His breath escaped in short white puffs as he closed up his SUV and returned to the scene, carrying the tray of steaming coffee cups to his team.
The building was old, long abandoned and beyond neglected. Looking at it from the outside, someone would have had to already know there was a freezer on the premises. Perhaps that list of someones would give them their first lead in months.
The investigating unit had been busy. They’d set up portable spotlights in the four corners of the expansive main area and assembled their equipment. Besides the rusting steel and corroded machine parts, evidence of squatters and remnants of various rodent visitors lay about. A mishmash of footprints could be seen in the buildup of dust and debris on the floor.
Searching for usable evidence would be futile. If there had been any at all, it had been obliterated by him and his men in their rush to get to Eden. Something he’d bet the Iceman had counted on.
The pure joy that surged through him when he’d found Eden alive had nearly overwhelmed him. He’d expected the worst. What else could he think given he’d been taunted by a sociopathic serial killer? In so doing, the Iceman had flipped the entire case on its head.
With all the attention Eden had given the Iceman in recent months, the killer must have had enough; he’d decided to return the favor.
Bile rose in Cole’s throat.
There was only one reason the Iceman hadn’t murdered Eden.
He wasn’t done with her yet.
If the Iceman planned to try again, he’d have to get through Cole first.
“Thought you’d call me with an update before you got here.” Jack McTavish emerged from the freezer and grabbed the large paper cup Cole handed to him.
“Tried. My phone’s been dropping calls since I changed carriers.” He managed a tired smile. “So I drove faster.”
“How’s Eden doing?” Jack drank deeply and let out a long, satisfied sigh.
“Sedated, but good. I put two officers on her until I get back there.” Which Cole was anxious to do, he realized.
Jack gave him a quick nod. His partner was Cole’s age, but there were times he acted a decade younger. Thirty-two as of last week—a celebration that had resulted in a two-day hangover for half the squad—his buddy reminded Cole of one of those ’80s TV cops with his good looks, sturdy stance and dedication that shone in too-wise dark brown eyes.
They’d been partners for a little over a year, ever since Jack had moved west from Chicago, but Cole was confident that Jack was a good cop. Solid. Dependable. One who would take this attack on someone Cole considered family as personally as he did.
“What have we got?” Cole asked him.
“I wish we could say it’s a gold mine.” Jack sounded as frustrated as Cole felt. “Other than eight corpses, and an agreement from the West Sac department for us to take the lead, not much.”
“So he is still hunting.” In any other circumstances, Cole might have smiled at Eden being a step ahead of them. “He was just hiding deeper underground.” Cole walked into the freezer, his eyes immediately going to the hook hanging from the ceiling.
Fresh rage descended and he gritted his teeth. He scanned the line of bodies and saw the pale copper-blond hair of a young woman. For an instant, he envisioned Eden’s face on the corpse. He attributed the unease to the arctic freezer temps, rather than dwell on the fact that he easily could have been too late.
He’d seen a lot during his ten years on the force, especially in the last two, serving as a detective. The crimes, the victims, the aftermath of what human beings were capable of inflicting on one another were like slash marks on his soul. Was it any wonder some cops lost their faith in...everything? But when the victim was someone you knew, someone you cared about... The breath he exhaled may as well have been fire, given the anger behind it.
Cole’s eyes burned as he blinked the vision of Eden away, but he couldn’t stop the image of her hanging in this place. What had been going through her head? Had she been awake? Screaming?
No. Eden wouldn’t have screamed. She’d done exactly what he would have expected her to do: she got herself down.
“Eden was lucky,” Jack muttered as if sensing where Cole’s thoughts had taken him.
“I doubt luck had much to do with it,” Cole said. Their killer had wanted Eden found. “Glad to see Hendrix is on scene.” He inclined his head toward the older silver-haired woman standing in front of a row of gurneys. The medical examiner headed up the entire forensic division, as well she should, given her nearly twenty-five years on the job.
“They’re taking bets,” Jack said. “This big a development, odds are it’s less than twenty-four hours before the Feds arrive.”
Not one to pass on a sure thing, he said, “Give me ten on twenty-three. Mona,” Cole acknowledged the coroner and stepped over to greet her and hand over the last cup of coffee. “Any idea how long they’ve been dead?”
“Won’t know for sure until the bodies thaw out.” Mona Hendrix gazed upon the first two that had been removed, her laser-like blue eyes widening behind thin wire frames. “But these aren’t recent kills. I’d say anywhere from a few weeks to a few months. So, Cole, tell me, what do you see?”
He hated this necessary game, but at least the frozen corpses didn’t have that sickly sour stench that crept into his nostrils and settled in the back of his throat. Instead the stench had been partially obscured by the frost.
“Their clothes are all still intact,” he observed, blanking out the fact that these people had once been living, breathing members of society. “And so are the bodies. No mutilations visible. Strange.” The previous three victims had been cut open, organs left exposed. These bodies didn’t have that. “A change in MO? Or are you saying it’s a different killer? This isn’t the Iceman?”
Mona glanced at him, disapproval evident in her face. “You know better than to put words in my mouth, Detective. I asked for what you see. I didn’t say tell me what I was thinking.”
Cole circled the gurneys, checking for differences, any variances from the first three victims’ files he’d memorized, a necessity a month back after realizing Eden had the Iceman in her sights. She might be used to working alone, but she wasn’t a cop. Somebody had to be her backup. “Like the original three victims, there doesn’t seem to be any racial, physical or gender-specific commonalities, but how they were found and where...”
The Iceman had led him to this spot. Brought Eden here. Eden... She hadn’t been focused on anyone other than the Iceman for ages. Who else could it be?
“What about their blood?” he asked and gave himself a mental pat on the back when Mona blinked wide eyes at him. It took a lot to surprise her.
“Their blood?”
Cole bent close and examined the side of the neck of one of the victims. “We need to take another look at the previous bodies.” He did the same check on the present victims, pointing to round puncture markings near the jugular in each case. “Eden’s doctor found these same pinpricks and bruises, only smaller, and on her arm, too. He believes whoever took her also took a significant portion of her blood.”
“Is that so. Well, it’s good to have a starting point, but it’ll be a few days before I can confirm that.”
“How about prints?” McTavish asked.
“We’ve got in one of those fancy new digital scanners. We’ll see how well it works. In the meantime, I’ll pull the files of the previous victims and go through them again. Interesting. Given their injuries, any blood loss would have been attributed to those