A Killer's Watch

Book Two

Tallulah Grace

Copyright 2014 Tallulah Grace

Smashwords Edition

The names, places and events contained within this book are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including recording, photocopying or any other information storage and retrieval system without prior, written permission of the Author.

Prelude

Tell your mom that we’re studying here. If she calls, my sister will cover us. Twisting in the mirror, to get a better view of her legs, sixteen-year-old Allison Wells looked critically at her reflection. The skirt was not short enough. No way would she make an impression in this thing.

I know what happened last time, Sandy, but she promised that she wouldn’t rat us out tonight. She owes me for last week, anyway, so we’ll be fine. Taking the phone to her closet, Allison stripped away the offending skirt as she spoke. I need to change, so why don’t I meet you there? Wait for me in the parking lot, we’ll walk in together.

Tossing the phone onto the bed, Allison shimmied into another skirt, one that her mother would never allow her to wear outside of the house. Smoothing it over her hips, she smiled.

That’s more like it, Trey will have to notice me now.

Satisfied with the change, she quickly found shoes to match, before checking the mirror once more.

If you’re lucky, Trey Rivers, I might just let you kiss me tonight. With a lilting laugh, and confidence beyond her years, Allison left the privacy of her bedroom in search of a good time with friends.

~~~

Pressing the arrow to replay the video, the man watched the young girl, so happy with herself and her choices, head out into the night. This was one of his favorite moments, the last vestiges of their innocence, preserved for all to see.

Assuming one knew where to look.

Smiling, he played it again, admiring how comfortable she was in her own skin. Girls were much more confident today than when he was a teenager. Perhaps technology played a role. There were certainly more opportunities for socialization, and self-examination on camera, than when he was a boy. What did they call them, selfies? Such a ridiculous name, but, he supposed, it was apropos to the circumstances.

Nearing the end of the video, he froze the image to one of Allison striking a pose in the mirror, obviously enjoying her reflection. With a few more keystrokes, he printed the still photo to add to his collection.

Time to meet you, my sweet. I trust that you won’t be disappointed.

Laughing aloud at the absurdity of the notion, Graham Grant selected keys to a discreet Mercedes, one that would never be traced to him, and left the comforts of his fortress in search of an evening to remember.

Chapter One

Buckle up, ladies, we’ll be landing soon, Ethan Barnes replaced the receiver as he spoke. The pilot said that we’ll be on the ground in thirty.

I think I follow you, so far, but I still don’t get why the money isn’t easier to trace. Chloe Carson obediently snapped the buckle into place. I mean, thirteen years post 9/11, electronic transactions are pretty transparent, right? How did this cat, Anson, manage to operate so far under the radar?

Internet currency, for one thing, Jeri Forbes, Ethan’s partner and fiancée, answered. As far as we can tell, subscribers paid for monthly access via online currency, but the accounts receiving the funds were numerous and fluid. They changed so frequently, that they’re impossible to track. In addition, we’ve recently discovered that Anson may have posted instructions for wire transfers in several underground chat rooms. We can only assume that the transfers bought subscribers a more in-depth view into Anson’s depravity.

And your friend, Dylan, thinks that the two prostitutes murdered, and dumped, in Clevestone are the work of one of Anson’s subscribers, simply because a few details are the same? Monique Pellier, Ethan’s former partner, knew the scope of Anson’s reign of terror in Europe, and in the States.

It’s more than a few details, Ethan told her. By the time we land, you’ll have the reports in your inbox. From what Dylan described to me, I think he’s right. Whoever murdered those women followed Anson’s playbook. It’s too much of a coincidence, otherwise.

But why recreate something that’s already been done? Is the killer paying homage to Anson? Or does he simply lack imagination? Monique looked to Jeri for the answer.

He could very well be a copycat, which would be bad enough, but I think he’s testing the waters. For one thing, the details of the murders, the way the women were killed, are the same as two murders attributed to Anson and his brother in Spain. The most glaring difference is the victimology. Howard and Harold Anson killed two soccer moms, the Kansas killer chose two prostitutes.

Why does that matter? Chloe asked.

It can be very telling. Prostitutes are considered soft targets, or easy victims, Jeri explained. If our killer is new to this, then an easy target is preferable, while he works out the kinks.

Good Lord, another newbie? Chloe’s eyebrows shot up. What’s happening? Are these guys coming out of the woodwork? I never knew there were so many serial killers to worry about.

There’s never a shortage, that’s for sure, Jeri smiled in sympathy with Chloe’s realization. If more of Anson’s watchers decide to join the fray, we’ll have our hands full.

How many watchers did he have? Monique asked.

Hundreds, all over the world, as far as we know, Ethan told her. It’s virtually impossible to get an accurate number, but based on Anson’s access to funds, he had quite a following.

So they what, watched him commit murder? And now one of them is picking up, where Anson left off?

That’s about the size of it. Only I don’t think that this one will be satisfied with prostitutes for long. Once he gets comfortable, he’ll move on to his true targets. Jeri felt Ethan’s hand close over hers as the plane began its descent.

How are we going to catch him, if we don’t have a clue who he wants to kill? Chloe, the newest member of EJB Global, had much to learn about tracking a killer.

Something tells me he’ll show his hand, soon. Two kills in three days is quite a kick-start. That’s where we begin.

Will we work with the local cops, or on our own? Chloe asked.

For now, we’re on our own. When he escalates, we’ll let them know we’re on the case. Ethan nodded, appreciating Chloe’s curiosity, but noting her frown. Don’t worry, Chloe, we know that you’re not an experienced investigator, but you’ve proven that you can handle yourself in the field. The rest will come, in time.

I just want to pull my weight, Chloe explained.

You will, Jeri assured her. If we didn’t believe that, you wouldn’t be here.

As the wheels touched down, Jeri held tight to Ethan’s hand. They were entering Anson’s world again, she thought with a shudder. She could only imagine the terror that awaited some poor, poor soul.

Chapter Two

Shallow cuts on the torso, arms and legs did not contribute to the cause of death, but they were designed to inflict maximum pain. The medical examiner pushed his glasses on top of his forehead, and rubbed his eyes. Replacing them, he continued reading from the autopsy report.

Cause of death for both women was strangulation. It would have been exsanguination, but he didn’t wait for the blood loss to do the job. The two deepest cuts, for both women, were over the heart. In the first one, he nearly severed the aorta, which would have killed her quicker, and would have been a blessing, if you want my two cents. He was more careful with the second one. He’s learning fast.

And there were no signs of sexual assault? You’re certain? Ethan asked, knowing that this detail was the only discrepancy between these kills, and the Anson brothers.

No sign of fluid, no bruising of any kind to indicate assault. Intercourse is a possibility, but it wasn’t rough. That’s about all I can tell you.

Thank you, Doctor, Ethan extended his hand. I appreciate your meeting with us so late. It’s important to hear the facts, more helpful than reading about them in a report.

No problem. Anything I can do to help you get this guy, I’m happy to do. This is one sick bastard, let me tell you. He tortured those women, pure and simple. I’ve seen lots of different deaths in my life, but these two were the worst. I hope I don’t see another one like them.

We’ll do our best to keep that from happening. If anything comes up, please contact us.

Will do.

Jeri waited until they were away from the M.E.’s office before commenting.

That confirms our theory that he’s just getting started, she spoke softly as they walked along the long, brightly lit hallway. I’m not sure what to make of the absence of rape. From the report I read, it was obvious that Harold took a great deal of pleasure from that aspect of the murders.

Yes, he did, Ethan agreed. Though Howard didn’t. Maybe our killer relates more to him.

He certainly dove into the torture side of things with no problem, Jeri followed Ethan through the doorway, into the cool, night air.

Our boy’s not squeamish, that’s for certain, Ethan agreed. Do you want to drive by the drop zones on the way to the hotel?

Sure. Both bodies were found at night, so we can get a better sense of what’s going on in the area.

He dropped them within a two mile radius of town. He’s not exactly hiding his kills.

It’s commonly felt that most serials want to be found, ultimately. It’s the only way to receive the recognition they crave, Jeri reminded him. It’s odd, though, that such a new killer is already seeking attention.

Could be a newbie mistake, or it could be that he’s arrogant. Probably doesn’t believe anyone will care about the death of two prostitutes.

Based on the priority the locals are giving these cases, I’d say he’s right, Jeri settled into the SUV, searching her tablet for a map of the area.

I’ll check in with Monique, let her know what we’re doing. Ethan started the car, but let it idle. Did you know it would be this cold here? he asked, typing the text.

"Figured, it is Kansas in March, after all. It’s been colder everywhere, this year, Jeri added, enlarging the screen to bring up a field, south of town. The first drop zone is probably deserted this time of night. I can’t see anything around that would give people a reason to be there. Turn left, then right at the stop sign. It should only be a few minutes away."

Gotta love a small town, Ethan grinned, putting the car into gear. The downside is that it will be more difficult for us to stay under the radar.

Staying in Topeka helps, Jeri told him, adjusting the heating vent. It’s only twenty minutes away from Clevestone, and we’ll blend in better there.

I hate to break this to you, Love, but you stand out, wherever you are, Ethan shot her a sideways grin.

Right back at you, Jeri felt the familiar flush spread over her body. Ethan had a way of claiming her as his, no matter the circumstances.

You make a good point, though. Topeka is only minutes away from here, maybe the killer hunts in Topeka, but kills in Clevestone.

Both bodies were moved, so he could just be dumping them in Clevestone. But why?

Sentimental reasons, sending a message, fewer resources in a small town, it’s on his way home, Ethan began listing possibilities.

According to the reports, one of the women grew up in Clevestone, but the other one wasn’t even from Kansas. She grew up in Iowa, then relocated to Topeka. Jeri studied the map. You know, Clevestone is less than an hour from Missouri, and a little more than an hour from both Nebraska and Iowa. Our killer could live in any of the four states. But something makes him dump the bodies in Clevestone.

Ethan knew that Jeri was speaking more to herself, than to him. Verbalizing was part of her process, one that he respected by keeping silent.

We know that both women worked the Topeka area, though in different parts of the city. Both women solicited clients via websites belonging to different escort services, so no connection there. The ten year age difference, one Caucasian, one Hispanic, it’s as if he’s going out of his way to select opposites, in every way, Jeri mused. Then he kills them, using the exact same methods, and dumps them in the same small town.

Ethan glanced down at the map, still lit in Jeri’s lap. He could see that they were near the first dump site.

It’s up ahead. Jeri noticed the direction of his gaze. Between the fence posts. Look for the crime scene tape.

Surely they’ve already removed…nope, there it is, Ethan directed the car to the side of the road, angling the headlights to the area still cordoned off with yellow streamers.

Not much to see, Jeri commented, getting out of the vehicle. No street lamps, no houses, nothing to prevent him from tossing a body from the trunk.

Would you look at those stars? Ethan tilted his head back in appreciation. Another bonus of small town living. You can actually see into the night sky.

It would have looked very much like this, four nights ago. It was another cold, clear night when he dumped her. Jeri stood for a moment beside Ethan, gazing up at the stars.

The moon would have been a little brighter, depending on the time of night, Ethan observed, turning to look at the crescent sliver of white, hanging over the trees.

I doubt that mattered to him. He could have parked, removed the body, placed it off the road, and been on his way in less than five minutes. Jeri pulled her eyes from the sparkling sky to look down at the brown grass, where the body was found. There are a few farms along this road, but no businesses. It leads to Parker, a town smaller than Clevestone, but locals are the only ones who use it, since the interstate moved in.

So he knows the area, Ethan followed Jeri’s footsteps.

Yes, it’s likely. Jeri circled the yellow perimeter, searching for anything out of place.

According to the report, the killer left no clues, whatsoever. No footprints, no tire tracks, no fibers on the body. Ethan knelt down for a better look at the grass.

Anson taught him well. The contempt in Jeri’s voice was unmistakable.

I expected nothing less, Ethan looked at her as he rose. Even though these are his first kills that we know of, this guy learned from the best. He won’t make the same rookie mistakes that other new serials make.

I know, but he’s already made the mistake of letting us know he has emotional ties to Clevestone, Jeri suddenly seemed confident.

Do we know that? It could just be that it’s more practical for him to leave the bodies here. Emotion may have nothing to do with it.

Think about it. Let’s say he makes a date with both women in Topeka. He kills them, somewhere between here and there, then drives to this tiny town to dump the bodies. Granted, it’s only twenty minutes away, but anything could happen during the drive out here. He could get a flat, get rear-ended, get pulled over, anything. The killer takes a huge risk, coming here with a dead woman in his trunk, not once, but twice. Warming to her topic, Jeri began to pace.

You’ve got a point, but he could be killing them nearby, so the drive is less risky.

True, but that just proves the point that he has ties to Clevestone. He either lives here, or he wants the town’s attention.

I’d say he’s got it, Ethan pointed out. The most notorious crime on the books in Clevestone, before these murders, is a break-in at the local high school.

He may have their attention, but I doubt he touched their hearts. People around here may think that these women got what they deserved, Jeri frowned. Folks with small town values can be severely judgmental. If he didn’t get the reaction he hoped for with these women, he may try something different, next time.

What do you mean? Ethan took her arm as they walked to the car.

I mean if he’s looking for shock value, then two dead prostitutes from the city won’t do it, not for long, anyway. If he wants to make a serious impact on Clevestone, then he’ll be more selective next time.

I suppose it also depends on whether or not he thinks he’s had enough practice. If your first theory holds, then the prostitutes were trial runs.

I still think that, but time will tell. Jeri closed her eyes, waiting for Ethan to join her in the car. Heaven help his true victims, she whispered, knowing that the worst was yet to come.

Chapter Three

We need to leave, Allison, or I’ll never make it home before curfew, Sandy spoke loudly so Allison could hear her over the music.

Just a few more minutes, please, Allison begged. Trey said that he was coming tonight, but I still haven’t seen him.

No, I have to go. If I’m not home by eleven, mom will ground me for a month. Then I’ll miss prom. Come on, you can see Trey at school tomorrow.

I don’t look like this at school, Allison swept her hand over her body. I wanted him to see me here, tonight. You go ahead, I’ll stay a while longer.

Are you sure? We should really walk out together, don’t you think? Sandy grabbed her purse, searching for her cell phone.

We’ll be fine, the lot’s very well lit. But we can talk on the phone, until you’re safe in your car, if you’re worried.

Who will you talk to, when you leave? Sandy’s brow wrinkled with concern.

I’ll ask Trey to walk me to my car, so no worries. Go on, you don’t want to be late, Allison gave Sandy a quick hug, before picking up her phone. Call me.

Okay, don’t stay too late. Your mom will flip, just as much as mine will.

My mom won’t know, Ashley’s got me covered. Seriously, go.

Okay, stay on the phone. Sandy dialed Allison as she made her way to the door.

An hour later, Allison felt deflated as she finally headed out of the club. Trey had not shown up, after all, and no one else even bothered to ask her to dance.

Bracing for the cold, she glanced at her phone as the door closed behind her. Nearly eleven-thirty, she knew that she would make it home by midnight. Even if her mom was home, she wouldn’t be too mad, especially since Allison had remembered to bring a change of clothes. There was no reason for her mother to know that she hadn’t been studying with Sandy.

A few smokers milled around the entrance, but no one hung out in the parking lot. It was too cold to be outside. Noise from the club receded as Allison walked the distance to her car.

Soon, the distinct click of heels on pavement was the only sound Allison heard. Parking so far away from the building didn’t seem like a problem, when she’d arrived. But now, walking it all alone, in the middle of the night, the distance felt almost ominous.

Stop that, Allison chided herself, aloud. You’re perfectly safe, just keep walking.

Hearing her own voice made Allison feel better, but only for a moment. As she turned down the aisle where her car waited, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and a prickling sensation shoot along her spine.

Darting her eyes all around, she saw nothing to account for her body’s warning. Still, the sensation persisted, growing stronger as she neared her vehicle.

Get your keys, she told herself, not stopping to dig through her purse. Reaching her hand inside, she felt lipstick, tissues, her wallet, everything but her keys.

Almost frantic now, for reasons she did not understand, Allison stopped to look inside the bag, searching for the one thing that would get her to safety.

Thank God, she breathed a sigh of relief as her hand closed over the silver keychain. Looking up, she registered the man coming toward her, as if out of nowhere, one hand raised, holding something white.

She couldn’t scream, couldn’t run. Terror choked her into immobile silence for the few seconds it took him to reach her.

The last thing she knew was the pungent, sweet odor of chloroform, covering her open mouth.

Chapter Four

Have you spoken with Jackson? Monique asked Jeri over breakfast. Do you know how Jen is doing?

Yes, I called him this morning, Jeri told her, drowning waffles in syrup. Jen is about the same, still in the hospital, of course. He said that she had a good night.

That’s good to hear, Chloe chimed in, bringing her cereal bowl to the table. Did you guys find anything last night?

No, nothing. But we didn’t expect to. Both sites looked the same. Two-lane roads, leading from town to even more rural areas. No homes, businesses, or lights around.

So, chances are good that he wasn’t seen dropping the bodies, Monique sipped coffee and toyed with a bagel.

No one’s come forward yet, Jeri told her, diving into the sweet, buttery mess.

Do you think he lives in Clevestone? Chloe kept her voice low, so nearby diners would not overhear.

Hard to say at this point. His reasons for choosing Clevestone as his dumping ground are up in the air, at the moment. The only thing I’m sure about is that he has some kind of connection to the town.

What’s on the agenda for today? Monique asked, eyeing Jeri’s waffles.

"We pay a visit to the escort services where the