“What’s that?”
“You can’t trace them to a specific gun.They fragment so completely that it’s impossible to determine signature marks or striations that would identify a particular weapon.The killer could hand you the gun, and if he’s cleaned it recently, like a responsible gun owner, then there would be no evidence that it was ever used in the commission of a crime.”
Faith nodded.That was more evidence that their killer had planned these murders.
But why?And why these two?
As always, that was the most important question and one to which they had no answer yet.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“It has to be the dogs,” Faith said.“That’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Yeah, I figured that,” Jessica said.“That’s why I knew you were going to be on the case sooner or later.”
The two of them were at Quantico Police Department headquarters.Meyers had greeted them with an array of finger foods and a cooler full of drinks.Faith was grateful for the sergeant’s hospitality and sympathetic to his emotions.Quantico was home to the FBI Academy, a Marine Corps Base, this police station and a Stafford County Sheriff’s Office precinct.If you sneezed in any direction, snot was going to land on someone in law enforcement or the military.
That was probably why their killer had opted for untraceable bullets.He was walking a thin line killing his victims here.
Turk rested on the floor, staring at the wall and dealing with his own emotions.From time to time, Faith would head over to him to pet him a little and let him know she was here.He responded gratefully each time, but he didn’t seek out further affection.He was a lot like Faith in that he sometimes needed to be alone with his thoughts.
“I don’t think it’s a hitman, though,” Faith said.“It could be, but I feel like a hitman would have killed the dogs.Clubs are a lot harder to conceal than .22s.I don’t see a professional walking around with an eighteen-inch leather wrapped stick.”
“Then again, no one has seemed to notice anyone carrying an eighteen-inch leather wrapped stick,” Jessica said.“No one’s noticed anything suspicious.”
Faith frowned.“Yeah, that’s incredible to me.It makes me wonder if the killer is playing some sort of game.See how many I can kill before someone actually notices me.”
“Hmm.”Jessica bit her lip.“So, let’s say this has to do with the dogs.Why would the killer take their lives in front of their dogs?Could they have been abusing the animals?”
“I doubt it,” Faith said.“The dogs both stayed close to where their owners fell.They wouldn’t show that kind of loyalty if they were abused.Not to mention that Luna—that’s the dog from yesterday—was despondent when we saw her.”
“Jealousy thing?”Jessica suggested.“Like Jacob Moss?”
Faith shivered.Jacob Moss was a veteran with a traumatic brain injury who lost his working dog overseas and thanks to a combination of delusion and envy had decided that Turk was a reincarnation of his long-lost dog.He had killed three people to punish them for crimes against working dogs and planned to kill Faith to steal Turk.Thankfully, he had a moment of clarity before he went through with the plan and instead turned himself into the authorities so he could be incarcerated in a mental health facility and kept from killing other people.
“No, this isn’t like Jacob,” she told Jessica.“Jacob was delusional, and his killings reflected it.This guy’s organized, but not ritualistic.He’s very practical.He knows the victims frequent dog parks, he knows where there’s cover, he kills them, beats the dogs off, then leaves.No time wasted staging bodies or leaving messages.
“How does he get away with it, though?Like, how do the dogs not warn their owners before they end up in danger?I mean, the killer has to be right up close.I feel like if this guy came after you, Turk would see him from a mile away.”
Faith tilted her head.“That’s a good point.I didn’t see Turk react to any unusual scents at the crime scenes, but maybe the killer had something in place to distract the dogs until he could get up close.Or maybe he masked his scent.”
“I’ll talk to Stafford County,” Jessica said.“Maybe their CSI picked something up.”
“Talk to Meyers too,” Faith said.“Quantico PD handled the Iris Caldwell scene.”
While Jessica stepped out to handle that, Faith dug into the personal lives of their two victims.She still didn’t get a personal feeling from this killer, but there was a reason somewhere in there whether there were hard feelings attached or not.
Iris Caldwell was a retired loan officer.That career alone was probably enough to earn her a few enemies, but if so, none of them had bothered to declare their enmity on social media.Her feeds were filled with friends, family, and coworkers sharing memories, laughing at inside jokes, and gushing about what an amazing person she was.The bank, a major national chain, was paying for her memorial, which was not something companies did.So, she must have been at least a decent human being.
Mark Patterson didn’t have quite so many friends on his social media, but by all accounts, he seemed to be a dutiful parks employee who genuinely loved his job and genuinely loved dogs.Most of his pictures were of him and Beau on adventures.He was an avid hunter, and if his annual pictures of downed bucks were any indication, a very good shot.It was too bad he didn’t have his rifle on him when he was attacked.
Not that it would have mattered since he was shot in the back of the head, Faith reminded herself.
She leaned back in her chair and chewed on the tip of her pen.She tried to create a basic profile of their killer.He was tall and strong, confident too.He carried a club, so he knew he was going to have to protect himself from dogs.That meant he had at least a basic understanding of his victims.No one had reported a suspicious presence at either park, so he probably wasn’t stalking them, but he knew they spent time at those parks.
Or he didn’t, and he just happened to show up and happened to pick a victim.
She shook her head and got up, pacing around the room.That wasn’t true.He had distracted the dogs somehow.He had chosen a murder weapon that required him to get close, and he had to have hadsomethingin place, at least temporarily, to keep the dogs from warning their owners.There was forethought here.
