The toaster strudel popped up, and I dropped the hot pastry onto a napkin. With a travel mug of coffee in hand, I was ready to go. I had plenty to do and conversations to have with Dave, the ME, and the groundskeeper at the cemetery. With my backpack slung over my shoulder, I said my goodbyes and headed to the car with the strudel, coffee, and keys.
I arrived at the police department in under five minutes, and looking into the visor’s mirror, I wiped my mouth and checked my appearance before exiting the rental car. I slugged down the rest of my coffee, popped a breath mint in my mouth, and crossed the lot to the building’s main entrance. Inside, I was led to Dave’s office.
I gave the door two raps and heard him call out to come in. I turned the knob and peeked around the opening.
“It’s me, and if you have a few minutes—”
“Of course. Come in, Kate.” Dave leaned back in his chair, as if he were stretching the kinks out of his back. I knew the feeling.
“There are a few things I’d like to run by you, along with the nightmare I had last night.”
Dave reached in his center desk drawer and pulled out a legal pad. The expression on his face told me he was all ears and ready to hear what I was about to say. “A nightmare about the case?”
I unzipped my backpack and pulled out all the notes I had compiled last night, along with my dream journal. The recurring nightmares I had about Robert Lynch always started out the same way. I didn’t know why because he had never chased me through a field, but they all began that way, and I had to explain that to Dave. Usually, Robert was replaced with the perp we were after, and I was replaced with the actual victim we were trying to find, and last night’s dream was no different. In time, I came to realize that I could trust my dreams, and they always proved to be more accurate than our own theories.
“Tell me about the dream, and was Janine in it?”
“She was. First, I have to say my dreams always start the same way. Robert Lynch is always the killer, and I’m always the victim. I believe that stems from the mental scars I still carry from the near-death experience I had with him.”
“And who could blame you?”
I gave Dave a quick smile. “Thank you for saying that. Anyway, when I replace Robert with the current perp and myself with the actual victim, the rest of the scene turns out to be eerily accurate. I can always trust what I see in my dreams.”
“That’s a big help. Go on.”
I had to clear my head for a second and took in a deep breath. Talking in great detail about the nightmares meant reliving them in a sense, and that was always traumatic. “Okay, as usual, I was running for my life and being chased by Robert. I’m confident that Janine was the actual victim since I heard him call her Tristan.”
“So we know for sure she’s with the john who picked her up at Third and Piedmont since she only used that alias when undercover.”
“That’s correct, sir. She was running through a field, and he was chasing her with an ATV.”
Dave squeezed his eyes closed. “I can’t even imagine how terrified she must be. So she had to have escaped wherever he was holding her.”
“I would agree, but he caught her in the end and said he was going to kill her.”
“Jesus! Why can’t we just find that maniac and rescue Janine?”
“Well, I do have a few clues. I’m not saying they’re enough to find her in an hour or even a day, but with the help of the PD, I believe we can locate them.”
“Whatever you need, Kate, just say the word.”
“I saw him briefly in my dream. I can’t give you a detailed description, but I have bits and pieces.”
Dave grabbed a pen from the cup on his desk. “Tell me everything you remember.”
“He was Caucasian and had blue eyes. I remember a lock of hair tumbling over his forehead as he knelt over Janine. My best guess is he has light-brown hair.”
“So far so good.” Dave grabbed two waters and cracked the seals. He slid one across his desk.
“Thanks. The property seemed like a large parcel, but I have no idea where it’s at. I do remember the area being very secluded and surrounded by trees, but there was also a clearing that I, or actually Janine, was running through.” I felt the dirt clods beneath my feet as I pulled the dream in closer. “It was definitely a plowed field with ruts and gullies.”
“Okay, a large parcel of land with woods and fields?”
“Yes, that’s correct, and a single-story house with a long driveway in the middle of it.”
“This is good information. That would take us at least to the outskirts of the city or farther.”
“You’re right, it was definitely away from urban areas. I remember the porch light reflecting off a bright chrome bumper as I tried to decide which way to run.”
“That could be a clue in itself,” Dave said. “Vehicles haven’t had chrome bumpers since the early seventies.”
“And I believe it was a truck. Since I couldn’t make out the color, I’m assuming it was a dark one. The perp chased me with a four-wheeler until I couldn’t run anymore. I fell to the ground with exhaustion, and that’s when I realized the victim was Janine, not me. He climbed off the ATV, walked toward her, and called her Tristan.”
Dave blew out a puff of air and whistled. “Wow. That’s a lot to digest and scary as hell. I hope to God Janine is still alive, and if we all work together, we might find her in time.” Dave set the pen on his legal pad. “I have to ask you, do you think it’s the Fulton County Butcher who has Janine?”
“I believe it is, and time isn’t on her side.”
“Okay, the ATV does us little good since they don’t need to be titled in Georgia, and the truck is going to be tough too.” Dave raked his hair and groaned. “I don’t quite know where to go with this information.”
“Have you spoken with the ME about the torso and legs found in the cemetery, specifically how long that body has been dead?”
“Yeah, I did.” Dave shuffled through the notes scattered across his desk. “Here it is. Based on the decomp of the legs, he said the body had been dead for about five days.”
I calculated in my head. “So she was likely killed last Wednesday?”
“His best estimate, yes.”
“So the torso was partially frozen, but the legs weren’t. That’s interesting. I need to speak to the groundskeeper at the cemetery and find out when he does his rounds. I heard on TV it’s twice a week, Saturday being one of those days. If we find out when the bag was dumped, we can check the neighborhood cameras for a suspicious vehicle roaming the area at night. When Ron and I drove the perimeter yesterday, I saw several apartment buildings and of course the train station in the immediate area. Somebody had to catch that truck on their surveillance camera, and if it is an antique or collector’s truck, it’ll stand out.”
“You’re absolutely right, and at this point, I think that’s our best bet. Great job, Kate, and that groundskeeper’s name and contact information is in-house since it was our own patrol units that interviewed him. Let me make a quick call and get the guy’s name, phone number, and address. You and I can head out and talk to him together.”
I gave the sergeant a relieved nod. “It feels like we may make progress today.” I checked my phone as Dave made the call. Jack had texted me twenty minutes earlier and said I could take the whole week if I needed it. Mary had agreed to cover during my absence. I sent a reply text with a thank-you and a thumbs-up, and I said I’d call him later that night for a real conversation. I pocketed my phone just as Dave hung up.
“I’ve got the man’s information. Feel like going for a drive?”
“You bet.”