The Harbinger Read online

  "Fuck," Jason said under his breath. His lips twisted with disgust. “Where are her eyes?”

  The coroner pulled a yellow tarp over her body and the thin balding man stood up and put his hands on his hips. “Buzzards got to them.”

  Jason focused on the coroner’s skinny, sallow face. Cameron sidled up next to Jason and said nothing. The expression on his face said it all. He was as disgusted as Jason felt.

  “So what’ve we got?” Jason said.

  “She’s out of rigor. Been here at least thirty-six hours or so and you can see, she’s been picked over by the critters," the coroner said.

  “Great,” Jason scowled.

  Jason’s partner, Marshall Beck stalked over from outside the fire ring. "Well it took you long enough."

  "Really? You're bitching ‘cause I'm late when I'm on vacation? I told you we were out on the water," Jason said.

  "I don’t have anything else to bitch at you about at the moment," Beck said. He glanced down at the tarp-covered body. “Come on, let’s go someplace we can talk.”

  Jason nodded and followed Beck to the outer ring. "So it looks like the others. Body brought in and posed."

  Jason pointed to the pattern in the sandy dirt. “The raking is new.”

  “Yep but it’s about the only new thing. I’ve had these guys combing through every pine needle and rock within a 500-yard radius and they haven't found shit," Beck said.

  "You mentioned others. How many?" Cameron asked.

  "You must be the FBI friend," Beck said eyeing Cameron with caution. "I'm assuming you're here in some sort of official capacity?"

  "If you need my help you have it," Cameron said. "This just happens to be my area of expertise."

  "Well, that’s convenient," Beck said his tone full of sarcasm.

  "Actually it's fucking lucky," Jason said. "Saves me from having to make a call."

  "Did he set up the fire ring?" Cameron asked.

  "Nawp. According to the boys that found her, the fire ring has been here for years. They come out on holidays and have a big cookout and a bonfire. The boys said they haven't been out here since New Year's Day," Beck said.

  "Who has access to the property?" Jason asked.

  "We're waiting on the owner to come down to find out more," Beck said.

  "I'd like to be in on that interview," Jason said.

  "You got it," Beck said.

  "I'm not paying you overtime for this," the sheriff said sidling up next to Jason.

  "Yes sir," Jason said chuckling. He knew what the sheriff said and what he meant were two different things sometimes. "Sheriff Bedford, I'd like you to meet Special Agent Cameron Reed. He's a friend of mine from way back and he's agreed to help us with the case."

  "Well we really appreciate that," the sheriff said extending his hand out to Cameron. The two men shook hands, and the sheriff cracked a half-smile that Jason had seen only on a few occasions.

  "Well I'm here to help sir," Cameron said.

  "We appreciate that," the sheriff said. "Whatever y’all need you let me know."

  "Thank you sir," Jason and Beck said in unison. The sheriff tipped his hat and headed back to speak with the coroner.

  "Well, he seems like a nice guy," Cameron said.

  "Yes, he is unless his dander's up," Beck said. "I hate to pull you off vacation but I could really use you on this."

  Jason put his hands on his hips and sighed. There was no way he was going to just go back to his vacation. "Hopefully, Lisa will be able to forgive me."

  "You're on your own there, buddy." Beck clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, let's do this."

  The clock on the wall read 8:30 p.m. when Jason taped the picture of Bethany McCabe to the oversized whiteboard and wrote her name beneath it. He did the same with pictures of Ruthanne Coker and Ginny Garrity.

  “Our third vic’s name is Bethany McCabe,” he said.

  “She was a thirty-year old nurse at St. Frances Medical center in West Ashley. Family reported her missing six days ago.” Jason pointed to the picture of the slim strawberry blonde, standing on the edge of a precipice, wearing climbing gear, glowing, her arms in the air celebrating her accomplishment of scaling the rock face below.

  Jason fought the churning in his stomach as he looked into these women’s faces, and knowing their fates. Beneath the photos he wrote the words, No crime scene.

  “The only physical evidence we have is what we found on the bodies, which isn’t much of anything. He thought of everything. Each body was washed thoroughly before being dressed and posed.”

  “So he’s organized,” Cameron said. “And he obviously has someplace private to take them.”

  “Yep,” Jason said.

  “What’s the timeline?” Cameron asked.

  “Three months ago, Virginia ‘Ginny’ Garrity disappeared from the parking lot of Palmetto Beach after an argument with her boyfriend. She turned up two days later – same as our latest victim – posed.”

  “As an angel,” Beck added. He sat at the end of the conference table with three accordion file folders in front of him. Each folder held all the pictures from the discovery scene, and the pertinent reports.

  Beck looked frustrated as he paged through the photographs. Cameron half-leaned, half-sat against the edge of the conference table staring at the whiteboard. “Go on.”

  “Six weeks later, Ruthanne Coker disappeared after leaving her job as a waitress. She turned up the same way our first vic did. Posed as an angel.”

  “And now Bethany.” Cameron scrubbed the stubble on his chin. “Well he definitely has a physical type. Anything else they have in common?”

  "None of them were high-risk," Jason said. He pointed to the first photograph. "Ginny Garrity was a grad student at Charleston College. Ruthanne Coker was a single mom, putting herself through culinary classes at the local tech school and working as a waitress downtown at night.”

  “You said the first victim disappeared after a fight with her boyfriend?” Cameron asked.

  “Yep,” Jason said.

  “And he wasn’t good for it?” Cameron asked.

  “Nope,” Beck said. “We looked at him pretty hard, but it ended up they were fighting because he was drunk. She left him on the beach where he promptly passed out. We have a report from a sheriff’s deputy that he found him and ticketed him for unlawful camping.”

  "What about the second victim?" Cameron asked.

  "We have a witness that has her leaving her job around eleven PM on a Thursday night headed for home but she never got there. Her mom took care of her son while Ruthanne worked. It wasn’t until the next morning that her mom discovered that Ruthanne never came home. Her mom thought maybe she’d gone to see a boyfriend and didn’t think much about it."

  “It had happened before?” Cameron asked. “Did you ever find a boyfriend?”

  “No we didn’t. It wasn’t till late the next day when the boy’s daycare called asking when someone was going to pick up the boy that she realized something was really wrong. ”

  "So she left work,” Cameron said. “What happened to her car?”

  "We never found it," Beck said. “It’s like she drove off the face of the earth.”

  "The only theory we had is that she stopped for gas or had a flat tire and was targeted by the suspect. But we have no proof of that."

  “Hmm,” Cameron continued to stare at the board as if it might suddenly reveal answers none of them had seen before.

  “But he still posed her.” Cameron mused.

  “Yep.” Jason glanced up at the board. “What I don’t understand is why. Why an angel?”

  “Maybe he’s a religious nut,” Beck said.

  “Maybe. Angels are messengers of God. But what’s the message he’s trying to send?” Jason asked.

  “Maybe, or maybe this is his way of preparing them for the afterlife,” Beck said.

  “Maybe …” Cameron said. "Did Bethany live out this way, too?"

  "No, she lived out ne
ar Ravenel, where we found her. It's about thirty-five to forty minutes from here. ”

  "But Ruthanne lived out on John’s Island, correct? With her parents?” Cameron said.

  "Yes. Lots of people live out past West Ashley ‘cause it's cheaper. Quieter," Beck said.

  "Yeah and supposedly safer," Cameron said. “So . . . How did she disappear?”

  "She had met some friends after work for happy hour. Then she headed home and vanished, until today."

  "Were the restaurants of the last two victims close together?" Cameron asked.

  "Nope. Ruthanne's restaurant is down on Market Street in the middle of the Charleston hubbub.” Jason tapped the map on the wall of the county, pointing to the peninsula “And Bethany met her friends at Mickey O's, a sports bar and restaurant on the way out of West Ashley." He moved his hand down the map, touching the suburb.

  "And there's no connection? No overlap in their lives. No common vendors or staff at the restaurants. No …" Cameron made a gesture with his hand as if to roll things along.

  "None the we could find," Jason said.

  Cameron blew air out through his lips and scowled. "And another pretty redhead disappears."

  "Yep," Beck muttered.

  "Was there anything at all in the parking lot where the first victim was snatched?" Cameron asked.

  Jason gave Beck a pointed look. “Nope. It’s not well lit, and according to the boyfriend, it was deserted.”

  "All right." Cameron fiddled with a marker, popping the cap on and off a few times. "So this guy has a very specific type and he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. He’s controlled and organized and obviously has someplace private where he can hold these women. How long does he keep them again?”

  “Two days, then he kills them and poses them,” Jason said.

  “Not sure. I may see if I can consult with the BAU in Quantico. See if they have any insight to what all this means,” Cameron said.

  “In the meantime, we just have to keep working it,” Beck said. “I just wish we knew where he was taking them.”

  “My question is why no one saw anything or heard anything when these women disappeared. People pull out their phones for everything these days.” Cameron took a seat in one of the chairs and leaned back with his hands behind his head.

  “Well if someone recorded it, they didn’t report it. We got nothing on the security cameras for the restaurants. Both women left the parking lots in their cars.” Jason stretched, and rubbed his neck with one hand. “Once he abducted his target it wouldn’t be too hard to disappear with her.” He turned to the map of the county hanging on the wall again. “You have a lot of population around Charleston but people thin out the further you go out. And if he has a barn or some sort of workshop."

  "Which would make sense," Beck said. "He not only needs a place to keep her but a place to construct those wings."

  "That's a good point. We’re talking about somebody who's pretty skilled as a welder," Cameron said. “Have you looked at that angle?”

  “Yeah, but it’s more than just a welder. The frame is expertly crafted. Along with the leather, there are metal feathers on the wings that have been hammered and polished. I talked to an old blacksmith I know and he was really impressed with the wings. Said it would need somebody who really knew ‘smithing,“ Jason said.

  "Okay, that's good information," Cameron said. “We just need to know what goes into that sort of operation."

  "Well you need a forge and anvil and some hammers for starters," Beck said. “And a place to do it of course.”

  "How many manufacturers are there of forges and hammers and anvils?" Cameron asked.

  "Too many to narrow things down. And a lot of times anvils are handed down or they're made by the blacksmith," Jason said. "And anybody with a garage could do it. Hell there are YouTube videos that show you how to make an anvil from a block of steel."

  "It’s just as well. Until we understand what ties all these victims together, we’re not going to get a clear picture of this guy or how to find him," Cameron said. "I mean, were they all victims’ of circumstance? Or did he target these specific women? There has to be more to it than the way they look. The way he poses them is careful, reverent.”

  “Almost personal,” Jason added.

  “Yep. Exactly. Do we have a list of friends and family and ex boyfriends, ex-employers?"

  "Yeah, we do," Beck said, sounding tired. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Probably not exactly how you wanted to spend your vacation is it?"

  Jason rolled his eyes. "Well hopefully Lisa will forgive me. She took off this week, too."

  "I'm sure she will," Beck said. "She’s one of the good ones.”

  “You know I’ve been thinking …” Jason began.

  “Oh hell … that can’t be good,” Beck chided.

  “Maybe I should talk to Charlie,” Jason said. “She’s really good at ferreting out information.”

  “Good God man, there’s nothing hinky going on here, other than your run of the mill psychopathic behavior.” Beck scowled. “Can’t we just treat this like a normal case?”

  “Fine.” Jason twisted his lips with disdain. “If you’re that opposed.”

  “Who’s Charlie?” Cameron asked.

  “She’s Lisa’s cousin,” Jason said. “You’ll meet her Friday.”

  “Lisa’s psychic cousin,” Beck interjected. “You ask me, there’s something weird about that whole family. Except Lisa. She’s the most normal.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing nobody asked you,” Jason sniped.

  Cameron rolled his eyes. “A psychic? Really? Come on. You’re kidding me, right?”

  "Nope," Beck said.

  "Shut the hell up, Beck," Jason’s face flushed with heat. "She’s helped me close more cases in the last eleven months than you have."

  "A psychic." Cameron shook his head.

  "What?” Jason snapped.

  “I’m just surprised. That’s all. It’s kinda out there for you.”

  “Well, she’s the real deal. Out there or not, " Jason said. He shrugged. “And I trust her.”

  “What about you Beck? You trust her?” Cameron asked.

  Beck smirked. “Trust? I don’t know about that. She’s more of a last resort to me, unless you want something fine to look at.”

  “All right, that’s enough,” Jason said.

  “Yeah? She as pretty as Lisa?” Cameron pushed further.

  “Oh yeah. Her ass isn’t as tight though. She’s got a kid,” Beck said.

  “Enough! Why don’t you do something useful like go order us some dinner instead of being such a jackass," Jason said.

  Beck laughed and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "Looks like I hit a nerve.”

  Jason leveled a glare at Beck and his partner rolled his eyes without apology. Beck turned his attention to his phone and thumbed through his contacts.

  “So, what do y’all want? Pizza, Chinese or sandwiches?" Beck asked.

  “Pizza,” Cameron and Jason said at the same time.

  Chapter 3

  On Sunday evening after Charlie dropped Evan off at his dad's for the week, she stopped at the funeral home as she passed through town on her way to her cottage. She pulled around back of the new modern-looking building and parked next to Tom's black Ford Fusion. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she got out of her car and headed for the rear entrance, the one only employees used.

  The building was locked but Tom had given her the code and she punched it into the keypad. The door clicked and she pulled on the stainless steel handle, letting herself in. The cool air slapped her in the face and some part of her always thought she expected to smell chemicals but she didn't. Instead, a clean lavender scent hung on the air. It must've been some sort of deodorizer but it wasn't cloying. A strange sense of calm settled over her and she wondered what else might have been in the scented mix. She also wondered if Jen had helped him.

  She made her way down the darkened carpeted hallway to
ward the offices. A beautiful young woman with dark hair rounded the corner with a folder in her hand. She looked up, startled at first, then a smile spread across her face.

  "Charlie," she said her voice sounding excited. "What a nice surprise."

  "Hi, Joy," Charlie said, offering up a smile. Like Tom, Joy was a reaper. She didn't quite understand the intricacies of their relationship, but Tom always insisted that Joy was his sister. Just like William was his brother. It brought to mind so many questions for Charlie. Like who were their parents? Or did they just band together as supernatural creatures for protection? Maybe working together in groups made it easier to carry out their duties. One day, Charlie would ask Tom these questions. As soon as she worked up the courage.

  Joy moved closer, almost gliding across the floor. "Tom didn't say anything about you visiting tonight."

  "No," Charlie said, almost regretting her decision to stop by on a whim. "I was just in the area and thought I would pop in. He gave me the code to the door." She stammered and jerked her thumb behind her.

  "Yes, I believe he mentioned that," Joy said. She settled in beside Charlie and hooked her arm into the crook of Charlie's elbow. "He's downstairs working on Margaret Farrington. Why don't you come wait in his office and I'll go get him."

  Joy tugged gently on Charlie's arm moving them forward, heading them toward the short hallway of offices.

  "Okay, thank you," Charlie said wanly. "How have you been, Joy?"

  "Oh, I'm good," Joy said.

  "I never see you out and about in town like I do Tom. You don't work all the time, do you?" Charlie asked.

  "Sometimes it feels that way. I'm not quite as fond of mingling as Tom is. I find humans a little tedious sometimes. Not you, of course. No offense."

  Joy said no offense in a breezy way that made Charlie think that it was more something Joy had learned to say than something she really understood or believed.

  "Of course. None taken." Charlie chuckled. "Sometimes we humans are tedious as hell."