Page 26 of Unhinged Cain

I ran my thumb across my lower lip as I thought. “No, I don’t think so. These types of dumps have been going on for a few years.”

I slowly stood and walked around the girl’s forms that practically glowed under the lamps. “We have too many bodies that could be the same serial for him to have only been out of prison for a short time. I’m not sure yet but the lips sewn together is too deliberate not to mean something,” I said, pointing to the matted hair. “And why are they pristine except for their hair and faces?”

Looking around, I spotted a forensic team member taking photographs and made my way over. The woman bent over to take a photograph. She stood up straight and scowled before taking in the outfit. I peeked at her name tag before speaking. “Ann, What can you tell me?”

Ann lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I can’t tell you much. The tire tread is a standard ATV mark, and tens of thousands of them are made and used on these trails every year.” She pointed to the strange drag pattern. “Now that is more interesting but not very helpful.”

“What is it,” Hanson asked before I could.

“It’s the mark from their hair dragging on the ground.” Ann pointed to the marked spot in the mud. “We already followed the trail that way as far as we could, but we lost it once we got to the paved road.”

“So, they were on the back of an ATV with their heads dragging on the ground,” I asked and looked back to the girls. Once more, the MO for this serial was all over the place.

“No, just their hair. The trail was so heavy at this point because the hair collected mud, leaves, and branches the further the person drove. It was laying behind the four-wheeler like a horse’s tail.”

Hanson scribbled the notes down and then scratched his chin. “Wouldn’t that be an odd position to have two bodies in that you’re trying to hide?”

Ann nodded. “For the bodies to arrive the way they have, they must have been wrapped in some sort of protection except their heads. Based on the length of their hair and the average height of an ATV, they would need to be hanging over the back end with their legs straddling the driver.” Ann bent over as she tried to demonstrate the position.

“So, let me get this straight. Whoever this killer is, drove with two naked girls’ legs wrapped around him as he drove?”

“Essentially, yes,” Ann replied.

“What the fuck?” Hanson mumbled. For once, I seconded his sentiment.

I stepped away to once more go and stare at the faces of the two girls that could easily have been Kirby. They were that close in age. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“What?”

I looked over at Hanson and shook my head.

“I was talking to the girls.” Crossing my arms, I cocked my head as a thought came to me. “What if it’s not one killer with a split personality but two separate killers with two separate MOs?”

Hanson scoffed, the sound coming out like he thought I was ridiculous. “You know as well as I do the likelihood of two serial killers working together is unrealistic. For two killers to be at this for at least eight years without killing one another? Impossible. They’re known predators. They would’ve deteriorated by now.”

“I know that is what would normally happen, but what if that is the reason why we can’t find a pattern? What if there are two killers at work and then dispose of the kill as one person?”

Hanson shook his head like she was speaking in tongues. “No, I’m sorry, but I’ve seen many cases where there have been two killers, and for that to work, one has to be a subordinate.”

Hanson pointed to the bodies.

“Do either of those bodies look like a subordinate did this? No, this is an alpha personality, a lion at the top of the food chain. Maybe he has different tastes or a split personality like you’ve been theorizing, but two alphas together for this long is impossible.”

Hanson walked away and ended the conversation like I’d been dismissed, and my hand clenched into a fist. My gaze fell on the girls once more. There was a good chance I was wrong. Hanson had made logical points, but weren’t the Tsavo Man-Eaters two lions that learned to kill together? A freaking movie had been made of the real-life accounts of those that had horrifically died.

Stepping around the bodies, I made my way toward Hanson and Sheriff Watts, were laughing about something, most likely my idea.

Hanson may have worked many cases, but it was my gut that was telling me I was on to something, so even if I had to do it on my own time, then that was what I’d do.

One way or another, I was going to find and stop this killer or killers, even if that meant I didn’t have the FBI’s top agent’s support. Hanson could go fuck himself. I’d knocked far tougher guys down a few pegs, and I’d do the same to him.

CAIN

Thanks to Ricky Rossi, I now had a shiny new ID card and maintenance clothes to match. I looked in the rear-view mirror and smiled at the baseball cap that said Quantico across the navy-colored material. Picking up the clipboard of work orders, I slipped out of the white truck and closed the door with the school logo on the side.

I’d already done my homework and knew where my Sunshine’s room was. I’d also gotten a glimpse of her wearing a thin white tank top, and I could clearly see her perky nipples from my hiding spot in the darkness under the tall oak tree. She looked spooked as her eyes searched the night before she closed the curtain. I liked that. I liked the fact that she was aware of me. On some level, she already felt me coming for her.

The thing I liked best about people was that their behavior was fairly predictable, so I figured it was a pretty good guess that Sunshine would want to have a shower after a long day. She’d been running late to class because her morning run started later than normal, so she wouldn’t have had time to shower. Such a naughty girl…staying up so late.