It had been three days since Spencer had her encounter in the woods and since our drive-in date. The fact that the blood samples that had been rushed through the lab earlier were from our latest victim proved she had indeed been attacked by the same killer. I felt I was going in circles, and nothing seemed to lead anywhere.
I flipped on the TV while I pulled a silk tie loose.
“If you are just tuning in, we are here outside the Syracuse Police Station waiting for Lt. Sinclair, the spokesman on the case, to hold the first press conference on the Whiskey Lake Killer.” Donna Polly, our local reporter, pointed behind her.
Spencer emerged from the bedroom in my t-shirt and eased onto the couch. With my coffee in hand, I made my way over and stood by her.
The lieutenant stepped up to the mic,
