J.T. and I took the hallway to the lieutenant’s office. I rapped on the closed door and waited. We heard him talking on the other side of the wall, so we assumed he was on the phone. The sound of his chair being pushed back seconds later told us he had likely finished the call. We heard footsteps, then the door swung open. The lieutenant waved us in.
“Things have taken a turn for the worse.” He huffed as he plopped back down on his sturdy leather chair.
“What’s going on?” J.T. asked.
For the moment, I kept on my lap the killer’s profile that would be faxed to the TV stations. The lieutenant had something important to tell us.
“I just got word that a body was found along Interstate 65 about halfway between Conway and Bull Shoals. I imagine you can put two and two together.”
I let out an audible sigh. “Fred West?”
“Yep, according to the description that county’s medical examiner delivered.” He looked at his notes. “It says here the body was found by a passerby that made a quick stop to take a piss in the bushes along the highway. You could imagine the condition of the corpse after nearly a week. Purely accidental find.” He shook his head and ground his fists in his eyes. “Crazy how that stuff happens. Guy pulls over at a random spot to pee, gets out, and then smells something disgusting in the brush. He takes a look and nearly passes out. He had his wife call the state patrol while he threw up in the weeds.”
“When was the body discovered?” J.T. asked.
“According to the sheriff’s department, it was about two hours ago. The trickledown effect, going from state patrol to county sheriff’s department to us, took a while. I guess we can cancel the news broadcast for a missing trucker. Fred isn’t missing anymore.”
“His murder is related to our killer, though.”
“True, but the coroner has to make a positive ID first. The body didn’t have a wallet or a cell phone. The man has to have family somewhere that should be notified.”
“What was the cause of death?” I asked.
“Multiple stab wounds and a slit throat.”
“Lieutenant, we need to get this profile on all media venues, not just TV. People could be driving and listening to their radio instead of watching the news. Everyone needs to be informed that there’s a dangerous killer hitching rides or slinking around truck stops.”
“I agree. Let’s widen the net and get that profile out there right away.”
I handed it to him. “Take a look. There’s still time to add anything else you might think relevant before it goes live.”
Lieutenant Taft read the profile we had put together then stood. “It looks good. Let’s get it nationwide. We need to put a chokehold on this killer, and the sooner the better.”
“Okay, at this point, all we know is that Doc Wilson gave him a ride to where he turned off onto his own road from Highway 54, about five miles out of Osage Beach. We have no idea how he got from Bull Shoals to Lake of the Ozarks State Park, though. There could be more dead bodies out there along the highway.”
J.T. added, “And Highway 54 north goes through Jefferson City, a decent-sized town, then farther up, it connects with Interstate 70. That’s the scary part—the killer can be anywhere.”
“I’ll start calling the news channels, and J.T. can handle the radio stations. I’ll call our boss, SSA Spelling too. I’m sure he can get more nationwide media attention on this case.”
The conference room door opened at eleven o’clock. I had just ended my phone calls to the producers at every major television station in the Midwest. I had called SSA Spelling a half hour earlier and explained the situation. He said he’d spread the news, make sure the digital freeway information signs warned against picking up hitchhikers, and see what he could do about getting the coverage nationwide. Without the killer’s name or a clear shot of his face, it would be difficult to count on the public’s help in spotting him and calling something in to the tip line.
Lieutenant Taft leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. “I just got confirmation from the coroners in the DeGray Lake Resort and Bull Shoals-White River State Park killings. Both cases showed microscopic metal shavings in the wounds. I think we can go on record to say this killer has murdered eight people so far that we know of.”
I sighed and checked off the last TV station in the area. “My boss in Milwaukee is taking on some of this load, Lieutenant. As long as this killer is in our region, we’ll do whatever we can to find him and bring him to justice. If his trail runs cold, I can’t even say what the next step would be. He’ll be added to the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list, like the others, except we don’t even know who we’re looking for. The bits of information we have will be included with his description, along with the nearly useless composite sketch of his face.”
The lieutenant pushed off the doorframe and pulled out a chair. “I understand, and with any luck, somebody will notice something suspicious and call it in. It’s the only thing we have to go on unless we just wait for him to strike again.”
J.T. added, “We have to be proactive. We’re alerting all of the truck stops in the Midwest corridor to be on alert, and we’ll have a larger law enforcement presence patrolling those locations every few hours. The ladies of the night need to put on the brakes and keep themselves somewhere else, out of harm’s way.”
“Good plan, and I’ll see how many truck stops there are right in my own county. I’ll get my deputies to start those rounds right away.”