The Darkness of Evil (Karen Vail #7)(62)

“Park’s open till half an hour after dark,” Hurdle said. “Guy with his dog got lost, didn’t get out before it closed. About 7:30 PM he came across a man who seemed to be lugging something heavy over his shoulder. He stopped and watched. It was dark and obviously there were trees in the way, but there was some decent moonlight. He was finally able to see that it was a body draped over the guy’s shoulder.

“The dog saw it too, because he started barking. Perp dropped what he was carrying and fled. No phones in the park and damn near no cell service. So the witness couldn’t call us. He went over, saw the body, then had to find his way back to his car. But he couldn’t get out because the gate was closed. After realizing the guy he saw could still be in the area, he plowed through the barricade and drove till he had a signal, called 911.”

“Did he give us a description?”

“White guy, big and strong. Had no trouble maneuvering the body.”

“Certainly sounds like Marcks,” Vail said, looking around. “Only been here once. Aren’t there waterfalls around here somewhere?”

“You mean because the park’s called Great Falls?” Curtis said.

“I see I’m not the only one who can do sarcasm.”

“There are three,” Hurdle said. “They’ve got overlooks not far from here. Five to ten minute walk. Aren’t any roads that lead there, so only way in is by foot. Why?”

Vail thought a moment. “It fits in that he seems to gravitate toward parks.”

Curtis stamped a foot. “We found one of his earlier vics in a national park.”

“Yeah,” Vail said, glancing around. “That could be it. He’s comfortable in less densely populated, wooded spaces. And after hours they offer definite advantages.”

“There are a gazillion square miles of parkland in Virginia,” Hurdle said, “but I can put out an alert to Park Police.”

“Can’t hurt.” Vail shook her head absentmindedly. “But he came here, to this one, for a specific reason. Maybe he was going to dispose of the body. Dump it into the falls. Be a long time before we’d find it, if ever.”

“Why dump only this one?” Johnson asked.

“Remember he hacked William Reynolds to bits and then buried him?” Vail shrugged. “I don’t think he wants to leave any traces of where he’s been. He wants us to think he could be halfway to Mexico by now. Or Canada. Or even Arizona or Montana. Harder, if not impossible, for us to focus our resources to find him if it’s a nationwide manhunt.”

“But because we’ve found these bodies,” Hurdle said, “we know he’s staying local. So we don’t have that problem.”

Johnson held out both gloved hands, palms up. “Wouldn’t we know that anyway, if the object is to kill his daughter?”

“We don’t know for sure his objective is to kill her,” Curtis said. “We think he wants to do that. I wanted to be president at one point. Thinking changes, goals shift.”

“You wanted to be president?” Vail asked. “Can’t see that.”

“Thanks,” Curtis said, then gave her the finger. “Can you see this?”

She suppressed a laugh. “Point is, he could dispatch someone to take her out. Depends on whether or not there’s anger behind his desire to kill her. If there is, he needs to do it because it’s personal. If shutting her up is a means to an end, and his real goal is to escape imprisonment, he’s probably looking to leave the country. I mentioned this to Rambo on our drive to Potter. Homeland Security and Border Patrol, that’s his playpen. He alerted his people. But right now, until Marcks can secure a way across the border, he’s hanging around Virginia. Which could mean he’s out to do Jasmine. Or not.”

“So are we thinking this is Marcks?” Hurdle asked.

“What about the vic’s genitals,” Johnson said. “Intact?”

“Yeah. And no knife marks on the abdomen.”

“But he was interrupted by that dog.” Vail rubbed her arms to get the blood moving. “I’m gonna go take a look at the body. Leslie, want to take a hike?”

They walked about fifty yards to the area that was lit up by Klieg lights powered by a portable generator that was making a considerable amount of noise. At the center of all the commotion was the medical examiner.

Vail and Johnson exchanged pleasantries with him, then Vail knelt over the body, taking a long look at the face and torso. She snapped a few photos.

What are we looking at here? Why this victim? He doesn’t fit the males who were killed during Marcks’s active killing period.

“What are you thinking?”

Johnson’s question pulled her out of her reverie. “Let’s head back, give me a few minutes to mull this over, then I can share it with everyone all at once.”

The task force members had retreated to the warmth of their vehicles. Upon Vail’s and Johnson’s return, they emerged and complained about the cold. Tarkoff and Morrison had arrived in the interim.

“What do you think?” Hurdle said. “This our guy?”

“If this is Marcks, the victimology doesn’t fit the men he targeted in the past. They were younger, blonds. Not educated, not successful. Easily controlled. I doubt a guy like this, with his expensive attire, is easily controlled. He’s probably someone accustomed to giving orders, not taking them.”