Rogue wolf, p.10
Rogue Wolf, page 10
She sighed. “Well, that all matches the details of the crime scene, from the tire tracks at the edge of the lot to the boot print and the crushed grass. It’s not much to go on, but this is the first time anyone has caught sight of the killer. Even if it only confirms the gender and build of the suspect, that’s still more than we had before.”
“If that was all there was, I’d definitely take it,” Trey replied as she leaned in and took detailed shots of the thigh end of the leg. “But in this case, one of the witnesses over in the camp gave us something else. Something big.”
Samantha stopped what she was doing to raise a brow questioningly. “How big?”
“The big guy got out the passenger side of the truck,” Trey said, nodding when her eyes widened. “Yeah, there was someone else driving. The person didn’t get out to help, and between the darkness and the rain, the witnesses couldn’t see much, but they said the silhouette they could make out was definitely a man.”
Samantha considered the implications of that. As far as she knew, serial killers were a solitary lot, regardless of what some of the people on the task force thought. The fact that this one had a partner must be significant. It also called into question another previous assumption. Namely, the idea that the big man who’d been leaving the deep boot prints behind was the killer might be wrong. Maybe he was simply the muscle of the operation. Maybe the man who stayed in the vehicle was the killer. Considering the combination of precise and inexact cuts she’d found on the bodies, it looked like the people who’d been pushing the theory about two killers might be right.
“I don’t suppose anyone got a look at the vehicle’s license plate?” she asked.
While it was interesting to know there were now two suspects in the Butcher case, it didn’t necessarily help them very much.
Trey shook his head. “The truck was here for less than five minutes and no one in the camp even considered coming out of their tents to take a closer look. Not that I blame them. Hell, none of them even bothered to look at what they dumped until this morning.”
From the corner of her eye, Samantha saw Trey move a little further along the crime scene tape, staying outside it, but obviously trying to get a better view of remains. She even saw him lean in a little and take a sniff, though she had no idea what the hell that was about.
“Do you think these parts are from the previous bodies we already recovered?” Trey asked curiously. “Or does this mean there are even more victims out there that we don’t know about?”
She grimaced. “I won’t know until I get a closer look at everything, start blood typing, cross matching, and running DNA profiles. But man, I hope these aren’t completely new victims. If they are, this killer is even more bloodthirsty than we thought.”
Trey watched while she finished the last of the photos, then mapped out where all the parts were positioned, taking pages of notes on each. He let her work without interruption, even though he probably had hundreds of questions. Samantha discovered she liked his company. It was the most pleasant time she’d ever had at a crime scene.
There is something wrong with you, a little voice whispered in the back of her head. Very, very wrong with you.
She was at a crime scene, standing over a gruesome collection of amputated body parts, thinking about how much fun she was having. Like she was on a date.
Samantha was halfway through bagging up the partial arm, noting the circular-shaped scar on the center of the inner part of the forearm, when Trey spoke.
“I know this is probably a weird time to ask,” he said softly, obviously concerned about being overheard by the other cops nearby, “but I thought you might want to get together tonight.”
She smiled. “Sure. I’ll text you later and let you know when I’m wrapping up at the institute.”
He returned her smile. “Sounds good.”
Trey went back to watching as she continued picking up the various remains. Samantha tried to focus on what she was doing, but saying she was a little distracted would be an understatement. Especially when she was so keenly aware of his gaze on her.
“Are those burn scars on the leg?” he suddenly asked, almost making her jump.
Samantha looked over to see him leaning across the tape, pointing toward the leg she’d been in the process of picking up. She’d noticed the built-up scar tissue along the top and inside of the thigh area earlier, but looking at it again, she realized it was even worse than she’d first thought, the burns wrapping all the way around to the back of the leg and down past the knee. She could see the crosshatch markings indicative of extensive skin graft work and pressure dressings. Whoever this poor guy had been, he’d lived a life filled with pain.
“Yeah,” she finally answered. “Pretty bad burn scars, too.”
Trey looked thoughtful at that but didn’t comment, and Samantha found herself wondering what kind of experience he had with burns. Had he seen them often during his time as a medic in the army?
She was putting the remains of the leg into an evidence bag when she caught sight of Trey leaning forward, his nostrils flaring as if he was trying to catch a stray scent. She wasn’t sure why it struck her that way, but she couldn’t help thinking the movement was almost predatory.
“What’s that smell?” he asked, sniffing the air. “It smells like a cleanser or disinfectant, but it’s kind of flowery, too. Like perfume. There’s a bit of a burnt electrical odor to it as well, but it’s really light.”
Samantha didn’t have a clue what Trey was talking about, but she leaned closer to the leg and took a good sniff anyway, surprised when she actually picked up a scent that seemed out of place on a chunk of human remains. And while she couldn’t say she smelled anything that even hinted at burnt electricity, she was sure she smelled flowers…and something sharper. But it was really faint. She could barely smell it even with her nose almost touching the skin. She had no idea how Trey had been able to pick up the odor from ten feet away.
“I think it’s some kind of antiseptic body wash,” she said slowly.
“Antiseptic body wash?” Trey repeated, looking as baffled as she felt. “You mean like the stuff they give patients to use before they go in for surgery?”
She nodded, kind of surprised he knew that, even with his medic background. “It’s definitely used for that. But I’ve known doctors, nurses, and other people in the medical field who use it to wash up after work.”
Trey frowned as he considered that. “But why would something like that be on the remains of a serial killer’s victim?”
All Samantha could do was shrug as she finished bagging up the leg for transport. Because she’d been wondering the exact same thing and didn’t have a clue.
Chapter 10
“Thanks for coming with me,” Trey said, amazed at how nervous he felt as he pulled into the parking lot of the low-budget motel off Interstate 20 near Lawson. “I have to warn you in advance that Kyson can be a little intimidating. He’s a big guy and sort of intense.”
Trey smiled as he thought of his old army buddy Kyson Daughtry. Well over six feet tall and super muscular, his blond, blue-eyed friend was a monster of a man, so calling him “big” was putting it mildly. He cursed under his breath when he heard Samantha’s heart begin to beat a little faster. Realizing he was making her nervous, he did his best to backtrack.
“But don’t worry,” he added quickly, parking in a space around the backside of the building. The rooms there were the cheapest the motel had, and the only ones his friend could afford with his veteran’s benefits. “I think you and Kyson will hit it off. He might be kind of gruff, but he’s a teddy bear at heart. He’ll be thrilled to meet you.”
For Trey, introducing Samantha to Kyson was like bringing her meet his family. He and Kyson might not be related by blood, but after everything they’d gone through in Afghanistan together, they were as close as brothers. Maybe closer.
“That’s cool you and Kyson stayed in touch after you guys got out of the army,” she said, hopping out of his Jeep before he could come around and open the door for her.
Trey nodded as they walked toward his old friend’s room. It was even cooler that she hadn’t minded stopping to see Kyson on the way to dinner. Being around the homeless camp today had reminded him that he hadn’t checked in on his buddy in a while and that he was way overdue for a visit.
“Kyson is actually the reason I ended up in Dallas after getting out of the army,” he admitted. “Remember that firefight in Afghanistan I told you about that happened right before I was supposed to reenlist? Kyson was that best friend who ended up in worse shape than I did.”
“What happened to him?”
“A rocket-propelled grenade slammed into the truck we took cover behind. It hit the gas tank and sent me flying, but Kyson wasn’t so lucky. When the truck blew, flames engulfed him, covering the lower half of his body.” Trey winced at the memory. “It was so bad that he got transferred to the military hospital in San Antonio for long-term care. I moved to Dallas to be close to him and would drive down there a few times a month to see him. He stayed in the army a lot longer than I did, but spent all of that time rehabbing his injuries. They finally medically discharged him about three years ago.”
“That’s terrible.” Samantha looked around, taking in the run-down motel and its dirty surroundings, the empty beer cans and other trash lying in the corner of the stairwell. “No one should have to live in a place like this, but it seems even more of a shame for a veteran who’s served his country.”
“Unfortunately, his VA benefits aren’t enough for him to afford anything else,” Trey said. “Kyson hasn’t handled the transition back to civilian life very well and there’s still some stuff he’s working through that makes it hard for him to hold down a job. I do what I can to help, but he won’t take any money from me, so I have to settle for stopping by to see him every week or so.”
Damn, now he was babbling, not to mention telling her way more than she probably wanted to know. But the connection he had with Samantha made it easy to confide in her about things. Maybe that came with the territory when a werewolf found The One, making it easier to tell your mate what you were.
“I’d do so much more for him if he’d let me,” Trey added. “I told him he could move in with me until he saved up some money for a nicer place, but he’s proud as hell, and if I do too much, he gets pissed and thinks I’m trying to take care of him. He thinks it makes him a charity case and he hates that.”
“Does he have anyone in his life besides you?” Samantha asked, empathy clear in her eyes. “Any family?”
Trey shook his head. “Not really. He doesn’t have any family, and after what happened in Afghanistan, he does a good job of pushing people away. God knows he tries hard enough to get me to walk away. I’ve seen him with a homeless woman named Shaylee at the food bank a few times, though. She frigging adores Kyson, but he refuses to see it. He doesn’t think he’s good enough for her.”
He smiled a little when they got to Kyson’s room. Unlike the rest of the place, the exterior walkway was clear of all trash and dirt. Kyson liked his surroundings neat and orderly, always had. He might be down on his luck right now, but that didn’t mean he wanted to look like it.
“I can’t wait for you to meet him. I promise you’re going to like him,” Trey told Samantha again as he knocked on the door.
When Kyson didn’t make an appearance, Trey knocked again, a little harder this time, leaning in closer to the door to try to pick up any sounds from within the room. His friend was always home by this time of the day, since all of the manual labor temporary jobs usually finished up by six o’clock. And while Kyson would occasionally buy some beer and drink a little bit too much when he did, then go to sleep early, that was normally on the weekends when he didn’t have to get up with the sun in order to find work.
“He’s gone,” a rough voice said from their left. “Manager already cleared out the room and everything. Gave away all his stuff…what there was of it.”
Trey turned to see a skinny guy with a scraggly gray beard standing there.
“What do you mean gone?” Trey asked.
He got a sinking feeling in his stomach while he waited for the man to answer. It hit him then that the familiar scent he associated with his friend was so faint it was almost nonexistent.
“He killed himself three weeks ago,” the guy said bluntly. “I found him hanging in his shower. I heard some noise in his room and thought he might be in trouble, so I came over to check, but I was too late.”
Trey stopped listening, his whole world coming to a screeching halt. There was no way in hell that Kyson could be dead. He wouldn’t kill himself. He would have called Trey if he even thought of doing something like that.
That was a lie. Kyson had never called him when he’d needed help or anything else. How many times had his friend told him that he didn’t want to be a burden? And how many times had Trey told him that he wasn’t?
Trey vaguely heard Samantha talking to the man, heard the guy say something about Kyson being fired from a job for getting mad and punching someone. From what the man said, Trey got the feeling his friend had been fired from quite a few jobs lately. He and Kyson had shared a couple boxes of pizza and breadsticks a little over three weeks ago, and his friend had never breathed a word of any of this to him.
Dammit, why hadn’t he realized his friend was hurting?
Trey didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the conversation as Samantha continued to talk with the man, getting a small cardboard box from him before asking who had come to pick up the body. Trey knew all of that was important, but right then, he simply couldn’t process any more. Kyson was gone. Nothing seemed to make sense at the moment.
A little while later, they ended up at Samantha’s office at the institute, though Trey could barely remember even getting back in the Jeep, much less her driving them there. He was somewhat baffled about why they’d gone there until he heard Louis explain to Samantha that Kyson’s death had been ruled a suicide and that there was no need for a full autopsy. He even showed them paperwork to prove it.
“UT Southwestern handles burial assistance for Dallas County in cases like this,” Louis added softly, his eyes kind behind his glasses, seeming to know that Kyson had been important to him. “We were able to confirm his military background, so the VA paid for most of the cremation. The county covered the rest. With no next of kin, there was no one to send the ashes to. I’m sorry, but he’s gone.”
Trey mumbled his thanks, then let Samantha guide him out to the Jeep again. Fifteen minutes later, he was sitting in a chair at the small table in her kitchen, sipping on the whiskey she’d pulled out of the back of a cabinet, numbly watching as she made soup and sandwiches for dinner.
“You don’t have to make anything.” He took a large swallow of his drink even though it was nearly impossible for a werewolf to get drunk on anything less than a case of whiskey. “I asked you to dinner, so we should go somewhere.”
Samantha gave him a small smile as she continued to stir the soup. “I thought maybe it would be better if we hung out here and talked for a while.”
And in that moment, Trey realized he was so completely done for. Even if he attempted to ignore the whole damn soul-mate thing, he was going to have to accept that Samantha had slipped in and taken up residence in his chest—right where his heart was. After spending little more than a long weekend with him, she was smart enough to know he was in no shape to be going anywhere, so she’d taken him to her place and made them soup and sandwiches. If she pulled out a bag of Fritos, he was going to have to do something serious, like wash her windows or something.
“Talking would be good,” he answered, enjoying this little domestic moment, even if it came in the middle of the shittiest night he’d had in a long time.
When Samantha brought over the soup and sandwiches, she was carrying a bag of corn chips, too. Which, yeah, put a smile on his face. Sitting down across from him, she pulled the small cardboard box he’d seen her get from the neighbor at Kyson’s apartment closer. Trey stared down at the bowl of tomato soup in front of him as she opened the box and reached inside.
“What’s this?” she asked, holding up a piece of framework covered in rectangles of colorful cloth and tiny bits of metal.
Trey’s breath caught as he stared at the thing in Samantha’s delicate hand. He hadn’t realized his friend had even kept anything from his days in the military.
“It’s Kyson’s ribbon rack.” Spoon in one hand, he reached out the other to run a finger over the stiff pieces of fabric. “They’re his award and campaign ribbons from when he was in the army. They’re worn on a soldier’s dress uniform on the left side, over his heart. I didn’t know he kept his.”
Samantha was silent for a while as she ate spoonfuls of soup. “Do you have one?” When Trey nodded, she pointed at the rack of ribbons. “I assume the different colors mean something special, right? And these little pieces of metal in the middle of these ribbons mean something, too?”
Trey knew exactly what Samantha was doing. She was dragging him out of the darkness in his head and he loved her for it.
“Yeah. Every ribbon has a meaning, especially to the soldier who receives them.” He tapped the rack. “And these little pieces of metal as you call them are oak leaf clusters and knots that signify multiple awards. One cluster means the second award and two clusters means the third award. The rules with the knots are a little different simply because the army refuses to make anything easy, but you get the basic idea.”
Samantha laughed as she took a bite of her turkey and cheese sandwich. “Tell me about the ribbons and what they all mean. And if you know why Kyson got them, I’d love to hear the stories.”
