Amber and I sat at the table and enjoyed our undisturbed Saturday morning breakfast. That in itself was something to be thankful for. I wasn’t called in on a case yet, and it was nine a.m. It could turn out to be a relaxing weekend after all. The house smelled like bacon, coffee, and pure maple syrup, heavenly scents on their own, but mixed together, that was something I could linger in forever.
“Want another pancake?”
“Sure, if there’s batter left. How about more bacon too?”
Amber grinned in my direction. “Coming right up.”
I watched my sister in her element. Amber loved to cook. The kitchen was her happy place. Her skills there came from our mom, and I was thankful for that. God knew my kitchen skills consisted of punching in the time on the microwave and hitting Start.
I got up, poured another round of coffee, and flipped the sizzling bacon. Five minutes later, we were both seated and starting our second serving of food.
Amber turned the page in the morning paper and stopped on an article that apparently caught her attention.
“Whatcha reading? Something must be interesting.” I’d cleared the table and returned to my seat, cradling the warm coffee cup between my hands.
“It says there’s been a surge of bear maulings in Arkansas over the last week.”
“Damn urban sprawl. Are they coming into people’s yards?”
“No, it sounds like they’re hitting campers in the state parks.”
“Wow. That ought to put a damper on hiking and camping until they find that rogue bear.”
“Not a rogue bear, Jade. These parks aren’t even close to each other.”
“That’s really weird. I wonder if there’s a shortage of natural food out there so that they’re becoming more dependent on humans and entering campsites. People as a whole are pretty ignorant, though. You know the type, weekend campers that have never used a hand-crank can opener in their life. The food is probably sitting out alongside the tent with a ‘help yourself’ sign next to it. Still, I thought bear were more timid unless they had cubs.”
“Yeah, I thought the same. So far, in two different parks, four people have died.”
“Oh my God, that’s horrible. What are the rangers doing about it?”
Amber shrugged. “It says they’ve advised campers to be watchful of their surroundings, hang food, keep bear deterrent handy, or stay out of the parks altogether until the situations are resolved.”
“Short of killing off the bear population, I wonder how they’ll resolve it. I mean, people go out to enjoy nature at its finest, yet they’re in the environment of wild animals. There are bear and mountain lions in a lot of parks. It’s their home.”
I crossed the family room and clicked the remote then changed the channel to CNN. Spaz snuggled between Amber and me on the couch. Relaxing with a cup of coffee in front of the TV on a Saturday morning was something I hadn’t gotten used to yet, but I intended to try. I’d indulge in an hour of catching up with local and world news, then the television would go off, and my weekend chores would begin.
“Check it out,” Amber said as she placed her coffee cup on the side table and gave the TV her full attention. “The newscaster is talking about the recent bear attacks.”
“Turn it up,” I said.
The CNN anchor described the latest incident. “Yet another disturbing bear attack has taken place just this morning. Earlier today, a hiker discovered a grisly scene in Lake of the Ozarks State Park. Paul Creighton, a twenty-five-year-old computer technician and avid hiker, stumbled upon what looked to be a bear mauling. According to Paul’s account, he saw what he believed to be three female victims and a destroyed campsite. He called the nearest ranger station immediately and waited for their arrival. This latest incident falls on the heels of bear attacks in DeGray Lake Resort and Bull Shoals-White River State Parks, both in Arkansas. Rangers in Arkansas and Missouri are puzzled and calling in wildlife experts.”
“That would make seven victims if this hiker’s account is correct. Maybe there’s rabid bear roaming the southern Midwest.” My phone rang on the breakfast bar as the broadcast went to a commercial. “Happy Saturday, J.T. What’s up?”
“Morning, Jade. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news on a Saturday morning, but I just got word that we need to travel. Wheels up at eleven thirty.”
“Okay, no problem.” I glanced at the clock and mentally calculated how much time I had before the garage door would be hitting my backside. I had thirty minutes before I’d have to leave. “What’s the case?”
“Have you heard anything about the recent bear attacks?”
“Well, sure, but why would we be called in?” I almost half-jokingly blurted out something about serial bear attacks but knew it was inappropriate. Instead, I waited for his response.
“There was another attack just this morning. Apparently, the local coroner, experts on animal attacks, and plenty of rangers and police officers are on-site as we speak.”
I nodded to Amber when she picked up my cup to refill it. “Right, I just saw breaking news on TV about it.”
“I’ll explain everything on the flight to Missouri, but what I’ve just learned from Spelling is that the investigators found a claw at the site. They’re securing the area until we get there.”
“Bear can lose their claws?”
He sighed through the phone line. “No, they can’t. Especially not razor-sharp metal ones.”
It took a second for me to process what J.T. was getting at, but now it made perfect sense. That was how the killings took place in parks so far apart. They were committed by a person, not a bear. I groaned. “Neko Te.”
“Excuse me?”
“Neko Te. They’re either tips you slide over your own fingers or a full, deadly glove-like apparatus. They’re Japanese weapons originally used by ninjas. They’re no joke, J.T.”
“How do—”
“I’ve been involved in martial arts for years. I’ve never seen an actual Neko Te, but I have in photographs. I know the Japanese names and terminology for all of those torture and killing devices. Picture the sharp claws on the gloves Freddy Krueger wore in the Nightmare on Elm Street slasher movies.”
“Yeah, okay. That was a Neko Te?”
“I’m afraid so, except more of a glorified movie version of one. Somebody is trying to throw everyone off track by instilling fear of wild, bloodthirsty bear roaming the parks. I’ll admit, it’s pretty clever. Hide in plain sight and kill women that look like easy targets. What better opportunity than to have an entire park of wilderness trails to stalk your prey in, and then let people assume wild animals did the deed. All right, I’ll gather my things and head out. I’ll meet you at the plane in an hour.”
I changed clothes, brushed my teeth, and grabbed my go bag. After saying goodbye to my birds, Spaz, and Amber, I headed to the FBI’s private hangar at Mitchell Field on the south side of Milwaukee.
After a two-hour flight, our jet arrived at Lee C. Fine Memorial Airport at one thirty. The ride from the airport to the park was a few short minutes. A deputy from the local sheriff’s department met us on the tarmac.
“Agents.” He stuck out his hand and shook ours. “I’m Lenny Stulman from the Camden County Sheriff’s Department. I’ve been asked to escort you to the scene.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Lenny, given the circumstances. I’m Agent Jade Monroe, and my partner is Agent J.T. Harper. We appreciate your assistance.” I tipped my head toward the cruiser. “Shall we?”
“Yes, ma’am. The park is only five minutes away then a mile hike back to the scene.”
“So the location is remote?” J.T. raised a brow as we climbed into the car.
“Yes, sir, off the beaten path, so to speak. The campsite the ladies chose, although unfortunate, was in a beautiful, secluded clearing on the edge of the woods. It was quite a distance from the public parking lot and cabins. Now, it’s nothing more than a gruesome crime scene.”
I powered my phone back on. “I’m sure it is. I bet it was the perfect location for the killer, though.”
Deputy Stulman turned in to the state park entrance and greeted the guard at the shack. The guard raised the arm that crossed the driveway and waved us through.
Lenny pointed at a trailhead at the end of the parking lot. “I’ll park near that path. It’s the trail that will get us the closest to the campsite area.”
J.T. acknowledged the comment and thanked Lenny. With our go bags left in the trunk, we exited the parked cruiser and followed the deputy up the trail. The trailhead started out wide and smooth since it was used quite a bit. As we got farther into the thick woods, the trail narrowed to nothing more than a twenty-inch-wide path. Once we reached the halfway point, several deputies stood along the path where it was blocked with yellow tape stretched between two trees. I gave Lenny a questioning look.
“We didn’t close the park, ma’am. Too time intensive, and we have no idea how many other people are enjoying the off-trail areas. The lieutenant figured it would be best to keep our focus on the site and close off a half-mile perimeter around the crime scene. That will keep hikers and looky-loos away.”
Voices in the distance from the main campsites had now faded into wooded solitude. The only sounds were from animals skittering by and an occasional bird calling out. I wondered how something so beautiful and pristine could hold such a horrific scene just beyond the next hill. After crossing a narrow creek with slippery tumbled rocks and climbing over a steep grade, we arrived at the top of a tree-lined ridge. Lenny pointed below, where the trees and the valley met.
“It’s down there in the clearing. Ten more minutes, agents.”
I stopped, shielded my eyes, and took a look at our surroundings and what lay below. I snapped off a few pictures with my phone to take in this vantage point.
“Lenny, has anyone searched the area yet?”
“So far, just fifty yards in each direction of the site, ma’am.”
J.T. pulled a twig out of my hair and gave me a thoughtful smile. I cracked open the water bottle Deputy Stulman had provided each of us and took a swig. We continued on.
We reached the scene where a lieutenant, two detectives, and a handful of deputies from the sheriff’s department were spread out over the area. The county medical examiner and several people from the forensics lab worked at the remains of the tent, where the bodies still lay. Several police officers that were called in from Osage Beach looked to be searching the surrounding meadow and woods. Thankfully, everyone was gloved. Lenny made the introductions, and I asked to see the claw that was found. Lieutenant Adam Taft led us to what remained of the tent. Inside, we saw the shape of three bodies, already covered with tarps. The forensics team had a portable table set up with several items bagged. The ME sat on a rock and went over her notes while J.T. and I spoke to the forensics team.
“May I see the claw that was discovered?”
John Keys, the lead forensic investigator, handed me a set of gloves. “Over here, Agent Monroe.”
I opened the Ziploc bag. “May I?”
He nodded, and I reached in and pulled out a single three-inch-steel blade, shaped like a bear claw and razor sharp on both sides. I jerked my head for J.T. to check it out.
“So that’s a Neko Te?”
“Well, it’s part of a Neko Te hand covering. This isn’t an individual finger sleeve. It actually looks like it popped off the main glove, likely from the force of his attack.”
“Would he wear gloves under the covering?” Lieutenant Taft asked as he joined us.
“I’d say normally yes, unless his prints aren’t in the system. The person wearing the device often wears thin, sturdy gloves to keep from accidentally cutting themselves and to keep the device from slipping. Also, if they’re taking the device on and off, the gloves would conceal their fingerprints. But when the Neko Te is worn, the perpetrator’s fingertips are facing out, not toward the Neko Te, anyway.”
The lieutenant nodded. “I see. That makes sense. So the device fits over the back of the hand?”
“That’s correct, sir. It’s a weapon that’s meant to inflict deadly results. It’s imperative to contact the medical examiners in the other areas where killings took place. I’m sure there has to be a way to test for metal fragments or metal residue in the slash marks. We have to know what we’re dealing with. We need information and lots of it, including updated ME reports, police interview reports, crime scene reports, and all news coverage information. We need eyes on that data, ASAP. Either there are vicious bear attacks going on in Arkansas or it’s the same serial killer as here”—I tipped my head toward the tent—“and he just crossed state lines.”
“Give me a minute, please.” Lieutenant Taft waved down his detectives. I heard him tell his men to get on the horn and gather as much information as possible from the other locations and that the FBI needed that data as fast as humanly possible. Both of the detectives headed back toward the park entrance.
“What else do you have bagged?” J.T. asked.
“We have the personal effects for each girl—license, wallet, college identification card, and so on. We also bagged three empty pint-sized vodka bottles.”
I swatted at a pesky mosquito that wouldn’t go away. “Easy prey for sure if the girls were impaired.”
Joy Pardy, the ME, joined the group. “The blood tests will tell us if the women were intoxicated and if there were any other drugs in their systems. Three young women being this far from other campers seem odd. Either they wanted to be away from civilization because they were up to something or they were avid wilderness enthusiasts and quite comfortable about camping a good distance from the crowd.”
“Have you had drug-related problems in the park?” I asked.
The lieutenant spoke up. “Nah, not really. This is a tourist area, Agent Monroe. Kids come here from all over the United States. There’s bound to be trouble at times but nothing that’s an ongoing problem.”
I turned toward Joy. “Can you give us a rough TOD?”
“I’d say between eleven p.m. and three a.m. I’ll know more once I get the girls on the table.”
I dug my fists into my pockets and kicked a few dust-covered pebbles while I thought.
J.T. spoke up. “So the families haven’t been notified yet?”
Lieutenant Taft responded. “To be honest, Agent Harper, we were waiting for you and Agent Monroe to arrive. We wanted your input before we spoke to the families. There’s a big difference between telling a parent their daughter was mauled by a bear and saying they were murdered by a serial killer while they were on a weekend camping trip.”
“Understood, and we’ll have the best answer to that dilemma in just a little while. Tell us about the area, Lieutenant. Interstates nearby, truck stops, a way someone could easily slip out of the park and disappear? Are there street cameras near any of the park entrances and exits, that sort of thing?”
“All of the above. There’s only one camera at the main entrance, though. It’s used to capture license plate numbers. We try to keep our parks as natural as possible, without a lot of modern technology and outside interference. If a loner walked in from any other path, he wouldn’t be on camera.”
I turned back toward the ridge we came from earlier and pointed. “That’s a good vantage point, wouldn’t you agree, Lieutenant? Someone could have been watching the girls from a distance before they made their move.”
“You’re absolutely right.” He held up his hand for us to give him a minute. With his shoulder mic, he called out to several deputies to search the ridge thoroughly. He told them to put a marker next to anything that might look suspicious and to get back to him when they were finished.
“What about the streets surrounding the park? Are there intersections with traffic cams, strip malls, grocery stores with parking lot cameras, gas stations? We need to cover every way somebody could have entered the park without going through the main entrance.”
“I’ll get Chief Faring from the Osage Beach PD on the horn. He can round up plenty of officers to handle that task. Excuse me for just a moment, agents.”
I watched as Lieutenant Taft paced the area while he spoke on the phone. I turned to J.T.
“I’m thinking the coroner can take the bodies out now. Everything else needs to be gone over more thoroughly.”
“Yeah, I agree. I bet nothing like this has ever happened in these parts. There isn’t a town near here that has over ten thousand residents. Look around. This is hiking, camping, and fishing central. It’s what this area has likely been known for—until now.”