Cut and Run(48)

“What?”

“I have a tracker on his car. Why has he begun going back out to the ranch?” He’d been watching Garnet come and go from the ranch for a couple of weeks, but he’d not investigated, fearful a search of the house would tip off Garnet, who would then expose the evidence.

“I didn’t know that he was,” Heather said. “Only that he was gone more and more.”

“Really? I saw a poster of a missing pregnant girl in his bar. Did he have anything to do with her disappearance?”

“Why would he do that? She was already pregnant when she came into the bar.”

Ah, more layers to the puzzle. “Why is that important?”

She hesitated, knowing not telling would cost her more now than telling. “The others weren’t pregnant when they were handpicked. They were selected.”

“To make babies?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know anything about a new girl.”

“It would explain why he’s going out to the ranch, wouldn’t it?”

“I swear he hasn’t told me anything,” Heather said.

A new girl made sense. Her baby would represent revenue flow, and Garnet was now in short supply of money since his last arrangement had ended. He had to pay those gambling debts somehow.

“Look, Garnet is older and more paranoid. He’s always been worried about the cops. And then that woman came in the bar asking about Crow. She said her father had been a friend of Garnet’s, but her visit freaked Garnet out.”

The discovery of the graves wasn’t a real issue. All DNA evidence on the property would have led to Garnet. And if anyone had found the new girl on the property, there’d have been a mention in the news by now. And even if the cop had the girl under wraps, whatever DNA she was carrying in her belly wouldn’t trace back. Still, he was left with the problem of finding whatever evidence Garnet was holding against his client. “How long have you been with Garnet?”

“Thirty-two years.”

“That’s a long time.”

“He loves me.”

Maybe Garnet had some affection for dear sweet Heather, but he’d bet she was as disposable as the girls on the ranch.

“I swear I don’t know anything, mister.”

He loosened his hold on her hair. “I do believe you, Heather. But here is a truth, Heather. Garnet is using you just like he used those other murdered girls.”

“He’s not using me.”

“Heather, you’re smarter than this, I hope.”

“Please, let me—”

Before she could finish the sentence, he burrowed the blade quickly into the side of her neck several times until he had opened a big hole in her jugular. Even a surgeon couldn’t save her now.

As the air gurgled in her throat, she grappled with the door handle, and to her credit she was able to get it open. Killing Crow at his place had been easy. Not as fruitful as he’d hoped, but easy. Running over Macy had been an impulse and poorly planned. He’d gotten the job done, but he’d taken too many risks. The knife was the best way to finish the task. Blades were far harder to trace than bullets.

But he’d not found Garnet’s smoking gun, and until he did, he had to tread carefully.

He got out of the back seat and watched as she stumbled to her feet and staggered forward. He reached over and popped the trunk, walked around to it, and retrieved the gas can.

Heather stood still under the underpass. She wavered from side to side and then fell to her knees, grasping her throat. She rose up, her throat gurgling, and tried to crawl. Blood traced her path from the car to the spot where she fell.

He followed at a slow and steady pace, and when she collapsed, he came up beside her, set the can down, and gently rolled her onto her back. Unable to resist her plump, still-pink flesh, he gripped his knife and stabbed her arms, chest, and thighs. He loved the sensation of the knife piercing the flesh. Finally, he wiped the blade on her shirt and, pulling a cloth from his coat pocket, wiped his hands.

He stayed by her and waited another five minutes, listening to his heartbeat blend with the cars rushing above on the overpass. When his own breathing stilled, he checked her pulse and found none.

He brushed her hair out of her eyes and opened her shirt slightly so the knife wounds were visible. He removed a playing card. The queen of hearts. What better way to get the medical examiner’s attention? Like a version of a message in a bottle, he thought, smiling.

He knew he shouldn’t be playing games with Dr. McIntyre, but for some reason he couldn’t resist. He was like a cat, and she was his mouse.

He doused the body and lit the match. The blue-white flames quickly engulfed her body. “Maybe Dr. McIntyre will help me find what I’m looking for.”





CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Wednesday, June 27, 5:15 a.m.

Despite his lack of sleep, Hayden felt energized as he picked up Faith at her home. Her hair was pulled up, and she was wearing jeans and a fitted V-neck black sweater that hugged her breasts in a way that was downright distracting. He was certain the woman could’ve worn a paper bag and still looked fine.

The faint scent of her perfume drifted around him and reminded him she liked to dab the scent between her breasts and behind her right ear.

She slid into the front seat. If they were a legit couple, he would have leaned over and kissed her. But this was another one of the moments that simply felt like overstepping.