Gone After the Wind

Chapter 25: Different

This time, the crime scene was located at a hill formed at the bottom of Green Spike—the oldest and highest mountain in Albreska. Nestled at the back border of Verillan town, Green Spike owned a tight reputation for being the most challenging mountain anyone has ever climbed and for producing the cleanest air that supports all the citizens and animals living nearby. It was inarguably the haven for hikers and tourists. Not a day goes by that it wouldn't cramped and filled with eager-stricken individuals.

And at this hour, even if the sun had just woken up, and the morning mist hadn't yet been blown away, some guests are probably wandering around its massive land.

Cara felt a sinking pit in her stomach as she thought of that.

"How much farther?" Agent Rose asked. Her strained voice rattled Cara's focus as she drove on the highway, her feet unconsciously adding more pressure on the accelerator. Their SUV overtook some cars casually occupying the next lane and it earned a series of blasting car horns.

"Just another intersection and we'll be there. Probably in five minutes," Cara answered with a shaky breath.

"I didn't see this coming," Agent Rose said, exceedingly calm. "It's too soon. Has it only been... what? Almost a week. And we haven't stepped out of the initial investigation on Sandy. How could he have done it again that fast?"

Cara gritted her teeth, furious at the lack of answers she could say. It was the same question that continued to nick her brain. Over and over again ever since they were dispatched from the station. And at every attempt, her injured head wielded nothing. Only a bunch of unacceptable theories and absurd speculation.

It was disheartening that her newly established hope vanished effortlessly before she could even make it whole and indestructible. Just as they claimed some promising leads, another astounding mystery had yet to baffle them. Did they overlook something? How could they not avoid this?

A soft and consoling tap on her shoulder stopped her thoughts from escalating. She glanced at Agent Rose and she was already peering at her, half-smiling. "Loosen up your grip, Detective. It wasn't your or anyone's fault that another victim had fallen into his hands. It was inevitable. This is meant to happen the first time he started the killings. Until we catch him, we wouldn't know what's going to happen next. It happens. In every case. So you don't have to deem yourself accountable at every setback we stumble upon."

That was meant to be comforting but it failed to influence Cara positively. The dread in her stomach continued to persist, unaffected and still venomous as ever.

She was weak to prevent another murder. Inefficient to save another life.

She had failed. For the second time. Herself. Her own expectations. The people depend on her. And... the previous victims.

"Let's cling our hope on the positive side. Maybe he made a mistake this time. Being overconfident can open up a lot of risks. Let's cross our fingers on that."

Cara didn't reply as the void lurking around her chest expanded when the perfectly cone-shaped head of Green Spike Mountain started looming at them. The five minutes that she calculated narrowed into three as she was determined to escape the painful ride.

The front entrance was already surrounded by police cars, forensic vans, and ambulances. As they get near, she was shocked to see the pile of news vans and reporters wandering around outside the barricades, persistent to go in and fish out information as to what occurred inside. She swallowed hard, her palms started to produce sweat when agitation conquered her senses. As they approach the barricades, an officer from the side signaled them to halt. Cara pulled down her window and showed her badge. After she recited what unit she was in, the officer agreed for them to pass.

They parked alongside the forensics van. Cara got out first and as she took in the surroundings, she soon started to feel the brewing sense of doom. It got worse when, from the forming crowd consisting of mountain hikers at the entrance, Eric sneaked out and lurched in their direction. He sported a dismayed look as he get neared. Cara contemplated if that was because she broke their agreement or if the scene was that bad to get an emotion from him.

"Agent Rose," he greeted, dipping his head. The agent smiled in return. He turned to Cara, going silent for seconds as he ponder on the million things he could say. He looked annoyed for a minute. But then, the growing uneasiness brought by the case seeped through him, and he immediately covered his emotions up. "Faucalt's waiting. I'll lead you up there. It's not too far. Let's go."

Cara and Agent Rose exchanged glances before they trailed behind Eric whom skitted under a post and into a narrow path existing between tall bushes.

True enough, the hill could be reached by walking. In fact, they only need to pass a creek and complete a short trek so they could get to its lower side. And Cara used the time they spent walking on the trek to embrace the whole location, wondering why, for the third time, the culprit used nature again to house and showcase his sickening crimes.

Why? Why does he always choose places that attract public attention? Was it to boast about his crimes? Or was there a more deep reason?

As they walked past the creek, Cara started to look around, hoping she could get something worthy of noting that would contribute to her speculation that forest and hills are significant to the perpetrator. While she did, Eric started briefing them on what was waiting for them at their destination.

"She was placed on the top of it. Just under a tree. He hung her. Contrary to what he did to the previous victims, he left the ropes intact to her body, completing the look he wished for them to convey. It was worse and horrifying." Eric shook the disturbance away. "You'll see for yourselves."

"Was it you who responded to the scene?" Agent Rose asked, hands in her pocket, kicking the pebbles blocking her way.

"I was," Eric answered. "We were called in first by the ranger who was accompanying the group of hikers that discovered the scene. It seems everyone in this town already knew it was going to fall on our lap."

"And the next hours, not only this town. Approximately, every town in Albreska would catch wind of it," Agent Rose said, there was an edge on her voice as she pertained to the swarm of media gathering outside like a pack of hungry vultures.

Silence reigned as they proceeded on the trek. They crossed another barricade and there the hill was, molded almost flawlessly on its spot and standing akin to a much smaller hill. Its steep was covered in grass and dotted with trees.

Swallowing hard, Cara glided her gaze to the top where the large oak tree was indeed gracing it. Forming a circle around it was the yellow tape and inside was Faucalt, giving inaudible orders and throwing himself around. There were almost ten police officers combing around the hill, two were interviewing three men (who were the hikers obviously) at the side while the others continued to wander around, guarding the barricade and ensuring no one without authority would have the chance to pass through it.

They climbed up to the steep, and the subject all the attention zoomed closer and closer as they advanced. The yellow tape was pulled up, and all three of them stepped forward. Cara's heart leaped, and her eyes were glued instantly to the body of a lifeless woman, hung like a useless object that had no further function.

It was facing directly to the east. Only its side was recognizable. It was hard to tear her eyes off it as this was the first time she had seen a fresh crime scene again. After all those weeks. Even at distance, she could spot the differences it has against the victims before.

Sensing their arrival, Faucalt abandoned his conversation with the task force and welcomed them.

"Good morning, ladies," he greeted. "Eric." He nodded his head towards Eric. "Glad you made it quite early. I was—"

His following words faded into the background as Cara slipped away from the group to take a good closer to the body, ignoring Faucalt's grunt of protest and stepping over the forensic snapping pictures.

"Mind your steps, Black," Faucalt reminded.

Like the previous murders, the body was under the tree, ropes looped around her body and tied on the branches up ahead. Almost everything was present there. The crimson dress, blonde wig, and the stitches, the very same stitches that correspond to the joints once again. No shoes were at her feet, leaving her glued toes present in view. Her eyes were removed and replaced again by artificial ones. Her lips were stretched, painted with real lipstick this time. Its corners were deeply lifted. Seeing the smile, Cara shuddered.

"Any good news at the diner?" Faucalt asked, his voice was clearer and a bit louder as though informing Cara it was directed for her.

Cara ignored him, letting Agent Rose answer what they had founded at their last venture.

Agent Rose sighed. "Suprisingly, we were able to both hit a lead and a dead-end there. Though Santine tragically passed away without giving us the full description of the man that was stalking Sandy before she went disappeared, we uncovered the vehicle he was using. It was a green truck. And a lot older than the market use nowadays."

"And Santine?"

"Oh, he's—was innocent. He was staying in the municipal hall the night Sandy was allegedly taken."

Cara squatted in front of the body, maintaining a distance that would rather piss Faucalt off. Narrowing her slits, she noticed the glossy substance wiped all around her body. Could be vaseline. Or some type of lotion that could magically polish the skin like that. The crimson dress was immaculate, with no fuzzy fabric sticking out, and was ironed well.

"Can I have one?" Cara asked one forensic guy withdrawing a tweezer and plastic bag, pointing at the gloves. Without saying anything, the guy obliged.

As she put them on, her eyes dropped to the spot where the guy was standing, noticing the messy trails that belonged to her and to anyone that stood there before. Going three meters away was a weird clump of indentations. It was deep, much more defined than what any of them had created.

For the ground and grass to be flattened and smoothened like that, it had to take someone to stand there for more than fifteen minutes.

"What do you make of those?" Cara asked, pointing at it.

Not turning his head to look at her, the forensic guy pulled something out of his blue suit. "Shuffled bootprints. It's easy to tell. Doesn't look like it because the prints were smudged and trampled by the pace and the times it had been stepped on."

"How fresh do you think it is?"

"Not as you might suspect. The morning mist on the grass has already dried up so it had been disturbed probably about three or four hours ago."

Three to four hours ago.

Exactly the argued time the culprit set this up. But what was he doing there? Watching the sunrise? That's too cliche and dreamy for someone like him. There must be something that captured his interest for him to stay in one place doing nothing.

Did he really do nothing, though?

Going up to her feet, she traced the direction where the prints had faced several times and it was heading towards the body. Most specifically on its side. Now, what could have held his attention here—

Cara's head tilted when she peered through the body's shoulder, three sets of single ropes were attached at the back of the body, dangling as the wind continued to pass through the tree. At first glance, it looked miscellaneous and the extension of all the ropes used. But as Cara pursued where they were originally tied, the hair on her back rose and a chilling sensation rode up her spine.

No... it can't be...

Gulping, she clutched them and yanked them downward. And like what she suspected, the body aroused into action, causing all of them to jump and shrieked in horror. The arms flicked upward, and the lowered head suddenly jerked up as though somebody had called her. Even the feet harmonized with the movement, rising outwardly as the knees cracked and bent.

Cara's heart boomed and her eyes widened. Like a true marionette...

"What did you do this time, Black?!" Faucalt shouted, accusing.

Her mouth ran dry, the words disappearing away as she realized what she had witnessed.

"What the hell was that?" Faucalt demanded as they all scurried at her side, gawking at her. Terror etched on their faces.

"He's done it," she muttered. All of them tensed. "It's complete. He wasn't an amateur anymore."

An eerie silence washed through them, the wind whispering as it brushed the grass and the tree. The body swayed slightly.

"You're blabbering riddles, Black," Faucalt said. "Perhaps enlighten us so we wouldn't think you're losing your mind here."

Cara shut her eyes in frustration before letting go of the rope and the body returned back to its original pose. They flinched when its arms slumped downward. Eric cursed softly and Faucalt grunted in disgust.

"Look what he did," Cara pointed out. "Look at her. Under all these props, she's barely recognizable, isn't she? All we can see is nothing but a clear depiction of the thing he's obsessed with. Marionettes..."

"And what can we glean from that?" Faucalt asked.

"His control over the crimes, for example," Agent Rose answered, folding her arms. "If he had been successful at transporting his inspiration, then that means he's already on the peak of his path. Mastering it boosted his confidence. He knew what he was doing now. He's going to move fast and it wouldn't be long before he would do it again."

Cara nodded in silence, gritting her teeth.

"Well, we won't let him have his way," Faucalt said. He planted a hand on his hip. "What are your thoughts on this, Agent Rose?"

Agent Rose stroked her chin, deep in thought. "I could say for certain that he had spent the night here." She picked a thin branch and used it to point to the blackened area at the side of the tree. "Burned marks. Charcoal. We must ask the rangers covering up this hill, and inquire if they saw a van or anyone suspiciously heading towards here last night. Do we have CCTV cameras to check?"

"There's one at the entrance but that's it. All areas aren't camera protected. They're quite dependent on the ranger's responsibility to take patrol at night. But unfortunately, none of them took the night shift last night," Eric answered.

"Waste of time, then," Agent Rose said. "So he used an illicit way to get in. We still need a copy of that footage at the entrance, though. We can't miss out on anything."

Eric nodded."I'll get someone to do it," he said, and abandoned their little group.

"How about you, Detective?" Agent Rose turned to Cara. "What insights do you get? Why do you think he chose this place? Why... a forest park again?"

Cara was distracted for a second. With all the uncountable thoughts surging around deep in her brain, it was hard to pick up one that would suit the conversation better. "He had chosen this place for a reason. For public attention? I think there's more to that. I can guess that he personally love these kinds of places. See those?" She pointed to the bootprints she discovered. "He stood there for a bit longer, to watch the sunrise or study his work. Considering that was two steps away from the ropes I pulled, it could be both. We might get some DNA from those, by the way, as he might have checked its function, as well."

"We'll have that examined," Faucalt said half-heartedly.

Cara still didn't pay him attention. She was certain that if Agent Rose wasn't there, his nostrils would definitely blaring at her now.

Taking deep breaths, Cara pulled herself together. "He placed her here before the sun could rise. He worked a lot just to reach this hill. It took him some effort to bring the body here. Despite the hard work, he loved what he did. He didn't mind the risk if someone could stop him. He would still do it, otherwise. It only suggests that he's performing some sort of a ritual or favor to humanity. He wants everyone to see his work. Conscious or subconsciously. He wants it noticed."

"Mm-hmm, I concur with that," Agent Rose said. She started to move around the body. "No blood around. Everything was cleaned. He brought the body here already decorated."

Cara nodded. Her eyes went up to the back again, now noticing the knots applied all to each rope. Eyes narrowing into slits, she nudged it, feeling the budge on her palm.

"What is it?" Agent Rose asked, sensing her silence.

"Nothing. It's just that... I've never seen such a knot before," Cara answered, stepping back so she could show it to them. "Have you?"

"That's timber hitch. No doubt on that," Faucalt said, hunching over at the body. "Usually applied when securing wooden logs and when dragging them from one place to another."

"So our perp might be a logger," Agent Rose concluded. "And a heavy man. Loggers could only survive in their job if they retain such strength. That's why he could easily overpower the victims."

"Who was the victim, anyway?" Cara asked.

"Florence Sykes, an instructor from a famous university, married and with no children. She disappeared three nights ago. She was last seen at the supermarket miles away from her workplace. Her husband reported her as missing when she didn't make it at home the night she was supposed to teach a homeschooler guy. So we could assume that she was abducted between the time she left the supermarket and on her way home," Faucalt said.

"How did we identify her?"

"She had some identifications when we searched her."

Cara stepped forward again to have a better view of a small bump on the right forehead of the victim. She pushed aside the wig and saw some marks and deep cuts there. It wasn't stitched or even cleaned. One stood out and it looks like it had been smashed by a hard object. The broken skull could be seen.

Cara's heart raced. An idea popped inside her mind.

"Was she driving a car when she left the supermarket?" she asked.

"Yes, according to her husband, she was driving a white car when she left home the day she went missing."

"Search the highway, see if some white car had been involved in an accident and the owner is missing," she said.

"Why do you say so, Black?" Faucalt asked.

"Just a hunch, Sir," Cara said, finally acknowledging his presence. "Our perp can be creative, you know. Every time he wants. Her abduction might have been disguised as an accident. Can't be sure that it had been a plain one."

Faucalt sighed irritably. Cara could feel his anger slowly taking over. He shot her a dagger look. "We need something that could get us results, Black. Not a hunch or whatsoever that you like to lead us on. You've been in this case for so long. Shouldn't you have the answers now?"

"I'm giving all my best, Sir," Cara answered firmly. "And for your information, we've uncovered several clues and leads that we didn't have in the last two months. Our perp is obsessed with marionettes and the woman taking them to like or had bought them became his targets. Even their approach to children might be of use. He drives a green truck. And a logger that is an expert when it comes to woods. If you don't think those aren't progress, then clearly you don't have any idea what's happening, Sir."

"Oh, I do, Black." Faucalt skipped a step, lunging in an attempt to emphasize the gap between his position as a supervisor and Cara's title as a mere detective. "I'm not blind, you see. I can clearly see what you're up to. Why this case kept going downhill and why this is moving like a damn snail. All because of your arrogance. You're intentionally stalling the investigation, aren't you? To claim back the spotlight that you've lost because of your nagging incompetence!"

Cara scoffed exasperatedly. "Have you lost your mind, Sir? Did your infinite delusions finally alienate your rationality? Or this is just your frustration speaking audibly?"

Faucalt's face reddened as though tomato soup has been thrown over his head. His nostrils flared and his lips twitch like the aftermath of a stroke. His anger exploded at once. And he immediately whipped his arm, trying to grab Cara's collar. "What did you—"

"Alright, let me stop you right there, Lieutenant." Agent Rose meddled, snatching his arm before it could land on Cara. "Insulting your detective—the brightest you ever have, in fact—is one thing so unacceptable, using strength on her is another. That could land you in a very serious predicament, Lieutenant. Lower your arm or Chief Alman is going to receive a report about misbehavior. Take note that I'm not the only witness he could gather."

Hearing the last line, the color on Faucalt's face rapidly vanished. His eyes wandered, and true enough, everyone had stopped moving, looking at him with great horror and confusion. Sniffing, he dropped his arm and glowered at Cara like it was her own fault that he lashed out.

"Thank you," Agent Rose said. "I suggest you distance yourself for a minute, Lieutenant. Request some coffee from your boys and unwind there. That might wash off your grumpiness and when you come back, we'd be more than delighted to accept you in our little discussion."

Faucalt didn't answer, his disapproving eyes bore into Cara and she knew he wanted to lash out more, show Cara that she was wrong for messing up with him. Cara looked at him blankly.

If Agent Rose didn't interrupt, I have been probably pushed down this hill.

"I'll see you later," Faucalt grumbled before he strode off, hissing and berating the officers standing in his way.

"Whoo, that's something else," Agent Rose commented. She cast a worried look at Cara. "Are you okay?"

Shrugging, Cara let out a sigh of relief. "I guess. I'm quite used to that behavior so nothing upsets me anymore. Thank you for doing that, by the way."

"Anytime. But hey, if he does that again, don't hesitate to report it. It's not uncommon for men with greater power to bully those below them. No matter how excellent you are. And they will become more entitled to themselves if one doesn't do nothing."

Cara choke down the chuckle that was about to lurch forward from her lips. If reporting him would make him stop, Cara would have done that ages ago. Faucault is not the regular type of power-sucker bully that undermines anyone threatening. He's way worse than that.

"Uh, Detective? I think you need to see this," the forensic guy said, drawing their attention. "We found something in the mouth."

He handed something small to Agent Rose.

"What's this? A red... dandelion?" she wondered, turning its side on her palm.

Cara's heart clenched when she heard it.

"There's a note and a piece of cloth," Agent Rose added, disassembling the paper rolled on the stem of the flower. She flattened it, and right away, the color on her face drained.

"What is it?" Cara asked, swallowing hard.

Agent Rose handed it over and with trembling hands, she took it slowly. She felt like she was punched in the gut after she read the note and recognized the torn fabric that came with it.

We're not the same man, Cara Black. This is my work.