She flicked on the outside porch light. Black dahlias had been scattered all over the deck and down onto the grass beside the winding river, their dark red petals stark against the snow and ice. She shivered and pointed her gun in every direction. Black dahlias had been Jason Abbott’s calling card.
She tugged her phone from her pocket to call in the trespass to both Fish and Wildlife and the local sheriff’s office. She needed this scene processed now.
“Jason?” she yelled toward the forest after she’d clicked off. “Why don’t you show courage and move into the light? Let’s talk.”
The wind whistled eerily through the trees, shaking branches and scattering piles of snow on the ground. She squinted in every direction but could see only darkness. He would’ve wanted to watch her find the dahlias. In case he was still watching, she kept her face perfectly calm.
“This is actually fairly boring,” she called out. “Really? Flowers?”
Her phone buzzed, and she lifted it to her ear. “Agent Snow.”
“Did you like my gift?” Abbott asked.
She kept her guard up, making sure to put her back to the door, just in case. She hadn’t searched the entire cabin. While there was no sign of a break-in, she wasn’t going to risk another fight with him.
“You mean these stupid flowers?” She forced derision into her tone.
He was silent. “Black dahlias. They symbolize betrayal. Women like you betray.”
“Please,” she muttered, trying to sound both insolent and bored. “This is the best you’ve got? Flowers? Show yourself, Jason. Let’s finally have this out.”
“Laurel, at least be a little appreciative. I can’t just find these like I could before. In fact, this is my last batch.” He sounded sad about that.
She took a deep breath. “Are you drowning women now instead of strangling them?”
He chuckled. “I’m adaptable, it’s true. I’m just getting started. You know I love the long game.”
That was a falsehood. He had difficulties with impulse control. She decided to take a page out of Abigail’s book. “I’ve talked to several professional women in the area, and we’re all consentient about you.”
“What?” he asked.
She could play his game better than he could, and she wasn’t even a game player. “Come on. We both know that you are fearful of educated women and not up to sesquipedalian discussion.”
He remained silent.
She could utilize even larger words with him, but she figured she’d angered him enough.
“You think I’m stupid?” he snapped.
“I do think you’re stupid,” she agreed. “I think you’re an absolute moron.” She eyed the tree line carefully. If he hid out there, he wouldn’t be able to keep from rushing her, yet no movement showed.
“You have no idea who I am,” he hissed.
She chuckled, and the sound carried on the wind. “I know exactly who you are. You’re a little boy who likes to throw tantrums by tossing flowers around. You’re silly, Jason. Pathetic.”
“Enjoy your evening, Agent Snow,” he snarled. “I’m coming for you soon.”
* * *
Upon rushing home, Huck had searched the entire area around his cabin until finally joining her in bed, having found no evidence left by Jason Abbott. After a night of fitful dreams that involved drowning, Laurel worked overtime in her quiet office, concerned more bodies would be found soon. She poured through the case files on Jason Abbott, a cup of tea on her desk and a half-eaten breakfast burrito in the garbage. The local police had also searched for Abbott in the area around Huck’s cabin to no avail, not that she’d expected a glowing arrow pointing to his location.
Huck was currently being interviewed by FBI Agent Norrs and Fish and Wildlife Deputy Chief Wright, and she wished she could be there with him. For him.
Kate appeared in the doorway and brought her a can of ginger ale. “Here you go. This sometimes helps. I heard you throwing up again.”
Laurel looked up, still feeling nauseated. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to come in on a Saturday.”
“If you’re working, so am I.” Kate smiled, dressed down in brown jeans and a pretty pink sweater. “How far along are you?”
