Chapter 15

Chapter

Fifteen

B acking away and keeping his eyes moving, he returned to his truck where he shifted, dressed, and call Skylar.

"Hey, Babe! What's up?" she answered.

"You need to bring your team, forensics, and the medical examiner to La Laurie Swamp."

"What are you doing out there?"

"I wanted to shift and take a run. I decided to go to the last place you'd gone. As I was running, I kept feeling like there was something, a presence, close by. Finally, I picked up the scent of death and followed it deep into the swamp. There's a mound of freshly tilled dirt and it reeks of death. Remember how you told me the first kill was too clean and you and Tom both believed it was merely the first staged one and not his actual first murder? I think I may have found where he's put the others."

"Shit. Please tell me you have your Glock with you."

"I do."

"Then could you indulge me and get in your truck with the doors locked and your gun ready? I've got a really bad feeling about this."

"I'm inside the truck and the doors are locked. I'll wait for you and lead you back to where I found it. Or them."

"We're on our way."

Skylar disconnected, and he put his phone away. His eyes never stopped scanning the area while he waited for the team to arrive. It wasn't long before a patrol car with flashing lights and a noisy siren entered the parking area, followed by the forensics unit and an SUV carrying the task force.

Travis got out of his truck and was inordinately happy when Skylar rushed to him and flung her arms around his neck.

Tom Shadburn, the head of forensics, approached with his hand outstretched, and Travis shook it. "How bad is it?" he asked.

"I don't really know. I came out here for a run and picked up the smell of death. I followed it back to the middle of the swamp and when I saw the mound of fresh dirt, I came back here and called Sky."

"Do you think you can take us to it again?" asked Tom.

"I do."

Travis had no problem leading them back to the clearing. As soon as they arrived, Tom made everyone wait as he and his team tried to define the active crime scene area. Soon they began the gruesome work of unearthing the killer's other victims. After locating the twelfth body, Tom came back to Skylar, who had been waiting with Travis at the edge of the clearing, to give her a report.

"Why so many?" she asked. "If he holds true to our theory, there will only be ten posed like the paintings."

"From a preliminary examination, I can tell you that if he didn't get it right the first time, he tried again. The one that Travis most likely smelled was probably the latest. She was the practice run for Jenny."

"Is he sticking with the same type for the kills?" asked Skylar.

"No. It seems he doesn't care about his practice kills. Only the staged ones match the paintings. And I can't tell for sure until we get them on the table, but my guess is he raped or at least sexually tortured these as well."

"Horrific," said Travis quietly.

"Indeed," agreed Tom. "Skylar, you may as well take your team back to the station. We'll be a couple more hours here, and anyone outside my team is just going to be in the way. We'll try to have something for you in the morning."

"Hey, everybody not in forensics? Let's give Tom and his people some room. Try to go back out on the same trail we came in on. It's close to the end of the day, so unless you need to check in with someone, let's call it a day." Skylar turned to Tom. "If you need me for anything, just call."

He nodded. "Travis, good work. I don't know that we'd have ever found this."

"I hope it'll be of help."

"Some of it will be. And some of it may be so degraded that it'll offer little exculpatory evidence, but if we can at least identify the victims, we may be able to bring their loved ones some peace."

Travis put his arm around Skylar. "Do you think you'll be able to link them to the Omicidio Cerchio kills?"

"I hope so. We talked about how we thought the murders that have been staged were too clean and too precise. My guess is that these were his practice victims, and we should be able to find enough similarities to link them together. Even if we can't do that in a court of law, we should be able to learn things that may lead us back to him."

Travis tucked Skylar further under his arm, and they walked back to the truck. Once inside they headed back into the city.

"What made you want to take a run out there?" she asked.

"I don't really know. It seemed to me that things started escalating after your last run. I thought maybe if I ran the same path, I might see something."

"That I missed?" she said defensively.

"Not at all. Besides, you weren't looking for anything out there at the time, right? I mean, isn't that the point at which you started putting it together?"

"Maybe not right then, but things did seem to start falling into a pattern that I was able to see."

"Did you ever get the feeling that someone was out there with you?"

"No. Well, not exactly…"

"What do you mean not exactly ?"

"I remember feeling like something was watching me but could never see anyone."

"And there were sounds of disturbance—like birds taking flight?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I felt the same thing," admitted Travis. "I stopped a couple of times and whatever it was raised my hackles, but I couldn't pick up a scent or hear anything… It was just a feeling."

Skylar nodded. "Exactly. I've wondered if it was him."

"Or whatever is driving him."

"What do you mean?"

"I know this is going to sound weird, but New Orleans has always been a source of supernatural power. Don't forget it was Robyn's grandmother who gave us a tip about Jenny. I'm assuming you don't think she's connected in any way to the murders."

"No. I've never known Chantal not to be on the side of the light. I'm surprised my Texas cowboy would give any credence to that kind of thing."

"I never discount anything. There were too many times when I was with Delta Force that we got our asses saved by something we couldn't explain. And I've seen too much evil to not believe there is something behind it."

"So, you don't think people can be evil all on their own?"

"I think people can be truly evil—DeMoncada was proof of that. But you can usually figure out what their motivation is. This guy? What motivates someone to kill women and pose them like paintings from the past?"

Skylar shivered. "I've been wondering the same thing. My whole life I've had dreams of something I finally started calling the Darkness. Not a person, but a kind of malevolent presence. My mother tried to dismiss it as the nightmares of a child. But for one thing, why would I have nightmares? I had the most amazing, idyllic childhood of anyone I know. And my father said his mother had the gift and that it always skips a generation. I know he was worried enough about it to ensure I learned how to fight and how to handle a weapon."

"I remember. Piper once told me that if you accepted me as your mate—notice she didn't say if I chose you—that I'd best learn to sleep with one eye open."

Skylar smiled "Only your sister would phrase it that way. All of us that run together—Mariah, Piper, Abriana, Kat…"

"Kat?" he asked.

"Kat Marino, Luca and Seraphina's daughter. She's a born vintner like her father and has her mother's fire. She lives in Italy, but I very much doubt she'll remain there. She wants desperately to move to San Francisco. And then there's Brianna."

"Kind of a quiet little mouse."

Skylar laughed. "Don't you believe it. She's like Jean-Edouard—the face they show the world is far different than the one they share with one another. But we all expected to break from the norm of wolfen society and live our own lives. So far, that hasn't been the case. Abriana is mated to Micah, Bre to my brother and now me to you. I wonder sometimes what fate has in store for Mariah, Piper and Kat."

"Now that's something I can predict: each of them will find her fated mate and heed his call whether she likes it or not."

"Not everyone finds their fated mate."

"I know, but the idea that any one of you running loose without a fated mate—even Bre—scares the hell out of me."

"Chicken!" she teased.

"Cluck! Cluck!" he responded. "But seriously, have you thought about talking to Chantal?"

"More times than I care to admit, but I keep telling myself that it isn't something that would stand up in court."

He took her hand in his. "It doesn't have to stand up in court. All it's got to do is lead us to this guy."

"Us?"

"Us. No way you're going to see Chantal with one of your cop buddies and no way I'm letting you go alone."

Skylar's cell phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, she picked up. "Robyn?"

"Sky, my grandmother just called. She wants to see you. She asked if you could come to her house straight away."

"Sure."

"Do you remember where it is?"

"I do. Tell her we'll be there in half an hour."

Skylar ended the call and looked at Travis. "Is it just me, or do you hear the theme from The Twilight Zone playing?"

"Loud and clear. Where am I going?"

"She lives in the Tremé neighborhood. The family has been there since the area was first populated. Robyn's grandfather was a cop by day and a jazz musician at night, and everybody knows Mawmaw Chantal."

They pulled up to one of the stately cottages with old-growth landscaping.

"I'm hoping the architects can find a way to incorporate this kind of look in the courtyard of the restaurant," said Travis.

"I hope they can too. Tremé is one of my favorite neighborhoods in the city. There's so much history here. A lot of these cottages have been passed down through generations, but there's been an uptick in short-term rentals lately. It's taken away from the culture that has always been such an integral part of Tremé."

"You know a lot about this place."

"I was born and bred here in New Orleans. Our pack has held this city as its shining jewel since before the Battle of New Orleans." She leaned over and kissed him. "Don't think I don't know what you're giving up to be here with me. And don't think I don't know that what you've chosen to do for me flies in the face of what has been expected of you your whole life."

"There's a part of me that's always known I would never be Alpha of Galveston. Some of my earliest adult conversations with my dad were about succession plans. Don't get me wrong, I love my home and my origin pack, I just knew it wasn't my destiny. I actually thought a couple of times that I would die with Delta Force, but I kept reminding myself that you were here waiting for me—not necessarily knowing it yet, but here nonetheless."

H e'd been out visiting his practice models. He liked to go out and study them to remind himself how much he'd improved. When he'd heard the truck, he'd hoped that it might be a girl. One he could have just for himself. But it wasn't. It was the cowboy.

Electricity had crackled all around him and then, like the Gautier bitch, human had become wolf. Fascinating. They frightened the Master. He wondered why but knew it didn't matter. He served the Master.

He'd followed the wolf as it went on its run. Several times it stopped, and he worried the wolf would detect him, but the Master kept him hidden, protected. When the wolf seemed to pick up some kind of scent, he retreated. A murderous rage almost overtook him when the wolf discovered his stash. Now the authorities would come, and they would take his mementos.

The wolves—male and female—must die. He wondered if they realized the painting of his last victim also depicted a male. Symmetry. He would see to their end and the Master wouldn't have to worry about them anymore. The Master would be pleased, and he would be rewarded.