“I read your last couple of posts in the cab from the airport early this morning,” he said. “Any major developments since then?”
“A few, but you first. What the hell happened down there?”
The good news, it turned out, was that Beau had managed to shoot almost everything he’d been commissioned to include in the documentary, and even a bit extra for color. But the day before they were going to wrap, a crew member was hit by a car, and Beau had to negotiate the best medical care while miles away from a decent-seeming hospital. And the cell service had sucked, of course. Beau had spent hours with the guy at the hospital and then taken a torturous bus ride back to Bogotá.
Eventually I sensed that the subject was exhausting him, plus, he was clearly eager to hear more about my situation. I relayed my conversation with Kelly, as well as the details Killian had discouraged me from including in my posts.
“Okay, just so I have it straight,” Beau said. “As of this moment, Sean, the guy who apparently murdered the two girls, hasn’t been located.”
“Right, though now that the cops have Dirk Hagen’s name, they can probably figure out who he is andwherehe is.”
“And this Sean guy must have a religious fixation, right?”
“It looks that way, though maybe it had less to do with an experience during his upbringing than the crazy state his brain was in when he was high on drugs. Clearly Dirk described the wounds to Cody and he replicated them on Shannon’s body so there’d be a connection.”
“Do you think Cody killed her at home?”
I shrugged, still unsure.
“I’m torn about that. In one sense it might have seemed safer to murder her at home, but a neighbor could have reported seeing his car pull into the driveway again. And Shannon might have been able to put up a decent fight on her own turf. So I’m thinking he drove around till he found her jogging on a deserted stretch of road and made up an excuse for why she needed to come with him—like one of the kids was in the ER. And he strangled her right in the car.”
“But would he have made the stigmata marks there, too?”
“No, it would have left blood in the car. Plus, he’s probablysmart enough to know that you only have a short window before a body leaves a scent that a cadaver dog can pick up. I bet he drove her body to Sunset Bay as fast as possible and cut her before putting her body in the contractor bag.”
“Is he the one who called you?”
“Well, they found a voice adapter on him. I don’t think you need those for bottling beer and soda.”
“Why do you think he picked you to call and drop the clue to?”
“That was a fluke, I’d say. He wanted the bodies found fairly soon so people would blame a serial killer. He must have spotted me talking to the deacon and realized that by calling me and referencing Shannon’s Catholicism, he could make the religious angle even stronger.”
“So Shannon’s going back to church didn’t really play a role in everything, right?”
“Not directly. I pursued that line pretty aggressively, but I guess you could say my theory was right church/wrong pew, if you’ll excuse the expression. Shannon didn’t cross paths with the killer at church, as I’d originally speculated, but I bet she started going to mass again because she’d discovered her husband was a criminal and found herself in a terrible moral dilemma.”
I sat up, scooted to the edge of the bed, and kicked off my boots.
“You want a water?” I asked.
“Sure.”
As I grabbed us each a bottle, I could feel Beau’s eyes onme, watching intently. Maybe after days apart, he found me fetching in a top that I’d worn three times in a row without washing, though I suspected there was something else on his mind.
“Last night must have been terrifying for you, Bailey,” he said finally. “You going to cough up more details?”
“Sure,” I said, plopping on the edge of the bed. I fleshed out the situation for him, without obfuscation. More than once a little voice in my head whispered that because of the red-hot—and to some degree, self-engendered—danger I’d placed myself in, I was going to badly rock the delicate truce we’d established about my job.
When I was finished, Beau sat up himself and put an arm around me.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“And?”
“You mean, am I upset?”
“Yeah.”
