Deadly Fate (Krewe of Hunters #19)(80)

He spoke lightly—saying the right things, of course. But she could see that he was grim.

And she knew.

“Jackson, you know something.”

He didn’t lie to her. “We don’t think that Becca Marle did that setup in the room herself. They think that they’ve found her.”

“They think?” Clara asked.

“Where she was left...in the condition she was left...well, the ME has her now.”

Clara sank into one of the theater seats.

And Jackson nodded. “Thor has gotten back and talked to Misty, Tommy and Nate. Apparently, they knew she was corresponding with not just one convicted criminal—she was communicating with several of them.”

“Oh, no. Because they were planning some kind of show—using convicted killers?” Clara asked him. “Oh, God, no.”

He nodded. “So, we’re not really sure what to think. Assuming that the corpse is Becca, even if she wasn’t in on the killings, we believe that she did know about Tate Morley. And she kept her mouth shut—even after Natalie and Amelia were murdered—because she was afraid she might have been the one to bring it on. Except that she had been careful, in her mind, at least. She’d always called herself Jane when she was writing to the men she was studying.”

“So. No closer,” she murmured.

“No, we are closer. Every time something happens...”

“We’re down a suspect,” she said bleakly.

“But, there’s more that we know,” Jackson told her. He offered her a tight smile. “We’ve been working on the logistics of it all, the problem being, of course, that the only time we know exactly where Tate Morley was is the hours before Natalie Fontaine was killed. We believe he committed that murder—we also believe that he could have done so in time to reach the island and kill Amelia. But as far as being on the mainland again to try and kill Connie Shaw...we’re not sure.”

Jackson was thoughtful. “We think he had inside help. We think that someone has been involved, getting him messages somehow, letting him know what law enforcement has been doing and thinking—and helping him, like last night. Someone who knew all about the Alaska Hut and Wickedly Weird Productions. We thought the prison letters were our best clue, and still think they are. But if we are talking about someone being involved, it would have to be the surviving members of the Wickedly Weird staff—Misty Blaine, Tommy Marchant or Nate Mahoney—or, someone directly involved with the island, and that would mean Justin or Magda Crowley, or Marc Kimball himself, or even his assistant.” Jackson paused, indicating the stage. “I think you’re being summoned.”

She was. She hurried down to the stage, pulling out her script, ready to take her notes. Tandy had a few blocking changes for her and little else.

The director—a wonderful woman with crisp iron-gray hair, bright blue eyes and slim, energetic form, smiled at her, shaking her head. “You’re doing fabulously as a ghost! Just like someone who loved life, suddenly lost it and grows through the show to deal with her own death. And realizes that she wants the ones she loved so much to move on as well and be happy. It’s almost as if you had some kind of experience in the field! I love it, Clara!”

Clara smiled weakly.

She’d had some insight into the subject matter, yes.

Which made her wonder just where Amelia Carson had gotten to. She didn’t know if she wished that she would—or wouldn’t—make an appearance on the Fate.

*

The Alaska State Troopers, along with a group of young agents—native Alaskans who knew the area—arrived on Black Bear Island.

It was an impressive troop of men and women, and Thor was well aware that with their expertise and their numbers, they far outweighed anything that he and Mike could do alone. And still, he and Mike joined in the intense search on the island. Hours went by; units of men combed the forests, the shoreline, the cliffs, the caverns—and the Alaska Hut.

Nothing.

Since they’d first seen the image from the lobby of the Nordic Lights Hotel of the man who had appeared to be Tate Morley, APBs had been out on the man. Enfield had wanted to play it safe, not certain that they needed to terrify an entire community—despite the fact that they were already terrified due to the murders—when Thor had first identified the man. Now, word that the escaped serial killer was believed to be in Alaska was out in every form of available media.

The ME had taken the body. The only thing recognizable about the dead woman for an on-site identification might be the clothing she was wearing; Nate Mahoney or Tommy Marchant might be called upon while they awaited positive forensic results. Or, it was possible that Misty could help—but Misty had never come to the island. She remained holed up in her hotel room, terrified. While the circumstances dictated that the body did belong to Becca, it was impossible for them to be certain. There just wasn’t any face left and the body...well, she’d lain out in the open for many hours. There wasn’t enough left of that, either—that hadn’t been ripped up by the killer, or consumed or mauled by beasts.

By the time he and Mike returned to the Alaska Hut, the others were gone.

Except for Magda and Justin Crowley.

Thor had known that Nate and Tommy were leaving; they’d return to the Nordic Lights Hotel for the time being.

Becca’s room was still designated a crime scene and a police officer still looked dutifully over it. The door was open—the window was locked.