Coulter wiped a hand down his tired face and knew that he couldn’t keep the sheriff out of the loop, or at least he’d have to tell the sheriff something. “I’m thinking that now that the warrant of execution has been signed, someone feels like he can move freely. There are suddenly dead bodies piling up and I think it somehow has to do with the Petersons.
“Quinten has always maintained his innocence. I’ve always had my doubts about his guilt, which you know. The recent deaths and other information I’ve received make me believe that there was a lot more going on back then. I believe Quinten Peterson was set up. Perhaps not intentionally, considering he always admitted to bleeding all over the shack—the blood turning out to be the evidence that convicted him. I think the real killer saw the opportunity of escaping...and has maybe lain low all this time.”
He paused and stared down the path where he could see people moving, “Serial killers go underground…to sleep as it were, maybe he’s been woken up with the news about Quinten and he’s hunting again. At least, that’s what my gut is telling me.”
Silence followed Coulter’s assessment of the old case, and hearing his thoughts out loud made him realize that he was probably on the right track. He just needed a direction to go in and, right now, he had zero leads.
“I’m not sure what to think,” Sheriff Hodges mumbled, sounding exhausted. “Let’s get this over with.”
Coulter slowly followed the sheriff, and silently cursed when he saw the nude body sprawled out on her stomach. She appeared to be asleep until you looked closely. Then you could see the bruising on her arms, and the side of her rib cage.
“She put up more of a fight than Fern.” Coulter knelt closer and could see the congealed blood beneath her neck and face. “I’m not sure what that means.” He looked at the ME. “Do you have a cause of death?” he asked the question, but he could see the answer—she’d nearly been decapitated.
The ME glanced at him and then stared at the victim. “I read about your victim, Detective, and although my victim was nearly decapitated, I think it was post-mortem as opposed to yours being pre-mortem. My guess is that she died of asphyxiation. There are obvious signs of a struggle, and the bruising on her jaw and nose were pre-mortem. It looks like whoever did this grasped her face from behind.” The ME paused. “See the way the bruising is spread? The assailant looks to have held his hand tightly over her mouth while pinching her nose closed.”
The ME sighed and looked back at Coulter. “If it’s the same person who killed your victim, Detective, then I’d say Tracy here wasn’t surprised to see him and wasn’t afraid of him to begin with. When she realized what he intended, she fought and he overpowered her. Whether or not he intended to kill her the way he did is anyone’s guess.”
Coulter stared at the victim and wondered if there were two killers running around, or just the one. It was too much of a coincidence for his liking, especially when both recent victims had a connection to Alex Peterson. Not to forget Jocelyn.
He ran a hand down his face and moved away. “Can we talk at the station tomorrow?” he asked the sheriff.
The sheriff nodded.
Coulter took that as his cue to leave.
Trudging back to his car, he decided the private talk with Alex would happen sooner rather than later.
Day 11
8:00am
* * *
Saige tossed and turned for most of the night, and as she glanced over at Alex, realized that he looked to have slept about the same.
Not quite able to hide the yawn behind his hand, Alex dropped into the chair beside her and, after helping himself to coffee, sat back and drained his cup.
“I needed that,” Alex commented and grinned.
“Rough night?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He yawned again. “I’m not usually so tired though.”
“I know what you mean. I slept badly. Too much going on inside”—she tapped her forehead—“for me to settle.” She shrugged.
“I’ve been thinking,” Alex paused, “I think I’m going to give Daniel Sterling a call and ask him to start getting the paperwork together to present to the governor. I think we have enough to request a stay. He can put the bits you’ve remembered into the paperwork, and, at least, the majority of the work will be done and ready for when we find more evidence to prove that Quinten is innocent.”
Saige rubbed her forehead. “Okay...I have the feeling that all the answers are locked inside of me.” She took a minute to compose herself. “I need to remember, Alex.”
“I wish you could remember. I wish you had your memory when it happened so that Quinten wouldn’t have been convicted. But it is what it is. You can’t push it, and I’d be a liar if I wasn’t hoping that you seeing Quinten will jog your memory.”
“So, you’re really okay with me going to see your brother?”