall phone. "We'll call the Loudon County sheriff first and find out if their victim was strangled with a black ribbon. And if she was sexually assaulted. If she was, then-"
"Then the odds are we have another serial killer on our hands."
Fifteen minutes later, just as Jacob got off the phone with Loudon County Sheriff Whit Ezell, Genny walked into the kitchen and went straight to Jacob. She placed her hand over his heart and the two exchanged a silent understanding.
"The man who killed this young woman has killed before, and he will kill again,"
Genny said, her voice a mere whisper.
Dallas came up behind his wife, but didn't touch her. "Did you have another vision?"
She shook her head. "Not exactly a vision. It was more a strong feeling than anything else. I sensed great sorrow. The sorrow of more than one woman. It was such tremendous sadness that it had to come from numerous souls."
"Are you all right?" Dallas turned Genny to him and skimmed his fingertips lovingly over her face.
She offered Dallas a fragile smile and took his hand. "I'm fine. Let's sit down."
Dallas quickly assisted Genny in sitting at the table. After preparing her a cup of hot tea, he sat beside her and then turned to Jacob. "Fill us in on what Sheriff Ezell had to say."
Jacob joined them at the table. "At first he wasn't too thrilled to be disturbed on a Sunday morning."
"I'll bet he wasn't." Dallas grinned.
"Who is Sheriff Ezell and why did you call him?" Genny held the cup to her lips, then took a sip and sighed.
"He's the sheriff over in Loudon County," Jacob replied. "They found a prostitute's body in the river over near the dam a couple of days ago and-"
"You and Dallas thought perhaps that murder was connected to the one I saw in my vision." Genny completed his sentence for him.
Both Dallas and Jacob nodded, then Jacob said, "The woman they found in the river was identified as Kat Baker, a Knoxville call girl. She'd been missing less than a week."
"Did she have red hair?" Genny asked.
"Yeah. Dyed red. But regardless of that fact, technically she was a redhead."
"What about the cause of death?" Dallas asked.
"Strangulation." Jacob looked from Dallas to Genny. "They found a black braided ribbon knotted around her neck."
Genny gasped.
Dallas grunted. "Same MO as the killer in Genny's dream."
"Maybe I was seeing something that had already happened," Genny said. "It could be that the woman I saw was this Kat Baker."
"Possibly," Jacob replied. "But I'd lay odds that the woman you saw was Becky Olmstead, our missing Cherokee Pointe prostitute."
"Let's get busy making some phone calls to other police and sheriff's departments to see if Kat Baker's murder was an isolated incident." Dallas glanced at Genny. "I want you to eat something, then rest for a while. And under no circumstances are you to do anything without me. Understand?"
Genny reached over and patted Dallas's hand. "I understand."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Jacob emitted a closed-mouth chuckle. "I'm glad to see she finally listens to somebody.
Whenever Jazzy or I warned her to take things easy, not to delve too deeply or try to connect to a killer's mind, she didn't pay any attention to us."
"I paid attention," Genny corrected him. "It's just that occasionally I knew what had to be done and did it."
Jacob's cell phone rang. Genny jerked nervously. Standing quickly, Jacob pulled the cell phone from his belt clip and responded.
"Butler here."
"Sheriff, it's possible Becky Olmstead's body has been found," Deputy Bobby Joe Har-te said. "A couple of fishermen up at Douglas Lake pulled a woman's body out of the lake about two hours ago."
"Do we have any details?"
"Sketchy. Young female. Apparently the body's pretty fresh."
"Do we have a number for Sheriff Floyd?
"Yeah."
"Give it to me. I'll get in touch with Noland and see what I can find out." Jacob undid the snap on his shirt pocket, retrieved a small notepad and pen and hurriedly jotted down the number. "Thanks."
As soon as Jacob returned his cell phone to the belt clip, he looked over at Dallas. "A couple of fishermen pulled a woman's body out of Douglas Lake this morning. It could be Becky Olmstead."
Both men glanced at Genny.
"I can see if I can pick up anything," she said.
"Maybe you shouldn't." Dallas frowned. "You're already exhausted."
"I won't go in very deep." She closed her eyes and meditated for several minutes.
Taking both of her hands in his, Dallas watched her protectively. Jacob went over and pulled the photo of Becky Olmstead out of his coat pocket, then walked out of the kitchen and onto the screened back porch. After slipping the wallet-size picture in his shirt pocket, he dialed Sheriff Floyd's number. By the time he went through several deputies and actually had the sheriff on the phone, Dallas eased open the back door and the two men made eye contact.
"Genny says she's certain the woman they found in Douglas Lake is the woman from her vision."
Jacob nodded, then pulled Becky's photo from his pocket and handed it to Dallas. "Ask her if this is the woman."
Dallas took the high school picture and went back into the kitchen. Jacob focused on his phone call.
"Sheriff Floyd, this is Sheriff Jacob Butler over in Cherokee County. I understand you've got a brand-new homicide case."
"Yeah, we do. What's your interest?"
"We've got a missing woman from Cherokee Pointe. Been missing since last night.
She's a young prostitute whose pimp was found murdered. Strangled to death."
"Give me a description."
"Like I said, young. Red hair. About five-six. Slender."
"That fits our wet floater's general description. You got someone who can ID the body?
Although our coroner says the body probably hasn't been in the water more than ten or twelve hours, she's not a pretty sight."
"Our girl's name is Becky Olmstead. She has a mother and stepfather." Jacob cleared his throat. "On a strictly confidential basis, tell me how she died?"
"She could have drowned, but I figure she was strangled first and then dumped in the lake," Sheriff Floyd replied.