Conduit (20 page)

Stephanie Price’s vehicle moved closer
to his location on the GPS tracking application. For the past half hour, David hid
in the dark depths of a cold ditch, waiting for her to drive by. If everything
worked out right, her car would stop in the middle of the five-mile dead zone.

As her car neared, he moved into a crouching position, where
it would be difficult for her to see him in the dark. The black tarp he
balanced on helped keep his clothing clean of any dirt or debris from the
ditch. He pulled the dead opossum close and tightened the grip of his gloved hands,
ready to pitch his football downfield for the winning touchdown. He had scooped
up the road kill earlier in the day on a nearby road, and the size of the opossum
was large enough to make an impact when it hit her fender.

Headlights blared in his direction and he flung the opossum
as hard as he could. It bounced off the top part of her fender and onto her
windshield. Her car careened and David took off. Low to the ground, he ran in
the opposite direction to his own hidden car. He jumped in his car and drove
toward Stephanie’s stopped vehicle. He pulled over on the shoulder of the road,
not too far from where he threw the opossum at her car.

David flipped on his hazard lights and climbed out of his
car. As he approached a bewildered Stephanie, she lifted her arms and shrugged
in frustration.

“What happened?” he asked, with a touch of concern in his
voice. “Are you okay?”

“I hit something. It flew onto my hood and smashed my
windshield. The whole thing is cracked. You’d think I hit a deer.”

He walked around the car and looked at the blood spattered
across the top of the fender near the hood opening and on the windshield. A
large, radial crack spread out from where the opossum crashed into the driver’s
side of the glass, while steam from her radiator polluted the air in front of
him. He couldn’t have planned the amount of damage the flying opossum caused to
her vehicle, and it all worked in his favor.

After hitting her car, the opossum had flown across the road
to the other lane. Due to the kindness Stephanie exhibited with others, David
decided to play overly nice and concerned to gain her trust. He pointed to the
dead animal. “Opossum,” he said.

“Ah, jeez,” Stephanie said. “I feel bad, but I never saw it
coming so I couldn’t avoid it.”

“I’m going to get the poor guy off the road before someone
else runs him over.” David walked to the opossum. Using the insole of his boot,
he pushed the animal into the ditch, careful not to step in blood and innards
so he wouldn’t leave an impression of his boots.

“That’s very kind and thoughtful of you,” Stephanie said. “I’m
really glad you found me. I thought it might be a long time before someone came
by.”

“Do you need me to call someone or maybe AAA for you, or do
you have your cell phone?”

Stephanie pursed her lips and shook her head. “Wouldn’t you
know we’re in a dead zone? I was talking with my roommate, but the call dropped
right before I hit that thing.”

“Yeah, those critters sure come out at the worst times, don’t
they?” He turned around and glanced at his car. “Why don’t I go check my phone?
Maybe I can get service.”

“Great idea,” Stephanie said. She shivered and rubbed her
crossed arms. “I don’t think I could have picked a colder night for this.”

“You won’t want to take a chance of doing more damage by starting
your car with the radiator steaming. My car is nice and warm, if you want to
hop in while I try to get service. I may even have to walk quite a ways, so you
can wait there to stay warm.”

“You’re such a blessing,” she said, and she started toward
his car by his side. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come
along.”

“I’m just glad I can help.” David opened the passenger side
door for her and she climbed in. “Do you mind handing me my cell phone? It’s in
the console in between the seats.”

“Sure,” Stephanie said.

She turned to get the cell phone, and David withdrew a syringe
from his jacket pocket. He uncapped it with his teeth and wrapped his hand
around her face, covering her mouth. She screamed into his hand and squirmed
about the seat. The needle slipped into her neck. She slowed her fight, and
surrendered to the Ketamine.

After putting the syringe and cap back into his pocket, David
twisted her body and faced her forward, with her head against the head rest. He
leaned into the car and clicked her seatbelt into place. They would take side roads
all the way to the farmhouse, but to any passing cars, Stephanie would appear
to have fallen asleep.

David shut the passenger side door and jogged back to her
car. He reached under the passenger side of her car and removed the GPS
tracking device. Should the police find her car after he dumped her body, he
couldn’t leave that behind to trace back to him. After he got home and secured
Stephanie in the last room she would ever see, he would use his car to run over
both the GPS device and his cell phone to completely destroy them. The cell
phone was a prepaid smartphone, and he had dozens more just like it, all paid
for with cash in different stores.

He slid into the driver’s seat and paused to look at
Stephanie. Even asleep, he could still sense her conduit abilities. He brushed
back her short blond hair, tucking it behind her ear so he could better see her
kind face.

Much stronger than Jillian and all of the conduits he used
to connect with Emily, Stephanie would be the one he remembered long after he
was with Emily. He buckled his seatbelt and shifted the car into drive. He would
have to resist the strong temptation to speed home to get her in his basement
and start his work.

Lionel paced the hallway of the
morgue, pent up anger fueling his movements. Shawn looked up at him from his
seat outside the morgue doors. “What’s up?”

Lionel stopped pacing. “This has to end. This is the last
time we’re waiting outside these doors.” He sat down in a chair and slumped
forward. “Seven women.”

“You’re right, and we’ll find him. We’re getting closer, now
that we not only have him on the security tape, but we also have the sketch
from the witness.”

“Even though we can only see the back of his head in the
tape, his hair that the witness described is consistent with the tape.”

“Are you sure you want to wait to release the sketch to the
media?” Shawn asked.

“Absolutely. I’m worried if he sees his picture on
television he’ll run and just start killing elsewhere. Every cop on the force
is looking for him. He’ll turn up soon.”

“Did you talk to Aurelio or Timmons yet about the autopsy?”

“Not yet. I had hoped they would be here still, but we must
have missed them.”

The doors to the morgue opened up. Perry held open one of
the doors and slipped his glasses on top of his head. “You wanted a leg up on
this guy,” he said.

Lionel and Shawn both jumped up at the same time. “What is
it?” Shawn asked.

“This girl is different.” Perry said. “I know your
victimology has been all over the map, but this one is not like the rest.”

“How so?” Lionel asked.

“Let me show you,” Perry said. “Aurelio and Timmons saw it at
the autopsy, but I wanted you to see it as well.” He turned and walked back into
the morgue with Lionel and Shawn at his heels.

Lionel hated going inside the morgue. He saw enough death in
his job without having to watch an autopsy as well. He had attended many
autopsies in his career, more than he cared to remember, but he still had not
grown accustomed to them.

The first room beyond the main doors was a prep room for
staff and professional visitors. Lionel and Shawn both donned surgical gowns,
latex gloves, face masks, and hair nets. Lionel always felt like a buffoon in
full garb, but he had watched enough autopsies to understand the need for Perry’s
autopsy suite requirements.

After they were dressed, Perry offered them both a jar of mentholatum
ointment. Lionel took the ointment, slathered it under each nostril, and placed
his face mask over his nose and mouth. Once Shawn did the same, they followed
Perry through the door with a sign requiring appropriate attire at all times.

Death floated in the clouds over the autopsy suite,
observing the mass of stainless steel, bright lights, and medical supplies
below. The large room contained three autopsy tables, each one on a slight
slope with a drain at the bottom of the table. A nozzle that looked like a
showerhead dangled over the tables. Next to each table was a scale to weigh
organs. Coiled plastic tubes to drain the body of fluid sparked a bit of
anxiety in Lionel’s chest. What happened to the body during an autopsy gave him
more nightmares than the crime scenes he visited.

A stainless steel tray with autopsy tools appearing more
medieval than those in a dentist’s office sat alongside each table. Though
Lionel knew everything had a purpose, he avoided looking at the instruments
that were used on the body after death. It was too much of a reminder that some
bodies needed to be violated in a gruesome manner in order to determine the way
they died. Their victim was thankfully covered up to her neck with a white
sheet. More than anything else in the autopsy suite, Lionel disliked seeing the
Y incision, even if stitched closed.

After slipping on a pair of latex gloves, Perry walked
around her body and lifted up the sheet to pull out one of her hands. He brought
down an overhead light closer to her hand, illuminating her index finger and
pinky, the only digits the killer didn’t cut off. “Look here and tell me what
you see.”

Lionel leaned over to take a closer look at her hand. “This
yellowing around her fingernails, is that what I think it is?”

Perry flashed a rare smile. “Your victim was a smoker. From
the look of her lungs, a pretty heavy one.”

Lionel straightened with Perry’s words. He turned to Shawn,
whose face showed he was digesting the new information with the same excitement
as Lionel.

“That’s why I wanted to show you. I know you’ve been looking
for this and you needed to see it for yourselves.”

“It’s definitely something we’ve been looking for,” Shawn
said.

“So why now?” Lionel asked. “Why break the one pattern in
the victimology we had and kill this girl?”

“She’s special,” Shawn said. “Something is different about
her and that’s why he chose her. He was willing to go outside his set victimology
pattern because there’s another pattern, one we don’t know about. That’s why he
went to such great lengths to mutilate her face.”

“I’m sure these are all interesting thoughts, but that’s
your world, not mine,” Perry said, his words a polite dismissal.

“We won’t keep you,” Lionel said. “Thank you for showing
this to us. When your report is ready, you’ll send it over right away?”

“Of course,” Perry said.

“Thanks,” Lionel said. “I’ve got to get everything we have
over to the FBI for their review.”

His statement caught Perry’s attention. “When are they
coming?”

“Monday,” Shawn said. “And we’re to the point that we’re
welcoming the help.”

“Just so they don’t tear apart my work,” Perry said. “Then I’m
fine.”

“Understood,” Lionel said. “Again, Perry, thank you. This
information is invaluable.”

Perry escorted them out of the autopsy suite. After they
removed their gowns and other protective wear, they entered the main hallway.

Lionel turned to Shawn. “As soon as we get an ID on this victim,
I want to know everything about her we can find. From the time she was born
until the time she ended up dead in that alley, I want every detail.”

Shawn paused in taking notes. “She’s the only one who is
different, so there must be a reason for that.”

“Let’s rush the prints through and then get everyone we have
on this. I don’t care what lead they’re following, just have them focus on her.
Let’s look at any connections she may have to other victims, anything odd in
her background that can help us. Look at family and friends as possible
suspects.”

Shawn continued scribbling in his notepad. “Do you think she
knew her killer?”

Lionel hesitated. It was such a slim chance that she knew
her killer, and he second-guessed his hunch. This victim being a smoker may not
mean anything. What they previously perceived as a pattern could simply be
coincidence. The health-nut community was growing at a rapid pace, and it was
possible that six women who ended up murdered by the same man didn’t smoke,
drink, or do drugs.

“Leo?”

But the same instinct that overcame him at the crime scene bothered
him again. Since the moment he saw her body, he couldn’t shake the thought that
something was off about the murder of this victim. He wasn’t sure why, but one
thing kept going through his mind over and over.

Lionel looked up at Shawn. “I don’t know if she knew her
killer, but he definitely knew her. There was too much anger expelled in the killing
for him not to have known her.”

Shawn watched Lionel for a moment, as if contemplating his
words. His cell phone rang and he dug it out of his pocket. “Sergeant Brandt,”
he said into the phone. After a brief conversation he ended the call.

“We have a missing persons report for a girl who disappeared
late last night,” Shawn said. “Normally they wouldn’t have taken the report
since it hasn’t been long enough, but because the girl is in the age group as
the other victims they put out an APB on her car. It was just located outside
of the city, and it’s very strange.”

“Strange how?”

“Looks like she hit some road kill and may have gotten a
ride somewhere, but her purse and cell phone are still in her car. Her roommate
says that there’s a dead zone in that area, and sure enough, the cell phone in
the car has no service.”

Lionel’s instincts jumped. “Get a crime scene unit out there
now. If our guy is the one who took her, we don’t have much longer to find her.”