“When Galveston was active, he’d get a victim into his vehicle by first tasering them and bundling them inside, then tying their hands behind their back and gagging them.”
Dominic moved along the wraparound deck toward the back door, looking into the house through the large windows. “Once he had them terrified and firmly under control, he’d force them at gunpoint into this house and take them to a makeshift bedroom on the upper floor.”
He pointed to a top corner of the property.
Ava’s grip tightened on her weapon, but she steadied her breathing, not wanting to look jumpy.
“It was basically an unfinished storage space in the attic at the back of the house with no windows. Galveston turned it into a cell and locked the captives up in chains that were bolted to the floor. They had a toilet and when he was away in the city, he’d leave them some bottled water, a kettle, and Ramen noodles so they didn’t starve to death. He had a camera system set up so he could watch them and if they tried to escape, he’d beat them. I think there were other people involved, people who checked on them, but they never appeared in the videos, and we never caught them.
“When he entertained friends here, he’d sedate the captive women by putting GHB into their water.” Dominic’s mouth tightened as they both acknowledged the connection to what had happened to him. “He filmed himself raping victims and torturing them. He’d bring them downstairs where he had a hook in the ceiling he’d attach them to so they hung there naked. Just out of reach of the telephone.” Dominic’s footsteps on the wooden boards echoed hollowly. “He kept a couple of them in dog kennels downstairs and made them wear leather outfits and ball gags and crawl around on all fours and eat out of dog bowls. Pretty sure he was going to pretend he was into kink should anyone ever talk to the women. Those were his favorites according to the videos. His pets.”
The imagery was caustic.
“Why did he kill them if they were his favorites?”
“They’d displease him in some way, or try to escape, or he’d go too far with his sadism. He kept some of them for months. Often several at once.”
Ava shuddered. “How many altogether?”
“Victims?” Dominic knocked harder on the back door.
“Yeah.” Ava scanned the forest as Dominic examined the house.
Nothing moved except the ghosts of victims past.
“We identified the DNA of fifteen women on his sex toys—although the youngest was only fourteen years old at the time of her abduction.”
Ava felt chilled to the bone. That these monsters existed…
“There’s no one here.” Dominic glanced upward and frowned.
How many times had those imprisoned women heard someone at the door? How many times had escape and rescue been just out of reach? They’d never know.
“Let’s take a scout around as we’re here.” Dominic seemed reluctant to leave. He wanted answers. They all wanted answers.
Ava nodded and holstered her weapon as they stepped off the porch.
Dominic headed up the hill to the ridge behind the cabin. At the top they both stood for a moment, Ava a little freaked out by Galveston’s crimes. The malevolence and narcissistic nature of a psychopath’s mindset was one of the things that set them apart from the rest of humanity.
“If you hadn’t caught him, he might have carried on killing for years.”
“It was luck.”
Ava shook her head. “No. It was good police work. You set a trap, and he walked right into it.”
Dominic’s mouth pulled downward. “I’m going to call Sandy, see how her husband is doing.”
The attacks seemed to be weighing heavily on his conscience. She understood it and didn’t bother to reassure him. That kind of self-forgiveness took time and perspective.
Dominic looked at his cell and swore. “At least I would if I had service.”
Ah, crap. She rested her hand back on her weapon as they went for a short walk around the property. The brush was thick with summer growth, making it possible for someone to easily hide from them. They circled the entire property and came up beneath their rental car. Rather than return to the vehicle, Dominic headed back up to the top of the ridge.
“What is it?” Ava asked, feeling slightly out of breath trying to keep up with Dominic striding up the steep incline.
He pulled a face. “I don’t know. Just…something. I feel like there’s something here. I want to find it.”
“Well, it certainly has an atmosphere,” Ava commented dryly.
They walked together back down the hill. Taking another route through a different section of woods.
Ava spotted it first.
She grabbed his arm, and they both stopped, then pulled their weapons.
Slowly they advanced upon a cleared patch of the forest floor. Bushes prevented anyone seeing it from the driveway.
“What is this?” Ava murmured under her breath. She stayed behind Dominic, covering their rear.
“A makeshift graveyard.”
“I can see that.” There were dozens of white-painted crosses staked into the ground. “You think anyone is actually buried here?”
“I don’t know.” Dominic walked carefully toward the crosses, some of which bore names. “Molly Jenner. Olivia Lopez. Frauke Holland. These are some of the names of the victims.” In the center was a larger cross, one that was more ornate. Peter Galveston was written first in big letters and then in small beneath. No dates of birth or death were listed.
On the right-hand side were crosses bearing the names of the FBI agents who’d caught him. Ava looked closely. Van’s name was there. So was Dominic’s.
“You have a cross.” She felt sick.
“Still not dead.”
“I’m glad.”
He flashed her a smile.
“So do Fernando Chavez and Sandra Warren. Think this is Caroline Perry’s work? Did she set everything in motion and then assume she’d successfully killed you all? She killed herself so she wasn’t caught and had to pay for her crimes?”
He sniffed. “I don’t know. I do think it’s possible. I also think it’s possible she’s a decoy. Rooney said there were drag marks beside her vehicle next to the river.”