Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“I’ve never been in here.” Christian pulled out one of the chairs to sit.
“Yeah, most people haven’t,” Dutch said. “We only use it if we have cases in the area. And every once in a while, if I have to crash somewhere and can’t find a bed.” He glanced down at the tile. “Believe me, I always try to find a bed.”
The cracked floor looked less inviting than a pine needle covered trail for sleeping. “Why don’t you just use the sheriff’s office?”
“Because Alaska doesn’t really have sheriffs.” Dutch coughed into his hand, his shoulders shuddering. “Just because we let Knife’s Edge have its idiosyncrasies doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t follow the law. Plus, I like my own space.”
The air smelled faintly of old cleaner and warm dust. As a space, Christian didn’t figure it was too bad. He’d lived in worse.
Movement sounded outside and the door opened. “Hi.” Ophelia crossed inside, today dressed in dark jeans, black boots, and a black leather jacket. Even after months in Knife’s Edge, she still looked like a city girl. She held out a hand. “I’m Agent Spilazi. My boss called yours, and they told me to meet you here.”
Ah, Dutch wasn’t going to like this. Christian moved to intercede and then caught the look in Dutch’s eyes.
The gnarled trooper stood taller and smoothed back his wild gray hair before taking her hand in both of his. “I, ah, I should’ve called you myself, and I apologize for that.”
Christian snapped his mouth shut. Had Dutch just said he was sorry? What was happening?
Ophelia smiled, looking like a movie star. “That’s all right. I’m so happy to meet you. Brock says such fine things about you.”
Pink wound beneath Dutch’s weathered cheeks. “Ah, now, that’s nice.”
Was he fucking blushing? Christian just watched, unable to do anything else.
Dutch drew Ophelia over to one of the chairs. “This is the best we have right now, but I’ll find better ones, I promise.” He brushed off the seat with his bare hand.
“Oh, it’s fine.” Ophelia sat. “Thank you for working with me on this. One of the bodies was found on federal land.”
“Of course. I’m so happy to have your help.” Dutch reached into his jacket, pulled out three folded papers, and pinned them to the corkboard with silver thumbtacks. Each page showed a location. Two had photos. The kind that didn’t need captions.
Christian stood, walked closer, and looked them over. He pointed at the third page. “This is where the body Brock and Ophelia found disappeared.” They’d found the middle-aged man, wearing an EVE sweatshirt, with his eyes gouged out, but had to find shelter from a storm. When they returned, the body was gone.
Ophelia crossed her long legs. “Yeah, that looks like the place. We were freezing, so my memory isn’t great. I can’t believe the body disappeared.”
“We’ll figure it out. We have the two other victims to study as well.” Dutch tapped the first picture. “The first victim was a woman, around forty. Dressed in black, she was found on her back with her eyes removed.”
Christian frowned. “When?”
“Six months ago.” Dutch motioned to the next photo. “The next vic was a male in his seventies or early eighties. Same thing. Eyes missing.”
Ophelia studied the photos. “How did they die?”
“They were stabbed. Each sustained multiple wounds, but it was hard to tell exactly how many.”
Christian stepped back. “What about the eyes? Gouged out how?”
Dutch sighed. “Some kind of tool. We haven’t identified it. Lab hasn’t either.”
Christian dragged his hands down his face. “So you have both bodies. These at least didn’t disappear.”
Dutch nodded. “Yes. They were autopsied up in Anchorage, and the cause of both deaths was from stabbings. The eye removal happened after.”
All right. So the monster walked on two feet. “A person did this. Not animals.”
Dutch coughed. “Sorry. I’m fighting something. The coroner won’t say that outright. He can’t rule out scavenging, but the marks don’t match anything usual.”
Christian glanced at the board. “Three bodies in a year. All missing eyes.”
“Four,” Dutch said. “If you count Tamara Randsom.”
Christian exhaled slowly. “She was killed by Melissa. I found the body, remember?” He had been sorry to find the mother dead in that warming hut. He turned to check on Ophelia. Melissa had shot her and nearly killed her.
“I’m fine,” Ophelia said, her jaw hardening. “Melissa swears she didn’t touch Tamara’s eyes.”
“But they were taken out.” Dutch pulled a fourth photo from his back pocket, flattened it against his leg, and tacked it to the board beside the others.
Christian looked at the picture of Tamara in that warming hut. Melissa had been obsessed with Brock. She’d killed Tamara because she believed Tamara and Brock had spent the night together. The reality was different. Tamara had been with Ace. By the time Melissa learned the truth, it didn’t matter. Tamara was already dead. Melissa still claimed she left the body in a warming hut, ensuring it would be found. She also swore she hadn’t touched the eyes. “Is there any way Melissa killed the other three victims?”