Kane disconnected and climbed behind the wheel. As he drove toward his destination, his thoughts centered on the investigation. Following his profiling, the cowboys had moved down a few slots in his personal suspect list but the new information made things complicated. With little concrete evidence and suspects coming out of his ass, he had to narrow the field before the maniac struck again.
Although the cowboys appeared to stand out like sore thumbs, he doubted either of them had the brains to hack a computer, but both men moved around a lot and attracted young women. He could not discount that their meetings with both victims could have been verbal. After discovering Felicity and Kate loved the rodeo cowboys, it would not have taken too much persuasion to convince the girls to meet them at a secluded spot, but he doubted the men would be stupid enough to murder Joanne and leave her in a place they admitted to frequenting.
It would be conceivable to believe Kate had changed the time to meet Chad because she had made a date with Lucky Briggs. Jenna had mentioned Kate and Aimee had been star-struck by the two cowboys. If Wolfe had discovered one tiny shred of DNA, he would not be chasing his tail in endless circles.
At the fairgrounds, Kane maneuvered through the masses of people and checked the running sheet for the day’s events. His suspects had events for most of the day, and from the announcement, Lucky Briggs had won the bull riding. He ambled toward the group of cowboys leaning on the fence waiting for the next event, and Lucky Briggs climbed over the railing and landed two feet in front of him. Covered in sweat and dust and with a smile as big as Texas, he swaggered through the group of men. Kane moved to block his path. “Congratulations! May I have a word?”
“Most people want an autograph.” Lucky pushed a hand through his sweat-soaked hair then replaced his black Stetson. “Mind if I get a drink? It’s mighty dry work.” He strolled inside a shed milling with men wearing numbers pinned to their shirts and took a bottle of water out of a cooler, popped the cap, and drank the contents. “What can I do for you?” He dropped the bottle into a trashcan, reached for another, and wiped a filthy, gloved hand over his mouth.
Kane pushed his hat up and leaned casually against the doorframe. “The last time we spoke to you, did you go back to the rock pool that afternoon?”
“Nope.” Lucky wiped a rag over his sweaty face. “The local media was holding interviews all afternoon.”
“I hear you went to the Triple Z Bar last night with Storm.”
“So?” Lucky raised both black eyebrows. “No law in drinkin’. I’m over twenty-one.”
“Did you come back to town via Stanton Road?”
“Ain’t no other road back to town from the Triple Z, so I’d be lyin’ if I denied it, wouldn’t I?” Lucky’s brow crinkled into a frown. “Now I have a question for you. Why?”
“There was an incident at the campus, and as you and Crawley were in the area, we are speaking to everyone.” Kane straightened and took out his notebook and pen. “What time did you leave to go to the bar?”
“We left the motel just after six, I guess.” Lucky scratched at a drip of sweat, leaving a wet line on his dusty cheek. “We got back to town around nine and had dinner at Aunt Betty’s Café. I saw you come in and buy some takeout, it must have been closer to ten.”
“Did you see anyone walking along Stanton Road or cars parked in the area on the way to the bar or on the way back?”
“Hell, man, do you notice cars or people when you’re driving? Sexy chicks maybe but that’s about all I see.” Lucky snorted with mirth then held up one hand. “Hang on a minute. Yeah, I do remember seeing a chick, long legs, wearing tight jeans, cowboy boots, and a hoodie heading toward the college.” He stared into the distance for some moments. “That’s all I remember.”
He saw Kate. “What time did you see the woman?”
“It was on the way to the Triple Z, close to six thirty, I guess.”
Kane opened a clean page on his notebook and handed it to Lucky. “Write what you saw, the girl’s description, and time, then sign it. If you do this for me now, I won’t have to haul you into the office for a statement.”
“Sure.” Lucky took the pen, rested the book against the shed wall, and wrote the statement, signing it with a flourish. “Here you go. Anything else?”
Kane read the statement, signed as a witness, and pushed the notebook back inside his pocket. “Yeah, thanks, where can I find Crawley?”
“In the tack room, where you spoke to us before.”
Kane nodded and headed across the crowded venue, weaving around people and avoiding the piles of horse and cattle dung. Fairgrounds had the same smell no matter what state or country: fried onions, horses, sweat, and cow shit. He wiped the sweat from his brow and strolled into the stables. As Lucky had predicted, Storm Crawley was in the tack room cleaning his saddle for the following day’s events. He took the same line of questioning and he remembered seeing Kate as well.
“Do you remember the time?”
“Must have been around six thirty.” Storm’s lips thinned into a line. “She was on Lucky’s side of the car. I didn’t get a good look at her but I remember long legs and a hoodie. I didn’t see her face at all.” He rubbed his chin. “I did see a dark sedan heading off the road into the forest, some ways along Stanton Road. I thought it might be a couple looking for some privacy, if you know what I mean.” He smirked.
Holy shit! “What time would this have been?”
“I’m not sure, but it was still there when we went by later. We only stayed at the Triple Z for a couple of hours. Lucky was hungry and we got to Aunt Betty’s Café around nine.” His mouth slashed into a white smile. “Saw you there too picking up some takeout for the sheriff.”
“We all have to eat.” Kane smiled and pulled out his notebook.
He asked Crawley to write a statement and then thanked him. Dodging kids with balloons on sticks or eating huge hotdogs dripping with ketchup, he headed for the car then reached for his cellphone and called Jenna. “I have a witness that puts Steve Rogers within walking distance of the college around six thirty and two eye-witnesses who saw Kate walking on Stanton Road at the same time.”
“With what we have, that’s enough to arrest him on suspicion. I’ll start the paperwork.”
Thirty-Six
The man’s mind was on the task of choosing his next girl. The thrill of killing Kate thrummed through him and the smell of her still lingered in his nose. He moved into the entrance to an alley and slid into the shadow of the bank then took out his cellphone. The images of his girls, all his girls, were a touch away, hidden in a special folder. He had to take a quick look and enjoy the surge of pleasure, seeing his work at its best.
The images of Kate lit up the screen and his heart pounded at the memory of a knife pressed in his palm. The fear in her eyes and the taste of her. He flicked through the images, and sweat trickled down his spine. Each time he looked at them, he wanted to add another to his collection. Breathing heavily, he relived every tiny detail.
So many girls, so much exquisite fun.
He lifted his head to gaze at a group of girls chatting close by and smiled. After the thrill of finding a girl in the forest and taking her, his skill had proven invincible. He would snatch a girl off the street soon and display her for all to see, then the media would not ignore his art. He bit back a groan, remembering the intense satisfaction of killing his forest gift. Oh, she had fought well but none had ever escaped his knife.
No one ever would.
His mind shifted to the sheriff. A pretty woman and worthy of his art but she would take the brunt of his anger. He would have her soon and enjoy every second. The way she strutted around as if she owned the town made him more determined to tame her. They all beg in the end. Her deputies were no match for his skill, and he would be able to deal with them one at a time in his own special way.
Reluctantly, he closed the file on his cellphone. He had plans to make. He ran the faces of his chosen girls through his mind and trembled with anticipation. Who will be next?
Thirty-Seven