Kiss of Death (24 page)

Tuesday, 11:30 a.m.

B
ack at the office I find myself putting the brakes on in terms of drafting the profile. In many ways it will only formalize the opinions I've already expressed, but I can't deny the veil of doubt that is forming. What if Desiree
is
involved? Or Carrington? My confidence that Sherry was killed at the hands of a vampire cult could be an example of one of the dangers law-enforcement investigators constantly face: tunnel vision.

And Darren…
he
seems to think I'm too close. What if he's right?

Eventually I decide to hold off—I need more evidence before I deliver an official FBI profile to the LAPD. I've got my reputation and the Bureau's to think of. Instead of the profile, I work on a new to-do list. I need to go over everything we've got to date—crime scene photos, interviews, the works. Then I need to reestablish contact with Damien Winters and investigate him more thoroughly, and the same for the rogue vampires. And I have to give Desiree some serious thought, too.

But first, I'm going to use the other talent I bring to a murder case—my ability to experience visions. I've
already tried with Sherry, so this time I focus on Anton Ward, Damien Winters and the other persons of interest: Desiree Jones, James Logan, Patricia Peters, Jake Oliva and Jon Eriksson. While I feel Ward is innocent, I accept that my judgment may be flawed.

In a meeting room, I flick through the photos of Damien Winters to the largest image we have of Anton Ward. I study the photo and focus on my relaxation techniques. I keep perfectly still and concentrate on the rhythmic sound and motion of my breathing and my heartbeat. Within a few minutes the first wave of light-headedness hits me.

 

Hooded figures stand in a circle, chanting. The area is dark, except for the flickering candles that each person is bowed over.

One of the hooded figures steps forward and starts talking about blood and its sacred nature.

 

I'm not sure whether to feel vindicated that my thoughts on this case are right, or to feel even more confused. Just when I was starting to question my instincts, my gift shows me this. Then again, Ward has admitted that their blood rituals take place in a circle, so I could have just seen one of those rituals. I mean, I didn't actually see or feel Sherry. I think back to the vision and realize I was in the center of the circle. Normally I feel what the person in my vision is feeling, and I didn't feel anything. I take a deep breath, ready to start the process again in the hope of seeing more, or something different. I've only taken a few deep, slow breaths when I notice my BlackBerry, which is set to silent, lighting up with an incoming call. After a few seconds' hesitation I pick up.

“Agent Anderson.”

“Anderson, it's Sloan.” Her voice is tight. “We've got another body in Topanga State Park.”

“What? Same site as Sherry?”

“This one's off the Temescal Canyon Trail rather than the Temescal Ridge Trail, but only about half a mile from the first body. Looks like you were right, Anderson. About the vamps.”

“To be honest, I was starting to think I was barking up the wrong tree,” I admit. “That maybe Desiree
was
our killer.”

“Well, at least we know where to put our resources now.”

“Uh-huh. Is the body fresh?”

“Not sure yet. The vic was found by a man walking his dog. We're on our way there now…do you want a ride?”

“Sure.”

“See you in ten.”

I quickly gather up the pages and move back to my desk, stuffing the file into my briefcase. Before I head down to the Federal Building's entrance, I jump online and log in to Veronica's Facebook and MySpace pages. On both of them I update my status with
Can't wait until Ruin on Friday night…too far away!
before sending Damien Winters a Facebook message.
Did you get out of your thing tonight?
He'd talked about maybe catching up tonight if he could get out of his prior engagement, and with a second body I'm hoping to move that along.

With the bait laid, I sync my BlackBerry with my laptop and hightail it down to meet Carey and Sloan. In the end, they're pulling up just as I make my way down the few steps outside.

I jump in the back. “Hi.”

Sloan gives me a nod and Carey twists around in his seat. “Hey, Anderson.”

“Any more news?” I buckle my seat belt.

“So far we've only got a park ranger and a uniformed officer on site. I've called in forensics and the coroner's office but I'd say we'll beat them there.”

“You got a contact number for the ranger?” I ask.

“Sure.”

“Can you call ahead and organize a map for us?”

“You're looking for a pattern?” Sloan glances at me in the rearview mirror.

“Uh-huh. There may be more bodies waiting for us in the park.” Sometimes crime scenes or body dump sites can form a pattern that is somehow relevant or important to the killer. I've seen it before, and it's always worthwhile to look for geographical patterns when you're working a serial-killer case.

Sloan takes a breath, about to say something, but then her phone rings.

“Sloan.” Her tone's not exactly friendly, but it rarely is—unless she's concentrating real hard.

“Okay, I'll put you on Speaker.” Sloan presses a button on her mobile and places the phone on the center console. “I'm with Detective Carey and Special Agent Anderson from the Bureau, too.”

“Hey, guys. It's Sam Gold here.” Gold is the head of DNA at the county lab.

“Hi, Sam. You're ringing us, that's good news.”

“Maybe it's a social call.”

I don't know if many people would call Sloan socially, but I keep my mouth shut.

“Come on, Gold. Spill it.” Sloan's impatient.

“We've finished the DNA profile from the semen found in your vampire vic.” He chuckles. “Vampires…that's a new one, even for this city.”

“Tell me about it.” Sloan rolls her eyes. “Although it looks like the bastards have struck again.”

“Oh, shoot. Sorry.” Gold's serious now. “The DNA is a match for the sample you gave us, Todd Fischer.”

The result supports Todd Fischer's account of the evening, and with a second body I doubt Sloan will be putting much more legwork into Fischer.

“Any DNA on the samples Frost sent you from the neck wound?” Sloan asks.

“Next on the list.”

“Any chance you can hurry it along?” Sloan manages a pleasant tone. “Now that we've probably got a second vic and all.”

“I'll do my best.”

“Thanks, Gold.”

We say goodbye and hang up.

We pull up at Temescal Canyon Gateway Park and one of the uniforms has already arrived and set up at the park's entrance.

Sloan rolls up next to him and puts her window down, identifying herself for the cop. “How long you been here?”

“Only about five minutes, ma'am. My partner's on point at the bottom of the trail and you've got another two uniforms up there.” He glances farther into the park. “We weren't sure if you wanted the whole park cleared of the public or not.”

Sloan shakes her head. “Let's not make too big a scene. Besides, it's not that busy, is it?”

“No, ma'am.”

“If anyone comes in, tell them the Temescal Canyon Trail is closed for the moment, but don't disclose any other details.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He gives her a courteous nod. “And you asked for a map?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It's waiting for you at the camp store as you go in.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Once again we park in the staff-only section of the park just on the other side of the camp store. I run in and
grab the map and catch up with Carey and Sloan. We take a path farther to the right than the Temescal Ridge Trail, but the vegetation and scenery is similar. After we've hiked for about three-quarters of a mile or so, we come to a sign that says No Dogs Past This Point. I guess whoever discovered the victim's body wasn't observing the park's rules.

Fifteen minutes later we see a park ranger talking to a man with a dog. They look up as we approach.

The ranger walks toward us. “Are you…?”

Sloan takes out her ID. “LAPD and FBI.”

The ranger checks the ID and gives a smile of relief. “Great. This is Burt Shaw, who discovered the body, and your uniformed officer is with the…remains. Did you get your map?”

“Yes, thanks.” I take it out of my jacket pocket. “I'd like to talk to you about this location and the one from our previous body. But first, the victim?”

He nods. “Right this way.”

Sloan follows the ranger and directs Carey to stay with Burt Shaw and question him. It's unlikely his involvement extends beyond being an innocent bystander, but everyone who inserts themselves one way or another into an investigation must be looked at.

The ranger leads the way through much more dense vegetation than what we experienced near Sherry's body, but eventually we come to a small clearing. While Sherry's body was in a large open space, this clearing is only slightly bigger than a residential bathroom. And it looks like a few people squeezed into the small area, because some of the shrubs on the perimeter have been bent back.

Lying in the center of the clearing is a naked woman. The corpse seems fresh, with no obvious signs of the decomposition process. She was definitely murdered re
cently. The girl's got dark red hair, dyed, and is much more curvaceous than Sherry.

 

I instantly get a flash of her dressed in Goth clothes of the more revealing variety—fishnets, boots and a black velvet corset.

 

Her eyes are open and her hair is matted and covered in leaves. Her head is turned slightly to one side, giving us a clear view of two puncture marks on her neck. And just like Sherry, she's got defensive-looking wounds on her forearms and she's also got several scratches on her legs.

I move closer. “The makeup's been removed again.”

“You think that's the same as before?” Sloan hovers next to me.

I nod. “I'd say it was removed with her clothes, as a symbolism of the sacrifice's purity.” With a second body, a second murder, I'm more sure of this interpretation.

“It also makes it hard for us to associate her with the Goth world. Maybe it's a ploy to hide her identity or her associations.”

Sloan's right—there could also be a practical aspect of removing the makeup.

The girl looks to be around five-seven and about 175 to 195 pounds. No tattoos—at least on her front—and no other distinguishing marks. I'd peg her age at anywhere between seventeen and twenty-two. The earth has been disturbed around her body, with many scuff marks but no clear footprints.

Noise and movement farther down the track signal the arrival of more law enforcement, most likely the Forensics team. Sloan heads back to the trail, seconding the uniformed officer and leaving me with the body.

As soon as their backs are turned I drop to my haunches and study the girl before closing my eyes.

 

I'm chasing a woman through scrub. She lets out a scream before tripping over a rock and hitting her head. She drops to the ground.

Leaning over the girl, I roll her onto her back and take her pulse. She's still alive.

 

I nearly lose my balance as I come out of the vision, but manage to stop myself from toppling over. The thing that strikes me the most about the vision is that the woman was not Sherry or this victim. The girl I was chasing had shoulder-length black hair. I know it could have been a wig, but she was also naked and it looks like the killers remove everything from the victim. I've got to assume my vision was of another victim. Past or future? Standing up, I replay the images again, this time concentrating on the emotions of the perpetrator, of the person chasing her. The chase was exciting, and the person was also happy the girl was alive after she hit her head. I guess he wanted to kill her himself.

It's the crime-scene photographer who I see first, leading the way and snapping occasionally as he makes a course through the brush. Sloan directs him to the body and the outskirts of the small clearing, asking him to take photos of any footprints and the surrounding brush, too. She also gets people scouring those plants, looking for any trace evidence.

“Belinda Frost is only a few minutes away.”

“Great,” I say. “I'm going to talk to the ranger about this map.” Carefully making my way out of the immediate crime scene, I head for the ranger.

He's talking to Carey when I come up beside them.

“I guess it was lucky he had the dog, huh?” The ranger leans into one leg, hands on both hips. It may have been lucky, but he's obviously not impressed.

“Guess so.” Carey looks up. “Agent Anderson. You want to talk about the map?”

“Yup.” I unfold it, but it's awkward with nothing to lean it on. “Whereabouts is the body on this map?”

The ranger takes the map from me and after less than thirty seconds he points to a spot. “Roughly here.”

I make an X on the map. The area he's pointed out is only just on the Topanga State Park side of the boundary that separates Topanga State Park from Temescal Gateway Park. Is it significant that Sherry's body was also found so close to the parks' boundaries? Probably not.

“And Sherry's body? The victim we found on Sunday?”

Again he studies the map and marks the area. It'll probably be impossible to see any sort of pattern with only two murders, but if we find more bodies, this map could become a key element in the investigation or the prosecution of the case. And who knows, maybe some of our analysts will be able to speculate on some sort of pattern even with only two points of reference.