"I have a feeling that something is staring us in the face, but we're just not seeing it," May complained as she drove.
"I wish I could think what it is," Owen said with a sigh.
Maybe when she got the case files in front of her, and was able to read through the updated information, that elusive thought would be clearer. Once more, she felt the sense of urgency flare within her. She knew they were in a race against time, with an unknown adversary.
The stakes could not be higher. Lives in this small, peaceful community were at risk. And, right now, she and Owen were at a disadvantage because they had no idea who they were up against. As she drove through the quiet farmland, interspersed only by the occasional lights of farmhouses, she couldn't help wondering with a sense of unease where the killer was now.
Was he among this community, part of the local population, a local man who for some unknown reason had decided to start killing?
Or was he new to town, a recent arrival in the community? Was he a hired hand who was setting out on a murder spree, knowing that he’d be leaving town free and clear in a few weeks?
As she was turning that angle over in her mind, her phone rang. May jumped at the sound, quickly grabbing her cell.
It was Sheriff Jack, and with a sick feeling in her stomach, May answered. For her boss to be calling at this time of night, May feared the worst had happened, and when she heard Jack's voice, his tone confirmed it.
"May, it’s bad news,” he said. She quickly put the phone on speaker, so Owen could hear.
“Has there been another kill?” she asked, her mouth suddenly dry.
“Yes, there’s just been a killing called in and it looks like the same perpetrator.” She heard Owen gasp in shock as Jack continued. “It’s on the Hopeford farm. A woman’s body has just been found in the barn. I'll send you the coordinates. I'm on the way to the scene already. Join me as soon as you can."
"We'll be there in ten minutes," May said.
She felt fear and discouragement fill her as she confronted the truth.
He'd killed again, already, in a shockingly close interval. Three victims had died at his hands.
She had a terrible feeling that he was only getting started. They were in a race against time. And the killer was already far ahead.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"No, no," May murmured to herself as she swerved onto the road leading out to the farms, ready to speed toward the crime scene they had been too slow to prevent. She sensed Owen glancing at her in concern. She couldn’t hide how upset and traumatized she felt at this new tragedy.
She flicked the lights of her car on, the bright blue and red flashing colors illuminating the pitch-dark night.
This farm was farther away than the other two. It wasn't in the same area but was a few miles deeper into the countryside. May didn't know the Hopeford farm personally, but she knew that this area was one of the poorer ones, with a few properties that had fallen into disrepair after their owners had died, and a few that were still operational, but on more of a subsistence scale.
"He's done it, May. Killed again, while we were chasing down the wrong suspect. If only we'd been able to stop this,” Owen muttered, echoing May's troubled thoughts exactly.
"I just wish we had gotten more information on him," she said angrily, feeling that the burden of blame lay squarely on her own shoulders. "We were identifying leads and suspects from the moment this happened. Why did we fail in getting to the right one?”
“It happens,” Owen said, and now May could see he was trying to make her feel better. “We can only work with the evidence we have. Maybe at this scene, we'll find what we need to catch him."
"I hope we do," May said somberly.
The car sped into the night, along the dark and quiet roads leading to this small, struggling farming community where now, a tragedy had occurred.
In another minute, May could see the flashing lights of the police cars along the road they were traveling and heard the distant wail of the siren that was leading her toward the scene.
They pulled up outside the farmhouse, next to two other police cars, one of which May recognized as Sheriff Jack's.
She and Owen climbed out, and hurried toward the source of the activity, which May saw was in the large and rather tumbledown wooden barn about fifty yards from the house. As she rushed toward the darkened building, a bright white light was turned on from inside. May knew from its powerful glow that this was a police light, set up to allow the coroner to work. She hadn't seen a coroner's van and guessed that wherever Andy Baker was, he was farther away and still driving here. She was sure all the same emotions were going through his mind too.
As she reached the barn, she heard a man's voice, tearful, slurred with drink.
"How could this happen?" he wailed. "What's going on here? It's my farm! My property! What's a killer doing here? My wife was supposed to live! How has this happened?"
She hurried into the barn and was greeted by the sight of a gray-haired man, hunched over, and leaning on a teetering stack of old hay bales. The man was wearing a dressing gown and old, scuffed slippers. Sobbing, his head buried in his hands, he reeled from side to side, clearly very drunk. Jack was standing next to him, regarding him with a grave expression.