Read Online The Last Victim by Karen Robards - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Karen Robards
Ads: Link
Mead, who was six foot one, weighed in at around two hundred thirty pounds, and was a former football player and current assistant high school coach, without Mead showing any signs of defensive wounds, wouldn’t he?” Crane asked.
Charlie shook her head. “I can’t speculate about that. I will tell you that many times serial killers exhibit what appears to be extraordinary strength, which is believed to result from the adrenaline rush they get from acting out their fantasies.”
“According to the position, depth, and angle of the wounds, the perp is six foot one and approximately one hundred ninety pounds,” Kaminsky said impatiently, giving Crane a look. “We got that already without any help from Dr. Stone here. What we’re still working on is how he was able to take out Mead and the other adult male with such apparent ease. You’d think they would have fought like tigers.”
“He used a stun gun.” Having left without explanation about half an hour earlier, Bartoli was back, standing in the doorway, looking as tired and wired as Charlie felt. His eyes were bloodshot, the top button on his shirt collar was unbuttoned, and his tie was slightly askew. Stubble darkened his cheeks and chin, and his hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it. He was still handsome, which Charlie absently noted in passing even though her thoughts were almost totally consumed with gruesome things. “We just had that confirmed a few minutes ago. The marks were right up past the hairline on the base of the neck, so they weren’t immediately apparent. They were present on the other adult male, too.”
The first case, which involved the slaughter of the Breyer family and the abduction and subsequent murder of their eighteen-year-old daughter, Danielle, included an adult male victim, Danielle’s father, whose first name Charlie had forgotten for the moment. The second case was the Clark family, consisting of two pre-pubescent sisters and their mother, as well as the teenage victim and presumed target, seventeen-year-old Caroline. The attacks had come three weeks apart, in separate small beach towns along the North Carolina coast. Theteenage girls had been determined to be the primary target. Both their bodies had been found within ten days of the murders of their families and their abduction, buried under nearby boardwalks. It was only after the third attack, which was on Bayley Evans’ family, that the FBI had gotten involved, because until then no one had put the crimes together and suspected they were dealing with a serial killer, or connected the new killings to the unsolved Boardwalk Killer cases of fifteen years before. The local FBI had in turn contacted ViCAP, or the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program, a specialized group that tracked serial killers, among other particularly dangerous violent criminals. Bartoli, Crane, and Kaminsky were an elite Special Circumstances FBI unit that was sent around the country to investigate serial killers as an offshoot of ViCAP, and they were assisting local agents in this case. When Bartoli had filled her in on these facts on the plane ride down, Charlie had been impressed with how fast the FBI had worked. In not much more than twenty-four hours, every available investigative force had been mobilized.
Including herself.
“That explains a lot,” Crane said, while Kaminsky threw him a triumphant look.
“And you thought they had to have been drugged. Told you that would have been way too hard to coordinate,” she said.
“You like being right way too much,” he retorted.
“This making any kind of sense to you?” Bartoli asked, his eyes on Charlie. She was looking at autopsy pictures of the other two adult female victims—the mothers, although she didn’t like to think of them in that way—whose wounds confirmed what she already knew.
“You’re looking for a Caucasian male who was raised by a single mother.” Charlie swiveled her wheeled chair around to
Charlie shook her head. “I can’t speculate about that. I will tell you that many times serial killers exhibit what appears to be extraordinary strength, which is believed to result from the adrenaline rush they get from acting out their fantasies.”
“According to the position, depth, and angle of the wounds, the perp is six foot one and approximately one hundred ninety pounds,” Kaminsky said impatiently, giving Crane a look. “We got that already without any help from Dr. Stone here. What we’re still working on is how he was able to take out Mead and the other adult male with such apparent ease. You’d think they would have fought like tigers.”
“He used a stun gun.” Having left without explanation about half an hour earlier, Bartoli was back, standing in the doorway, looking as tired and wired as Charlie felt. His eyes were bloodshot, the top button on his shirt collar was unbuttoned, and his tie was slightly askew. Stubble darkened his cheeks and chin, and his hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it. He was still handsome, which Charlie absently noted in passing even though her thoughts were almost totally consumed with gruesome things. “We just had that confirmed a few minutes ago. The marks were right up past the hairline on the base of the neck, so they weren’t immediately apparent. They were present on the other adult male, too.”
The first case, which involved the slaughter of the Breyer family and the abduction and subsequent murder of their eighteen-year-old daughter, Danielle, included an adult male victim, Danielle’s father, whose first name Charlie had forgotten for the moment. The second case was the Clark family, consisting of two pre-pubescent sisters and their mother, as well as the teenage victim and presumed target, seventeen-year-old Caroline. The attacks had come three weeks apart, in separate small beach towns along the North Carolina coast. Theteenage girls had been determined to be the primary target. Both their bodies had been found within ten days of the murders of their families and their abduction, buried under nearby boardwalks. It was only after the third attack, which was on Bayley Evans’ family, that the FBI had gotten involved, because until then no one had put the crimes together and suspected they were dealing with a serial killer, or connected the new killings to the unsolved Boardwalk Killer cases of fifteen years before. The local FBI had in turn contacted ViCAP, or the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program, a specialized group that tracked serial killers, among other particularly dangerous violent criminals. Bartoli, Crane, and Kaminsky were an elite Special Circumstances FBI unit that was sent around the country to investigate serial killers as an offshoot of ViCAP, and they were assisting local agents in this case. When Bartoli had filled her in on these facts on the plane ride down, Charlie had been impressed with how fast the FBI had worked. In not much more than twenty-four hours, every available investigative force had been mobilized.
Including herself.
“That explains a lot,” Crane said, while Kaminsky threw him a triumphant look.
“And you thought they had to have been drugged. Told you that would have been way too hard to coordinate,” she said.
“You like being right way too much,” he retorted.
“This making any kind of sense to you?” Bartoli asked, his eyes on Charlie. She was looking at autopsy pictures of the other two adult female victims—the mothers, although she didn’t like to think of them in that way—whose wounds confirmed what she already knew.
“You’re looking for a Caucasian male who was raised by a single mother.” Charlie swiveled her wheeled chair around to
Similar Books
