Copperhead

By R.P. Deiss

Serial killers, they walk among us. Killers with no conscience, remorse, and some say, no soul. Most kill at will and with no set pattern to track and capture. Reports say at any given time a dozen such creatures are wandering around the country, taking their victims at will. We all know someone who disappeared, never to be found. Some are adults, some are children — and the evil is out there, waiting. Stalking.

FBI Special Agents Ben Hawk and Connie Sanchez hunt these serial killers. They’re the best in the Bureau and everyone knows it, including the killers. Their unique camaraderie, banter and practical jokes help them to mentally and emotionally handle the severe pressure they experience.

Young women are disappearing from Wisconsin Universities, their bodies grotesquely posed along the banks of the Wolf River. Ben and Connie are called in by the state’s governor to end the killing spree and bring down the killer, by the book. Off the record — by any means necessary, even if outside the law.

The team discovers Connie is now in the killer’s sites. Their urgency increases to kill this murderer before he can kill again. And Connie is determined she won’t be the one to die.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.P. Deiss
• Release date: Feb 18, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452414256

R.P. Deiss

Hi, I'm a 54 year old Wisconsinite. I served in the Navy during the closing days of Vietnam as part of Operation Frequent Wind. I held a top secret clearance as a radioman. I honed my typing skills on the keyboard of a teletype while serving my country. I'm a 3 term commander of our American Legion Post and designer of our Veterans Memorial. I spent 19 years in the Boy Scout program including 8 years as scoutmaster and helped 11 boys reach Eagle Scout. I also did 11 years as committee chairman. I've written and given many speeches on Veteran issues. . I live in Northeast Wisconsin with my wife Darlene, I have two grown step daughters and six grand kids. I found that i have an insatiable love of writing. I did the first draft of Dead Men's Isle in three weeks. I also did a thriller called Copperhead which will be coming out in february and am now doing s sequal to Dead Men's Isle. I have now written a total of 5 books for your enjoyment. I hope that I can bring you into the pages of my books for a journey that will transport you on an adventure of a lifetime!

Book preview

First of all, I’d like to say this book is a work of fiction written for your pure reading enjoyment. In order to set the stage for the story contained within these pages I’d like to take a minute to introduce you to some actual real life serial killers. I have in no way sensationalized their bloody accomplishments nor have I toned them down. By reading these 3 or 4 pages you will be able to go into the minds of some of our most notorious killers.

Serial Killers, they live among us. In the deepest recesses and shadows of our civilization they stay hidden. They wait like spiders by their webs for their next unsuspecting victim to appear. They prey on the old and young, on the weak and unsuspecting. Most often, the victims are women and children because they offer the least resistance but there are exceptions to that rule. They’ll never take the chance of being exposed and caught but from time to time are. When these killers are caught it’s often by mere luck, a very small slip-up on their part.

The Son of Sam was caught because of an unpaid parking ticket. Jeffrey Dahmer was caught because his neighbors couldn’t stand the stench coming from his apartment any longer and complained to the authorities. BTK (Bind Torture Kill) was caught because after 20 years of silence he decided to brag once more about his accomplishments. He wasn’t counting on how far investigative methods had advanced during those years.

They look like you and me. They could be your next-door neighbor or a close friend, or your brother, sister, father, mother, husband or wife. BTK was a deacon of his church and a scout leader. Jeffrey Dahmer boldly walked up to two police officers in Milwaukee and asked for the return of a nearly naked drugged Asian boy the police had just apprehended. They turned the boy back over to him and he was dead an hour later.

No one knows how many serial killers are lurking out there undetected. I once read a report that said as many as a dozen are crisscrossing around the country picking victims at random at any given time. With no M.O. the crimes go unsolved. Some serial killers climb to fame while being chased or caught.

Ted Bundy: Was a psychopathic law student who was convicted of murdering 35 women. Most of them were college students. He would fake a broken arm in a sling to convince young women to carry textbooks for him to his car. Once there he battered them with a baseball bat and carried them off for ghoulish rituals.

The Zodiac Killer: In 1966, a girl was viciously murdered in Riverside, California when she permitted a man to help start her car that he had intentionally disabled when she was in her school library. This began a ghoulish series of murders that panicked people in the San Francisco area. For years the Zodiac taunted police with weird ciphers, phone calls, insulting and cryptic messages. Police investigated over 2,500 suspects, but the case was never solved.

The Green River Murders: 48 women were murdered in the Seattle area resulting in the longest running homicide investigation in U.S. history. Finally, DNA evidence pointed a finger at Gary Leon Ridgway as the killer. His unsuspecting wife tells of their unremarkable relationship.

John Wayne Gacy: AKA the Clown Killer. One of the most notorious serial killers, a respected Chicago area businessman hired young men to work in his company. Then raped and murdered 33 of them burying their bodies under his Chicago home. In prison, he became the focus of researching the psychopathic mind.

Ed Gein: Considered to be a mild-mannered bachelor whose emotional development had been stunted by his domineering mother. He shocked the world when police found his vest of human skin and a cache of body parts, Gein is the model for Silence of the Lambs, Buffalo Bill and Psycho’s, Norman Gates. I personally knew the nephew of his last victim.

Jeffrey Dahmer: He kept heads, skulls and other body parts in his apartment for sexual gratification. He was convicted of 15 murders but believed to be responsible for at least 2 others. Dahmer was murdered in a Wisconsin State prison after serving only a few years of his life sentences.

Albert Fish: This gentle looking benevolent grandfather cleverly lured children to their death, and then devised recipes to eat them. This cannibal model for Hannibal Lector is a study of criminal psychology and a true enigma. His wife thought him to be a wonderful husband and his children believed him to be a model father. What inner torments caused him to drive many spikes into his own pelvis and tell people that he looked forward to his execution?

Henry Lee Lucas: Convicted of 11 murders and confessed to approximately 3,000 others. Although most of his confessions are considered to be outlandish, a task force was set up to investigate his claims. The investigators suggest that the true number of his murder victims may be as high as 213. I listened to a tape of his many confessions.

Robert Willie Pinkton: This Canadian from British Columbia was a former pig farmer and serial killer. He was convicted of the second-degree murders of 6 women. He was also charged in the deaths of an additional 20 women, many of them prostitutes and drug users from Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside. He confessed to 49 murders to an undercover police officer posing as a cellmate. The crown reported that Pinkton told the officer that he wanted to kill one more woman to make it an even 50 and he was caught because he’d gotten sloppy. It is thought that he got rid of most of the bodies by feeding them to the pigs.

Serial killers aren’t limited to men who work alone. Many times, they have women as accomplices. These couples are every bit as deadly and maybe as teams, less detectable.

Michael Bear Carson and Suzan Carson: Nomadic hippie killers that promoted an alternative lifestyle. They were convicted of killing 12 people.

Ray and Faye Copeland: They were the oldest couple ever sentenced to death in the United States at ages 75 and 69. The two were convicted of killing 5 men. Their modus operandi was to hire unskilled drifters as farm hands and later kill them.

Raymond Fernandez and Martha Beck: AKA the Lonely Heart Killers. They killed at least 3 women and one child and were suspected in the deaths of at least 20 others.

Gerald and Charlene Gallego: AKA Gallego Sex Slave Killers. The two kidnapped, raped and killed their victims in the late 1970s, most were teenagers.

Sometimes women work alone. They are as mean and sadistic as their single male counterparts. Because of their lesser strength their preferred method of murder seems to be poisoning. For children, drowning and suffocation sadly seems to be the order of the day.

Nannie Doss: AKA the Giggling Granny and the Jolly Black Widow she was a serial poisoner who killed 11 family members.

Tillie Klimek: A Chicago woman who poisoned 5 husbands and was sentenced to life in prison.

Jane Toppan: Nurse and lust murderer who poisoned 31 patients and relatives.

Marybeth Tinning: New York woman who smothered 9 of her children to death.

This is just a small sample of the killers who have been caught. They come from all walks of life and from every corner of the globe. There are those who believe serial killers are born without souls, evil incarnate. They are the spawn of Satan, unfeeling, uncaring and lusting for the spilled blood of their next victim.

Those mentioned above are actual killers whose grisly deeds are well documented. For every killer that is caught there is another to take their place. They are traveling around the countryside now looking for their next victim. We have all read of missing people who are never located. In every state, you hear the names in news reports and read about them in the pages of our newspapers. Are these the victims of the serial killers who roam the country killing at will?

It’s these types of animals that my main characters, FBI Special Agents Ben Hawk and Connie Sanchez are trained to apprehend. Their job is to take them down anyway they can, inside or outside of the law. Their special status ensures they will receive the cooperation of any field office in the nation. Their camaraderie and antics are a relief valve for the pressures they are under to solve these cases. They are without equal, the very best at what they do.

I hope you enjoy the read,

R. P. Deiss

Chapter One

Jenny Andrews awoke with a start. Her entire body was one massive ache. She found herself in total darkness, sitting on the concrete floor. She couldn’t feel her hands anymore. Her arms were like dead weights, they’d been chained over her head for countless hours. With nothing to eat or drink for days she couldn’t swallow. Her crotch burned intensely from having peed herself. She was suffering from a massive headache and she was shivering uncontrollably in the darkness, the concrete sucking the heat from her body.

It seemed like weeks ago she was celebrating her test results with her college roommates at the local campus bar. Then she remembered nothing until waking up here. In the near distance, she heard a loud noise and then a rattle at her prison door. Suddenly she was blinded by light. She is sure she hasn’t seen any in days.

Well, well, Jenny my dear, your time is near. You’ve been my newest guest for nearly three days now. My, my, what have you done to yourself? It simply reeks down here. A bright young student of nursing should take better care of herself. As high as all of you coeds keep your noses in the air you should be able to smell yourself. The man squatted down in front of her, a sneer plastered on his face.

Jenny raised her head. Please, I didn’t do anything to deserve this, let me go, she croaked thru cracked lips.

Very soon my dear, I shall release your soul if not your body. Look Jenny, I’ve brought you a gift. The evil man opened his hand to show Jenny two pennies. He watched for her reaction through piercing dark eyes.

Oh my God no, you’re him! Jenny croaked loudly, her eyes stretched in terror, her worst fears realized. The serial killer preying on Wisconsin universities has been in all the newspapers and news broadcasts for months.

It’s time we took a little trip together, he said, reaching out his hand toward her neck. Jenny felt a bone penetrating shock and saw a white light behind her eyes and then she entered darkness.

Jenny slowly opened her eyes again and felt the vibration thru her body. She realized that she was lying in the bottom of a boat. Her hands were tightly bound behind her. Tape was stretched over her mouth and her legs were taped together. Jenny looked up over her feet and could see her tormenter silhouetted in the darkness steering the boat. Her memory went back to her prison cell when she learned her captor was a serial killer. Days ago she had cried herself out. There was nothing left in her. She knew the end was near. Jenny thought of her poor mother and father and her two brothers. She felt the boat slow and then bumped into the river bank. The murdering bastard that had captured her scurried past her and jumped out of the boat and pulled the boat up onto the shore.

Soon she heard him pounding on something metallic. Lying in the boat’s bottom she couldn’t see what he was doing. She struggled twisting back and forth trying to break herself free. She could feel her blood making her wrists slippery, but the slipperiness wasn’t helping her escape. She could hear the leaves crunching as her captor returned to the boat. He unceremoniously grabbed her by the seat of her pants and heaved her from the boat. He carried her twenty feet up the bank of the river and dumped her on the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Jenny lay on her back staring up at the stars breathing heavily thru her nose trying to suck in more air from her struggles to get free. She heard him returning and saw him dump something large on the ground next to her.

Grabbing her with his gloved hands he sat her up against a tree. Jenny, it’s said we are made in God’s image. Christ died for us on the cross wearing a wreath made of thorns. Look what I made for you Jenny dear, your very own wreath. With that he jammed it onto her head. Jenny silently screamed in pain thru her taped mouth as the thorns dug into her scalp with a burning, searing pain.

It’s true Jenny, one size does fits all! Her tormentor started laughing insanely, spinning around in circles, his head tipped back. His body started to gyrate back and forth as he sang her a little tune. Jenny dear your trouble is clear, you are about to die. Fear not dear, your God is near but he cannot save your hide.

Jenny saw something flash in the moonlight through her tears and felt an intense burning pain in her throat. Jenny’s vision started to dim. All Jenny ever wanted to do in life was help others. That’s why she went into nursing. Jenny would miss graduation, marriage, having kids and growing old with someone she loved.

The killer kept humming his little tune as he untied her and nailed her to the cross. Kneeling over her he placed his two pennies over her eyes. He put a 2000 penny over the left eye and a 2019 penny over the right one. I picked a red candle to melt over the pennies Jenny dear. It will match the redness of your lips so well, he whispered. Lighting the candle, he shielded the glow of the light with his body as he melted the wax over the pennies, sealing them to her eyes. He then stood the cross up and slid it into the pipe he had pounded into the ground.

Standing back, he looked at his handy work. Ah Jenny dear, you are a true vision of loveliness. Grinning, he went skipping down the bank to his boat and shoved off. Looking back, he could just make out his artwork framed in the night sky.

Chapter Two

I sat back in the plush leather seat of the government owned Learjet, gazing out of the window. I watched as the freshly plowed farm fields passed by underneath us as we rushed westward towards our destination.

My name is Ben Hawk. I’m an FBI special agent. Sitting across from me is the only other passenger on the corporate jet, my partner Connie Sanchez. She was just sitting aimlessly paging through a magazine, passing the time until we landed in Milwaukee. My thoughts were on the events that had put us on this flight.

Late this morning we were both sitting in our shared office at the J. Edgar Hoover Building writing our final reports on our last case. That case involved serial killers in Chicago. They were using the Chicago stockyards as a dumping ground for their victims. Twenty-seven young men and boys were brutally killed. We had both gotten bloody before it was all over. But we had brought closure to a case that had plagued Chicago for over two years.

The case had made the two of us superstars in the eyes of the bureau and the media. It had vaulted our careers far and beyond what we had ever imagined possible. I’ve been working for the FBI for seven years and Connie for six. We now pursue only serial killers, human predators. A very small group of people that I consider to have somehow been born without souls, their bodies empty hulls. We are tasked with bringing them to justice anyway we could by any and every means possible inside or outside the law.

My thoughts return to our office late this morning. I grabbed the ringing telephone and answered it. Hello, Special Agent Hawk speaking.

Special Agent Hawk, this is the director’s office. The director would like to see you and Special Agent Sanchez at once.

Tell the director we’re on our way up, we’ll be there in a couple of minutes.

Connie, the director wants to see us, I said while grabbing my jacket. The two of us headed out of the door and went to the bank of elevators for the trip up to see our boss.

What’s this all about? Connie questioned me.

I don’t know, all his secretary said was to come up right away, I answered.

The elevator opened up in front of his secretary’s office door. We entered the outer office of the Director of the FBI. Go right in, he’s waiting for you, the secretary said, buzzing open the door for us.

Director Burns stood up as we entered his office and reached across his desk to shake our hands. Special Agents Hawk and Sanchez, it’s good to see you both back on your feet and working again. How are you feeling? Are you fully recovered?

Connie gave the director a small smile. Yes sir, we feel fine. It’s time we got back to work and earned our keep.

Like I had said earlier we both had gotten bloody solving the Chicago case and it had taken a few months to recover from our injuries and return back to work. We have only been back to work for a few days now. First came the final debriefing on the case and then we needed to file final reports in order to close the case out.

Good, good, the reason I asked you up to my office is we have a new serial killer working in Wisconsin. I just got off the phone with their Governor. He asked specifically for the two of you to help out on the case. He knows about your success in Chicago and is hoping for a quick closure to this one.

Yes sir, I said. What can you tell us about the case?

So far four University of Wisconsin coeds have been found brutally murdered and sadistically posed. Parents are starting to pull their children from college out of fear. The Milwaukee office will meet with you. They will have a full file on the case to hand over to you.

I glanced over at Connie. When do you want us to leave sir?

Right away, I have one of our private jets waiting for you at the airport. Go home and pack and leave this afternoon. I have the utmost confidence in the two of you. Contact the Milwaukee office for any resources you might need. I want you to call my number directly with weekly reports. I don’t have to tell you how important this case is, the director said while getting to his feet. He once again reached across his desk and shook our hands signaling an end to our meeting.

Connie and I live in the same apartment complex. I drove us home and dropped her off at her building so she could pack and then drove home to do the same. An hour later I was back at Connie’s to pick her up.

Connie buzzed me into her building. Are you all set? I asked. Connie and I both kept bags packed ready to go. We also have a checklist to make sure we don’t forget anything. We sometimes have to repack depending on the area we are traveling to and the weather conditions we can expect.

Just let me grab a couple of extra magazines for my SIG and we can head out, Connie replied heading back to her bedroom.

Soon we were heading for Reagan International Airport and the private plane gate.

I turned back away from the jet’s window and picked-up my copy of the Washington Post again and reread the article about the murders in Wisconsin.

I looked up at Connie and said. It says here that the first body was found last October. It’s only late April now so he’s killed four times in six months.

I know, Connie replied. I read the article this morning before heading to the office. The article is pretty skimpy. I’m sure the police are being careful about what they release to the press.

Are you really ready for this Connie? Are you strong enough?

Physically I’m a little bit stiff but other than that I feel fine. Mentally I don’t think I’ll ever be completely ready again, Connie admitted.

Yeah, my shoulder is still a bit sore but I’m ready to go too. I can understand the mental part. I think I’ll have the yips for a long time. But I’ve had enough of sitting around doing nothing, I admitted.

I glanced at my watch and saw it was almost 6 PM. We should be arriving in Milwaukee soon. I felt the plane bank to the left and a seat belt sign came on. We could feel the landing gear dropping from the underside of the fuselage as we got ready to land.

The jet touched down and taxied to the tarmac where I could see a Crown Vic waiting for us off to the side with a man standing next to it.

Chapter Three

We climbed down the stairs with our bags in hand to meet the approaching agent. You must be Special Agents Hawk and Sanchez. I’m the Milwaukee SAC, Jeff Mason. It’s good to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.

SAC stands for Special Agent in Charge. Jeff was telling us he was the main man here in Milwaukee. With our newly found status we were now elevated above Jeff and he knew it. Jeff seemed like a pleasant, likable guy and one who would do anything he could to help us capture the killer.

I met Jeff halfway and held out my hand. It’s good to meet you Jeff, you can call me Ben and this is Connie.

Jeff nodded and smiled as he shook our hands. We’ve had a new development in your case since you left Washington. They’ve found another body and are at the crime scene now. I have a helicopter ready to take you there. Let’s head over to the heliport and get moving. We can go over the files while we’re in the air, Jeff offered.

Sounds good Jeff, I said while tossing our luggage into the trunk of his car.

The Bell Ranger sat waiting for us. Jeff parked to the side and we loaded our baggage on board, climbed in and put on headsets. The pilot started throwing switches and soon the blades were spinning, picking-up speed.

Jeff handed each of us a file on our new case and said into his microphone. The murder today makes five. The students attended three different universities in the UW system. Two of the victims are from Oshkosh, one is from Green Bay and one is from Stevens Point. The body found today hasn’t been positively identified so her school is still unknown. So far, their ages have been 18 to 21, what you’d expect for college age students. Two have been white, one black and one Asian.

I sat paging through the file. The director told us the bodies have been posed, I said into my microphone.

Jeff looked back at us nodding. Pennies have been placed over their eyes and waxed on like in the old days. The killer has been placing the penny for the year they are born over one eye and the year they died over the other. The last two bodies have been found nailed to crosses. The first two were just tied to trees in a sitting position. It seems like he’s trying to be more artistic as he goes along. All of the bodies have been found along the banks of the Wolf River.

Has there been a task force formed? Connie asked.

The dumping ground is in the corners of three counties. The task force is formed by investigators from those three counties. Two other counties have investigators assigned to the investigation because their counties are where the kids went to school, Jeff answered.

What can you tell us about the coroner’s report? I asked.

All of them have had their throats slit. Each of them has burn marks on their necks indicating the killer is using a Taser to incapacitate the victims, rendering them helpless.

The first body was discovered last October I read, Connie said.

Jeff nodded, that’s right the first body was found in October the next was January then early March the fourth was the first of April and then today.

I looked over at Connie. The killer is escalating his kill rate and the way he displays the bodies. Has he tried to contact anyone and boast about his accomplishments?

I have no record of him doing that, Jeff replied.

We continued to scan the murder file that Jeff had supplied. All of the students went to University of Wisconsin campuses; there are no private schools in the area?

Yeah there are several good schools not in the University of Wisconsin system, St. Norbert’s, Ripon College and Fox Valley Technical College to name a few.

Connie looked up from her file. There has to be a reason he only targets kids going to state schools. Maybe he’s angry with the state for some reason. Maybe he applied to go to one of them and got turned down. Connie said thinking out loud.

I agreed with her, You’re right there must be a trigger as to why only certain universities are being targeted.

We turned off the cabin light and could see in the distance the flashing blue and red lights at the crime scene. The lights were reflecting off of the trees along the banks of the river.

The helicopter pilot contacted the police on the ground and told them who we were and that we wanted to land. I could see flares being lit and placed on the ground to show us the landing area.

As we approached I could see the sea of activity along the river bank. My thoughts were of the poor girl we would find below us and of the families that were suffering, praying for an end to the evil that Connie and I would be giving chase to. Subconsciously I felt for my SIG 40 caliber, it was about to start all over again. Once again, we would be chasing a cold blooded killer.

Chapter Four

The helicopter landed in the road by the river and we climbed out as the spinning blades slowed. I shook Jeff’s hand after grabbing our bags. Thanks for the information and the ride Jeff, I said.

I wish both of you good luck in putting an end to these murders. If you need anything at all just give me a call and I’ll do all I can to help you out, Jeff said, handing each of us one of his cards with his phone numbers. Jeff climbed back aboard the helicopter and we turned towards the crime scene. A police officer was headed in our direction. We ducked down and ran over to him.

I’m the Winnebago County Sheriff, name is Bill Quinn, the sheriff offered solemnly, having just come up from the murder scene.

Sheriff, I said, holding out my hand. I’m Special Agent Ben Hawk and this is Special Agent Connie Sanchez.

Call me Bill. I want to thank the two of you for getting here so fast. The governor called this morning and told me he asked for your help. I got to tell you I’m glad to have it. We’ve never had to deal with anything like this before. I can’t believe anyone would do what this sick bastard is doing.

It’s my belief that these serial killers are born without a soul, Bill. They are evil incarnate.

The sheriff nodded his head. After witnessing these killings, I would have to agree with you Agent Hawk.

Please call me Ben, I said.

Bill, you can call me Connie, Connie offered.

Well, I got to tell you two, I don’t believe in all that jurisdictional crap. People are dying! We are going to put our egos on hold here. I want the two of you to take control of the task force and investigation. You have the knowledge and experience that we don’t have. There are currently 10 investigators involved in the case. They will be under your command. If you have any problems with their egos you let me know and I’ll give them an attitude adjustment they won’t soon forget.

Thanks Bill, we appreciate your open mind. Let’s start by having everyone get away from the crime scene. I want to get some lights in here to light up the area so we don’t trample on any evidence.

The sheriff turned towards the river and gave a loud whistle. Everyone come on up by the roadway.

Bill, contact an area contractor and get us some flood lights that run off portable generators like they use on highway construction, Connie asked.

Bill pulled out his cell phone and called his office and instructed the dispatcher to get lighting out to them. The detectives were gathering around us while he was on the phone.

Bill closed his phone and turned to the law enforcement officers around him. These are Special Agents Ben Hawk and Connie Sanchez of the FBI, you’ve all heard about them and know their reputation. The governor has asked for their help in our case. I in turn have asked them to take control of the investigation. You will help them anyway that you can. I don’t want any egos popping up, damn it, folks are dying and it’s got to stop. We will work as a team. The sheriff turned to us, they’re all yours.

We have lighting coming into the area. Let’s keep out until it arrives so we don’t trample on any evidence. We probably already lost some, let’s not lose all of it, I explained.

Where have you set up your task force Bill? Connie asked.

We have a large conference room in Oshkosh, at my sheriff’s station that we’re using for now.

How close is it to where we are now? Connie asked.

I’d say twenty-five miles or so. Where we are standing are the corners of three counties, Winnebago, Waupaca and Outagamie. If you go a mile or two in any direction you’ll find yourselves in a different county.

Do you have a hotline set up for tips yet? I asked.

Right after the second body was found we knew we had a problem and set it up. At first we got a lot of calls but in time the number of calls have dried-up.

Has the killer contacted anyone yet to gloat over his murders sheriff? Connie asked.

The sheriff shook his head, No one has informed us about any letters or phone calls from the killer.

First thing tomorrow I want to meet with the media, we’re going to have a press conference and see if we can’t get the killer to come out of hiding and contact us. If we have to, we’ll goad him into contacting us.

You could hear the relief in the sheriff’s voice. Those are things we never thought of. God, maybe we can finally put an end to this nightmare.

Sheriff, one of the deputies called out. The lights are here.

I turned to see two pick-up trucks arriving pulling two portable light towers behind them. I walked over to the construction workers. I want you to set your lights up there and there, I said pointing. That way if we have light from two different angles we’ll be able to see the area better and eliminate shadows. Aim them toward the river bank.

The men nodded their understanding and moved their trucks to the areas indicated and got to work setting up the lights and firing-up the generators. Soon the area was bathed in a bright halogen light.

I want only crime scene investigators in the area around the body for now. The coroner can stand-by for when they are done, I said. Connie and I followed them down to the river bank.

The girl was mounted on a cross facing the river, held on by the spikes that were driven through her hands and feet. Her head was hanging down with blood running down her front. Pennies were affixed to her eyes as was described in the report we had read on the helicopter ride north. A wreath of thorns was placed on her head. None of the previous victims were found with the wreaths. There was blood coming down from her forehead, an indication that the wreath was placed on her head before she was dead.

Connie the wreath is a new twist. The killer is still evolving with each murder.

This poor girl, Connie said sadly. Can you tell if she was alive when she was nailed onto the cross?

I looked at her hands and feet and didn’t see very much blood. It’s hard to say, but I think her throat was cut first and then she was nailed onto the cross. She might have been barely alive when he did that. But I think by then she would have been beyond caring, I finished.

One of the investigators, Jack Tanner, called us over to the river bank. Look right there, he said pointing. Do you see that groove in the wet bank? I think that he brought her here by boat and beached the boat right here while he killed her.

Connie and I squatted down to look and we could clearly see where the hull of a boat had slid up onto the river bank.

I looked at the investigator and agreed with him. Has there been evidence of a boat at every scene?

No, only the last three, he answered

The last three were the first ones to have a cross, correct? Connie asked.

Right, he must be using a boat now in order to haul the heavy cross, the crime scene investigator answered.

How is he able to stand up the cross with the victim’s weight on it? I asked him.

Come on over and I’ll show you, Jack offered.

We followed him over to the dead girl and he squatted down. "If you look closely you’ll