Willow, Alaska
Annie and Stone had been idling in his police-issue SUV in front of the Finkles’ old house for about forty-five minutes when they decided to check out the building to be on the safe side. They bundled up before they left the warmth of the vehicle. As soon as she slammed the door, a cold wind hit her smack in the face and she pulled her scarf up just enough to see.
Stone ventured up the rickety porch steps, trying each one to see if it would hold his weight. Annie followed close behind. When he got to the front door, he went to turn the handle and the entire door came off in his hand.
He tossed it aside. “I think it’s safe to say no one has used this entrance for a very long time.”
“You’re right. Let’s go around and see if there’s a better way in.”
“Okay.” He followed her toward the back of the house. That’s where they came upon a trampled path in the snow. They followed it to a set of cement stairs that led down to what she could only guess was a basement. They armed themselves and Stone took the lead.
He crept down the steps and tried the knob. It turned easily in his hand. He glanced up at her. She gave a quick nod and silently moved down behind him. He entered the room first, going right while she went left. It didn’t take long to clear the room. They put their pieces away and took it all in.
Someone had definitely been living there.
On the right stood a washer and dryer, some metal shelves, and a hot water tank. Against the far wall was a futon with a sleeping bag on top. An ice chest and camp stove sat in the corner and a stack of clothes were nicely folded on top of an upended plastic crate.
Annie wandered over to a table filled with candles. Tacked up to the wall above it was a yellowed newspaper clipping. She couldn’t read it clearly, the ink had faded with age but she got the drift; it was about Diane’s suicide. Her high school picture was secured next to it. “Looks like a shrine.” She picked up a carved wooden raven statue like the ones they found at the gift shop.
“Not that we needed proof, but she does resemble the victims,” Stone said over her shoulder. “Wherever he is, he’s not planning on being gone long. Otherwise I don’t think he’d leave these candles burning. I say we stake the place out and wait for his return.”
“Good idea. Better hide the SUV.”
Stone made it to the door before Annie stopped him. “Wait.” Something on the opposite wall caught her attention. She walked over and leaned in to get a better look, but that only blocked out the light from the candles across the room.
“What?” Stone came up beside her.
“I don’t know, just a second.” She got out her cell phone and used the flashlight app.
“Holy shit.” He stepped back. “How many do you think there are?”
“I don’t know, a hundred?” she answered.
The wall was covered with Polaroids of young women, all of whom resembled the babysitter. Annie found the victims from Alaska plastered on the far right alongside the five women from Wisconsin the year before.
“That would make him the most prolific serial killer in the United States,” Stone added.
“Yes, it would.” Annie stepped back. “Although The Green River killer, Gary Ridgeway, confessed to murdering seventy-one women, they believe his number was actually over ninety.”
“We’d better get out of here before he returns,” Stone said.
They followed the path in the snow around to the other side of the house where they noticed a shed. They drew their weapons. A flickering light danced on the open door. They pressed their backs against the outside wall. Annie peeked into the 8 x 10 structure, but Amundson was nowhere in sight. She tucked her gun away and ran into the room.
On a six foot wooden table lay a shivering woman. A thick leather strap held her legs down while a metal bar kept them three feet apart. Another strap went across her waist and kept her hands down at her sides. The last strap went across her forehead holding her head still. An empty metal bucket lay on its side, puddles of water pooled around the table on the dirt floor.
Stone stuck his head in the room. “He couldn’t have gotten far. You good here?”
“Yes, I’ll take care of her,” Annie said. “Go!”
Stone disappeared.
The poor girl’s flesh was a pasty bluish white and covered with giant goose bumps. The maniac had obviously been torturing her with buckets of water. Her mouth was propped open with a child’s wooden alphabet block. The letter A with a tiny picture of an apple was proudly displayed between her teeth. Annie was so angry she felt as if she could kill Amundson with her bare hands.
The girl wiggled uncontrollably.
“It’s going to be okay. We’re the police.” Annie didn’t know where to start. She began unzipping her jacket when she noticed a towel lying on a stool nearby. She grabbed it and started drying her off.
After tossing the wet towel, she covered the top half of the girl with her down coat. Then Annie removed her suit jacket and covered her from the waist down. She was working on wrapping the scarf around her head while muffled sounds came from the woman’s mouth.
“Sorry.” Annie tugged at the block, but the woman’s jaws were locked around it. “Dammit.” The girl’s eyes went wide. “I know it’s uncomfortable. I’m trying, but it won’t budge.”
Annie decided not to waste time on the object and see if she could find something to cut the leather straps instead. She turned around in time to see the back of a shovel heading straight at her face.
She threw up her arms before the rusty flat surface struck. The force knocked her on her ass. She stared up to find her attacker was Allen Amundson. His face was distorted in rage as he drew back his weapon to try again.
This time the blade was turned sideways as it flew toward her. He meant to cut her in half. Annie rolled just in time and it struck the ground instead. The man grunted.
She jumped to her feet and got in defensive mode, hunching down not only to protect her stomach but to make herself a smaller target. He jabbed at her with the head of the shovel, but she was swift.
The tiny space made it difficult to maneuver; the table took up most of the room and Annie didn’t dare use it to hide behind. Amundson wouldn’t hesitate to hit the defenseless woman if she got in his way. He stood between Annie and the exit. Her only chance was to get the weapon away from him.
One thing to her advantage was the fact that she had removed her outer layers, but he was bundled up to ward off the cold, so his movements were hampered and stiff. He was slowing down, and his face dripped with sweat. She on the other hand had the ease of dexterity.
He pulled back the shovel to swing again, but Annie hit him with a side kick to the abdomen. When he doubled over, she yanked the wooden handle from his hands and tossed it aside. He ran toward her head first, but she wrapped her arm around his neck and squeezed.
She worked at tightening her grip to make him pass out, but he grabbed her waist with both hands and pulled her down on the ground. They rolled until they abruptly stopped against the leg of the table, at which point he landed on top.
He sat up and stared down at her with an evil grin. Annie lifted her legs and wrapped them around his neck squeezing as hard as she could. The man tried to pry her locked feet apart, when that didn’t work, he slapped at her legs. His face was turning a darker shade of red by the second.
“Okay, I think he’s had enough. You don’t want to kill the bastard.” Stone leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.
Annie released Amundson and he dropped to the floor gasping for air.
“How long have you been there?” she said while trying to catch her breath.
“Long enough.” He reached down, offering her his hand.
She latched on and let him pull her up. “And you didn’t think to help?”
“You had everything under control.” Stone squatted, then leaned down until his face was even with Amundson. “How does it feel to get your ass handed to you by a girl?”
The man glared at him while he coughed and sputtered.
Annie ran over to the woman. “Help me get this damn block out of her mouth.”
Stone pulled it free without incident. The woman exercised her jaw. “I called for reinforcements as well as an ambulance.” He took off his coat and laid it across the woman.
“We’ve got to find something to cut these damn leather straps off.” Annie left that to Stone while she went to the woman and stroked her head. “Hi, I’m Annie and that’s Stone, what’s your name?”
“Melissa.” It came out a whisper.
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Melissa.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” Stone barked.
Annie turned to see what was going on and found Stone with his heavy waffle boot on Amundson’s neck. “If you haven’t had enough, I’m sure she’ll be happy to give you an encore.”
The man’s eyes met Annie’s and he frowned.
“That’s what I thought. Now be still, I’m not as nice as her. I’d just as soon shoot you.” Stone looked up at Annie. “Watch this meathead while I see about getting Melissa off that table.” He walked over and cut the leather with a sharp hunting knife he had in his boot.
Annie rushed over to help Melissa sit up until her feet dangled over the side of the table. Melissa glanced worriedly toward Stone, but his back was turned. “Don’t worry, he’s a gentleman.” She helped Melissa into Stone’s coat, knowing it would cover more of her body, and then placed her own down jacket over the woman’s legs. She wrapped her bare feet in the knitted scarf and lastly gave the woman her gloves.
Hours later Annie and Stone were in the basement with the forensic team. They had brought in portable lights and the room was as bright as day. Annie was studying the wall. “I have one hundred and seven pictures here.”
“Do you think that’s his final count?” Stone said from the other side of the room.
“At this point, we have nothing else to go on.” Annie pulled a snapshot off the wall and turned it over in her latex covered hand. “Stone!”
He rushed to her side and she gave him the Polaroid. “He wrote on that back.”
She snatched another off the wall and flipped it. “Here too. He has her first name and the state. That will go a long way to clearing these cases.
“We’ll be able to give a lot of families closure,” Stone answered.
“I think you’re going to want to see this, Detective.” A forensic tech called from the far corner.
They were by his side a moment later as he pulled a metal file box out of the wall. “When we moved the futon, I noticed some loose bricks.” He opened the box. It was full of jewelry.
“His trophies,” Annie said.