Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

G ibson showed up at their cabin a few minutes later.

Andi and the gang had known it was important for him to see this beard for himself. That he checked for any evidence the police might need in building a case.

But as soon as he saw what had been drawn on the mirror, he shook his head, a grim expression in his gaze. “I don’t like the look of this.”

“None of us do,” Andi said as she stood in the hallway, trying to give him space.

Gibson turned and glanced first at Duke and then at Ranger. “This guy could be targeting either of you.”

Andi watched as Duke ran a hand over his beard. Then she had visions of what the killer might do to him if he ever got his hands on Duke.

The blood drained from her face at the very thought.

They had to catch this guy before he struck again. They had no other choice. Because she couldn’t stomach the thought of Duke or Ranger going through that kind of pain. Of either of them no longer being with them.

“This guy’s clearly sending a message.” She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to get the images out of her mind.

“But this doesn’t fit his MO.” Gibson remained in the bathroom but turned toward them as they gathered around the doorway. “The December Dismemberer doesn’t normally give any type of hint about what is going on or what he’s planning.”

“I find that suspicious also,” Duke said. “Why change now? Besides, he’s never struck the same place twice.”

“Maybe something changed,” Gibson said. “Or maybe this is someone just trying to frighten you, to get you to leave this area.”

Andi had thought of that also. “I can’t help but think that someone is trying to shut this camp down.”

Gibson’s gaze darkened. “I’ve had that thought as well.”

Andi studied his expression a moment.

He knew something they didn’t, didn’t he?

She waited to hear if he would share.

What wasn’t Gibson telling them? Duke wondered. Because there was clearly something else on his mind.

“Gibson . . . ?” He stared at his friend.

Gibson let out a breath. “Look, I’m not supposed to share information like this. But all of us . . . we’ve been through some things together, haven’t we?”

“That would be an understatement.” Ranger offered a wry expression.

Gibson let out an exhausted chuckle. “Yes, it would be. The truth is, I did an extensive background check on Caleb Brinley.”

“And?” Andi asked.

“Caleb Brinley from Montana died in 1979.”

Duke’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

Gibson nodded. “Caleb Brinley, as we know him, does not legally exist.”

“Wait . . . so Juniper’s boyfriend found a dead man named Caleb Brinley and took on his identity?” Mariella’s forehead wrinkled.

“That’s how it appears.”

“Was he in witness protection or something?” Simmy asked.

“It’s really hard to find out that information,” Gibson said. “My colleagues with the US Marshals usually don’t like to share it with me. But I did put in a request. I’m waiting to hear back.”

“Did you check Caleb’s place?” Duke asked. “Andi and I saw some of it, but we didn’t go through everything.”

“We did check out his cabin, but we didn’t find anything of note,” Gibson said. “However, Caleb had an office in the garage where the UTVs are stored.”

Duke’s heart thumped in his ears. They’d found something, hadn’t they?

He waited for his friend to continue.

“Under one of the floorboards, we found a box. Inside there was a thousand dollars cash, some fake IDs, a gun, and a knife.”

“A knife? Could it be the one used to . . . ?” Duke couldn’t finish the statement.

Gibson’s expression remained grim. “We’re going to test it for trace evidence.”

Duke rubbed his jaw. “Fake IDs? Wads of cash? It sounds like something Ranger might have had at one time.”

Ranger had worked for the CIA, where fake IDs and go-bags were an everyday part of his life.

“I thought about that, but this Caleb guy doesn’t strike me as the CIA type,” Gibson said. “Could be wrong.”

“It’s something to explore,” Ranger said with a grunt. “But he doesn’t strike me as a spook either.”

“Caleb was definitely hiding something and definitely in some type of trouble.” Gibson paused and let out a slow breath. “However, I don’t think he’s our serial killer.”

Duke wanted to argue. He wanted to believe Caleb was guilty. But he knew the truth.

Caleb didn’t fit the MO of the killer.

Two separate crimes were going on here.

Now they needed to comb through what was what.