Robert Walker - Grave Instinct

Jessica continued, “Truth is, since this particular loon didn't actually murder anyone, it's unlikely he'd start now.”

“ So? Sounds like his crimes've gone well beyond murder, if you ask me.”

“ I agree,” said Eriq from about six hundred miles away, “but now we have to deal with what's in front of us. He's free and it's a good bet that Daryl has graduated to murdering young women. All Deitze cured him of was the effort of digging for his victims.

“ Nothing solid just yet, and authorities checking the address you gave me say it appears abandoned. No dark vans sitting outside.”

“ Well, if Cahil is committing murders with his van down here, it's highly unlikely he'll have a van sitting outside his home,” Jessica pointed out wryly. “Penn state's federal pen,” she repeated, again giving thought to the facility and her history with it. “They're building a reputation for hiring the worst damned shrinks I've ever come across.”

“ I know the irony's not lost on you, Jess.”

Jessica explained for Lorena's benefit, “Same facility that housed Mad Matthew Matisak, who so ingratiated himself with Dr. Gabriel Arnold that the doctor let his guard down and paid the ultimate price. His foolishness also allowed the way for Matisak's escape.”

“ An escape that left a wide swath of murder across the nation, from Pennsylvania to Oklahoma and Louisiana,” added Santiva.

“ Now Dr. Jack Deitze has fallen under the spell of this maniac Cahil,” Jessica said. “Setting him free.”

“ Deitze wants to meet with us, Jess. He says he has proof that Cahil could not have committed the Skull-digger killings. Can you get back soon to see him? Maybe stopover in Pennsylvania on your way back home? I could meet you there, perhaps?”

“ I suppose, although I don't relish visiting that place.”

“ Soon as you wrap up there, we'll make arrangements.”

Another office phone rang, and Combs went to that line, picking up and listening intently to someone on the other end. Combs hung up and interrupted the conference call by saying, “Jessica, Chief Santiva, that call I just took. News of a brainless body found in a farmer's field outside Savannah, Georgia, only about a hundred and forty miles from Jacksonville.”

“ Did you hear that, Eriq?” “I did.”

“ I've gotta go to Savannah.”

“ Good luck and keep me apprised. I'm going to keep digging into the Cahil lead from here,” he replied before hanging up.

Combs said, “I can get you to Savannah. My patrol car'll get you there as fast as anything else might.”

“ I'm sure you have friends in Georgia, and I'm sure to bristle a few hairs there. I'd welcome your company and assistance, Sheriff.”

“ I know I've allowed myself to become emotionally involved in the Manning girl's murder, Jessica, but I still want to do everything I can to help catch this snake.”

“ And cut off his head?” “You think my anger's a bad thing?”

“ I'm not the one to tell you that becoming emotionally involved in the Manning case is a bad thing. I'm too highly invested in this case myself to point any fingers.”

Lorena bit her lower lip and slipped on her gun and trooper hat. Jessica called the FDLE in search of John Thorpe. Unable to locate him, she left word at the lab regarding what had occurred, and that she'd call him from her cell phone. Together, she and Combs rushed for the waiting cruiser in the underground lot.

COMBS drove the cruiser herself. The two law-enforcement women talked the entire way, learning that they enjoyed many of the same leisure activities, including swimming, diving and flying. They had even visited some of the same vacation spots over the years. They talked about the beauty of Florida's underwater state park, the John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park.

Strobe lights ahead alerted Jessica and Lorena that they were at the location outside Savannah, Georgia, where the victim awaited them. Along the way, Jessica had reached J.T., who had agreed to remain in Jacksonville to tie up the loose ends there and to await the outcome of the tests they had run on Amanda Manning.

Lorena pulled off the gravel road they had been on for the past mile or so, within a foot of thick trees and brush, but while they saw three Georgia State Patrol cars parked to form an oddly shaped triangle, nose to tail like circling wagons, there was no one around to greet them. No one in sight.

It was still daylight, but the woods seemed eerily still. No birds in the trees, no sounds of life whatsoever, not even insect life. A cloud-filled sky and a darkening horizon threatened rain, while the tops of tall pines began to rock in a developing wind, creating a welcomed noise. Then came a rolling thunder from the distance.

“ Where is everybody?” Jessica wondered aloud.

“ Kind of creepy. Like a B horror movie,” commented Combs. “Let's go see if we can find these crackers.”

As they exited the car, Jessica and Lorena heard someone coming through the dense wood alongside them. Lorena fingered her holster but remained calm. From the trees came a uniformed deputy. “That you, Combs? Dr. Coran?” he asked.

“ It's us, Milt,” replied Combs.

“ You look as sweet as ever, Lorena,” replied Milton Stof-fel, extending a hand, his smile cheerful and reassuring. “Sorry we have to meet under such awful circumstances, Dr. Coran, but I guess you meet a lot of people under… Well, I won't say worse conditions, but similar conditions.”

Jessica extended her hand, reading his nameplate as they shook. Lorena had told her all about Stoffel's call to her office on the trip up to Georgia.

“ Unfortunately, Senior Deputy Stoffel,” Jessica replied to him, “you're only too right about meeting me. Most people would rather see Jack Kevorkian coming their way than to see me.”

Stoffel laughed at this. “01' Dr. Death? Hell, you're a sight prettier.”

“ Most of the people I meet are engaged in their work when I meet them, and most I meet deal with death daily.”

He nodded knowingly. “We know about the case in Jax-town, but we just never expected it to happen here. But we do have some good news for you, Dr. Coran, Lorena.”

“ Oh, and what's that?” asked Combs.

“ Killer left something of himself behind this time.”

Jessica instantly wondered if the deputy had found the mark inside the victim's skull. She exchanged a look with Combs, and Lorena instantly asked, “What've you got, Milt?”

He led them cautiously to the triangular center of the three patrol cars, and Jessica saw the marker where a tire print was clearly visible. “Could be the killer's,” commented Stoffel. “Didn't want to lose it before we got a cast made.”

The two women stared at the tire treads in the soft red earth of a bare spot alongside the road, encircled by the patrol cars. Another state trooper came through the thicket and said, “I'm on it, boss. Just have to get the kit from my cruiser.”

“ Thanks, Wil,” replied Stoffel, “and don't forget the shoe prints.”

“ I'm on it! I'll do the shoe prints first.”

“ You've got shoe prints, too?” asked Jessica.

“ We do. It's why I have to lead you in and outta the crime scene. So far, they're intact and untouched.”

Jessica clenched her medical bag to her chest. “I want to see the shoe prints.”

He led Jessica and Combs to the shoe prints, again a sparse area giving way to soft red clay. “Photos've already been taken of the tire and shoe prints.”

The shoe impressions were clear and easily read, like giant fingerprints against the earth, the wild swirls and eddies of the pattern indicating a unique design and wear. As a result of design and wear, no two shoe prints were the same. The prints isolated by Stoffel showed a man going into the field and coming out. “We'll need an impressions expert to be sure, but my guess,” said Jessica, “he weighs between one hundred and seventy and one hundred and ninety pounds. I'm going by the shoe prints pointing away from the body, not toward it.”