Snared (Elemental Assassin #16)(39)
She shook her head. “No, it is not your fault. You are not personally responsible for all the crime in Ashland, especially not something this terrible.”
I knew that she was right, that people made their own choices, including whether to hurt other people, but anger and frustration filled me all the same. Maybe if I had known sooner, I could have done something to help Bria, Xavier, and Ryan catch this guy. Maybe I could have put the word out on the street about this killer. Maybe I could have offered a reward for information. I glanced at the photos again. Maybe I could have saved some of these poor dead girls.
“I’ve worked several of these cases, but Ryan was the one who first noticed the similarities between the victims, especially the makeup,” Bria said. “He started going back through his files and compiling a list of similar cases. Xavier’s been helping too, and this is what the three of us have come up with so far.”
“A jackpot of evil,” I muttered.
“Yeah,” Bria said. “That about sums it up.”
“So if you know that there’s a serial killer on the loose in Ashland, then why are all of these cases down here in storage?”
Bria and Ryan shared a grim look.
“Our superiors aren’t as convinced,” she said. “They think that the cases are unrelated. Or rather, they don’t want them to be related. They think that Ashland has enough crime and corruption without adding a serial killer to the mix.”
Well, that was certainly true. For as violent as Ashland was, there was usually a method to the madness. Somebody had something that someone else wanted, so they took it by force. Or somebody screwed someone else over in some other way, and the wronged party came back for revenge. Not to mention all the territorial disputes between gangs, criminals jacking their rivals’ shipments of guns and drugs and money, and desperate folks knocking over convenience stores for petty cash. And of course there were the old traditional standbys: people hurting each other because of money, love, jealousy, or all three.
But a serial killer, someone whose dark motives and even darker desires were known only to him, who could strike at any time and in any place without any rhyme, reason, or warning . . . That was truly frightening, even in Ashland.
“And of course the higher-ups are worried about the media attention,” Bria continued. “They can just see the headlines. Dollmaker strikes again. Dollmaker claims another victim. Dollmaker still on the loose.”
“Dollmaker?” I asked.
She shrugged. “We had to call him something. But his name doesn’t really matter, just the headlines he could generate. At least, that’s what our bosses think. They want to avoid the bad press at all costs, along with the resulting panic it would create.”
I snorted. “You mean the esteemed members of the po-po just want to cover their own asses because they haven’t been able to catch this guy yet.”
Bria nodded. “Yeah. That too.”
The three of us fell silent, although my gaze locked onto that plastic bag full of compacts, eye shadow, and mascara again. Out of all the things you could do to someone, why put makeup on them? And why paint every woman’s lips the exact same shade of red? Why not pink or purple or even black? Why not just use the woman’s favorite lipstick from her own purse?
Ryan was right. How these women looked—the young pretty faces, the long blond hair, the makeup—it all had to mean something to the killer. But what? Maybe it was all tied to some woman he’d once loved, like Ryan thought. Maybe he was Dr. Frankenstein trying to create—or recreate—his own perfect mate. Or maybe it was something else entirely. No way to know for sure.
Until I caught the bastard.
“So you two think that the dead woman tonight, the one with my spider runes lipsticked on her palms, is another one of the Dollmaker’s victims?” I asked.
“I do,” Ryan said. “Her injuries are consistent with the other women’s, and she has traces of makeup all over her face. Beaten, strangled, and dumped in Ashland. It’s the same guy. The only thing that’s different are your spider runes drawn on her palms. He’s never done that before. Never left any sort of runes or symbols behind on the bodies.”
“What do you think it means?” Bria asked, looking at me. “Do you think that it’s some sort of challenge to you? To catch him before he kills again?”
My head started pounding from all the unanswered questions. “I have no idea. I’m not blond, though, so why would he even care about me? Besides, I’m not known as a crime fighter. More like a crime killer. But whatever the runes mean, we have to find and stop this guy before he kidnaps his next victim.”
Ryan cleared his throat. “I hate to point out the obvious, but I think it’s already too late for that. Bria showed me a photo of that missing girl you’re searching for. Young, pretty, long blond hair. She fits his type to a T.”
With the sickening spider rune and serial killer revelations, I’d momentarily forgotten that Elissa Daniels was still missing. The ache in my head intensified.
“Plus, he’s been escalating,” Ryan said in a somber voice. “Kidnapping and killing the women closer together. Going from months between kills down to weeks. And it will only get worse.”
I glanced down at the photos laid out on the table again. Ryan was right. Elissa looked exactly like all the other victims. Young, blond, pretty. More important, she’d been at Northern Aggression last night.