Page 42 of Shadow Angel
She wanted to punch the air and scream out that the Tarot Killer had removed another monster from society, but exhaustion dragged at her. Standing slowly, she pulled her phone from an inside pocket and using the flashlight, checked all around the body for evidence. Any fabric or hair from her found on his body would come from her wig or from clothes she’d destroy. She’d been wearing gloves and they’d go into the incinerator too, just in case his bodily fluids had contaminated them. Using the thick dead vegetation and fall leaves on the ground, she covered all signs of activity. Walking slowly, she made her way back along the trail, and collecting her coat along the way, she pulled it back on. The cold wind cut through her clothes, chilling her damp flesh now she’d stopped running. It seemed to take forever before she reached the van and finally retrieved the hatpin and her duffel.
Exhausted, she climbed into the driver’s seat, and turned the key hanging from the ignition. The van refused to start. She leaned back in the seat and thought for a beat. Maybe in her rush she’d forgotten to do something. She checked everything and tried again moving the shifter back and forth. Sighing with relief when the engine roared into life, she turned the van around and moving slowly, followed the dirt road back to the highway. When the lights of the roadhouse came into view far in the distance, she searched for the small off-road area leading into the forest where she’d decided to leave the van. After dumping the van, she kept to the edge of the forest, staying in the shadows. It was some ways from her destination and looked farther in the dark. She couldn’t risk being seen by passing traffic and so she made her way across open land, stumbling in the dark until she reached the motel. All was quiet as she slipped back inside the window. She stared at herself in the mirror for a long while before stripping off her clothes and bagging them with care. She sprayed her gloves with Lab Clean and used the fluid to remove all traces of DNA from her hatpins. After taking a long hot shower, she crawled into bed.
The feeling of elation had leaked away on her run across the lowlands. Exhaustion had her by the throat. She stared at the ceiling, covered her face with her hands, and allowed the tears to fall. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried. Keeping emotions locked away had become a way of life. Perhaps working with Styles was making her soft. No one had complimented her before or encouraged her and she wished he could have been there backing her up. It had been a frightening encounter. She’d underestimated Levi Jackson and come close to becoming his next victim. If she’d failed to stop him, he’d have killed again and again. Like so many killers out there, the undetectable or uncatchable, she had become the only force to stop them. Beth dried her tears and straightened. She had a job to do, her father’s debt to pay. The Tarot Killer must not fail—not ever.
FORTY-FIVE
TUESDAY
The chill in the early-morning breeze invigorated Beth as she stepped down from the bus at six the following morning at the Spring Grove Bus Station. Disguised as Tim Burke, Beth kept her ball cap pulled low over her eyes and made her way to the back of the motel. It was very quiet at this time of the year, as only a few miners occupied the rooms on weekends. Glad to see the window ajar as she’d left it, she climbed inside and checked all around. The security lock was still on the door, the phone was off the receiver, and nothing had been touched. She dragged out her suitcase, and after spraying her clothes with Lab Clean, dropped them into garbage bags along with the duffel and pushed them inside. She washed the makeup and glue from her face, added her usual cosmetics and dressed in her normal clothes. She added a gold snake bracelet she’d purchased the day before, opened the door to the motel, and packed her things into the back of her truck.
By seven, her stomach growled with hunger. It had been a long night but she still needed her cover story. She’d purchased a few nice items the previous day but to validate her weekend, she needed a few more things. First, being seen in town was a priority. She dropped her key at the office and drove to the diner. She’d noticed a furniture store close by and lingered outside looking at the window display. The store opened at eight-thirty, so she had some time to fill. As she went to turn away, she noticed a red truck pull up behind her ride. She blinked in astonishment as Styles climbed out and walked toward her grinning, with Bear loping along at his side. She turned to look at him. “Have the fish all gone on vacation?”
“Nope. I fished all day yesterday and woke before dawn.” He scratched his cheek and looked at her sheepishly. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I had this weird feeling you were trying to contact me. Your phone is off. Did you know?”
Shaking her head, Beth stared at him. “I did mention it would be off so I could get some undisturbed downtime.”
“Yeah, you did, but I always go with my gut, so I tracked your phone. You know as an agent it’s on my app?” He looked chagrined. “Well, I called the motel an hour ago.”
Stomach clenching, Beth waited for the third degree. She’d taken every precaution by placing ado not disturbsign on the door and removing the phone from the receiver. Had they opened the door to do a welfare check on her and found her missing? No, that couldn’t have happened as the security lock on the door was still in place. She lifted her chin and met his inquisitive gaze. “And?”
“You sure make long calls.” Styles inclined his head. “Were you calling overseas or something that early in the morning?”
Relieved, Beth blew out a sigh. “I just knew you’d be calling me for something, so I took the phone off the receiver so I could get some peace. You recall? Like we agreed?”
She placed her hands on her hips and took in his apologetic expression. In truth, she had needed him last night and somehow he’d sensed her danger. How extraordinary. No one had ever cared about her before. This would sure take some getting used to. “So, you came out to see if I was okay?”
“Yeah.” Styles smiled. “I guess I did. I feel kinda stupid now but better safe than sorry.”
Beth nodded. She had to say something and smiled. “Thanks, that’s very thoughtful of you.”
“Maybe it’s just as well I came by. I see you have a bruise on your cheek.” Styles moved closer to stare at her face and cupping her chin ran the pad on his thumb over the bruise under her left eye. “Right here. How did that happen? It’s going to be black in a day or so.”
How could she tell him that in a struggle for her life, a notorious serial killer had slapped her? Grasping for any silly excuse, Beth shrugged. “Really? Yesterday, I found a dime store and they sold secondhand furniture out back.” She shrugged. This part of her story was true. “I lifted down a chair from a pile and the darn thing smacked me in the face. I didn’t think it bruised me. At the time, I was too busy looking at stuff to care.”
“This is why you need me along. Not because you’re incapable of lifting down chairs but because I’m much taller and can reach things for you. And I just happen to like shopping. Just don’t tell the guys. I have an image to protect.” He chuckled and indicated to the diner. “I’m starving. Are you planning on eating anytime soon?”
Beth nodded. “Yeah. I was heading that way but a nice table and chairs in the store caught my eye.”
“Well, how about I come along with you today?” He led the way to the diner and indicated to the woman at the counter that Bear was a K-9 with a handler, and they sat down and stared at a plastic-covered menu. He looked at her. “If you purchase the table and chairs, I could help you unload them and you could show me around your cabin.”
Mind reeling with foreseeable problems if Styles needed to check up on her all the time, she smiled and added a good dose of her psychopath’s charm. “It’s really sweet that you worry about me, Styles, and yes, I’d love to have company today. You know your way around the towns better than I do, but just like you, I need some alone time to unwind. Somemetime.”
“I understand. We work close every day and I need to chill out alone sometimes as well. It’s just that you’re a city girl.” He shrugged. “That’s not saying you’ll get into trouble. It’s just that things happen to women alone out here.”
Beth considered what he’d said. “If you’re that concerned, I’ll check in when I’m away from my apartment overnight. I’ll send you a message when I get back to my motel so you’ll know I’m okay.”
“That works for me.” Styles ordered a stack of pancakes and bacon. “It’s still early. You mentioned visiting the Native American stores on the res. Why don’t you leave your truck here and I’ll give you a ride. We’ll be back by nine and you can check out the furniture next door.”
Smiling to herself, Beth added the fixings to the coffee the server had just delivered. How perfect was this? With Styles as her alibi, she was safe—this time.
EPILOGUE
FRIDAY
The week had flown by and Beth had spent her time following up and supplying additional information on the Joseph Crenshaw case to the DA. She’d sent in all the information on his dark website to cybercrime in the hope some of the creeps accessing it might be found. How many of them were serial killers? How many of the comments she’d read about murders had been true? She could only hope that some new whiz kid in cybercrime could track them down.
With the forest wardens across the state and local mining leaseholders being made aware that old cabins in remote areas might be dumping grounds for bodies, reports had been coming in from all over. The discovery of skeletal and mummified remains of women in the areas specified by Joseph Crenshaw proved to be not the only evidence of his crimes. One of the cabins had been covered by an avalanche fifteen years previously. It had been uncovered after a particularly hot summer. The body of a woman wearing heavy makeup had been discovered inside. She’d been murdered. The brain stem injury was exactly the same as Crenshaw’s other victims. The woman was identified as a missing sex worker and matched an image of one of his darlings from his files. The search was still proceeding for more victims. It was a massive case and counties were lining up for their chance to prosecute Crenshaw.
