The Kade ranch materialized out of the darkness, a scene of ordered chaos illuminated by the harsh glare of floodlights. Rory’s truck crunched to a halt on the gravel driveway, and for a moment, she sat still, steeling herself for what lay ahead.
The clock on the dashboard read 3:47 a.m. Less than an hour since Bobby Kade’s frantic call. The killer’s handiwork would be fresh, undisturbed by time or elements. This would make it easier to gather evidence, but there was also something unsettling about arriving at a recent crime scene, knowing the killer was just there.
And might still be around.
“You ready for this?” Evan asked softly from the passenger seat.
Rory nodded, not trusting her voice. They’d seen their share of crime scenes, but this…this was different. This was a killer escalating, growing bolder with each victim. And they were always one step behind.
As they stepped out of the truck, Rory caught a whiff of the acrid scent of fear and death. She made her way toward the cluster of emergency vehicles. Their flashing lights cast eerie, pulsing shadows across the landscape.
Bobby Kade stood apart from the emergency personnel, his tall frame hunched as if under an immense weight. When he saw Rory approaching, he straightened, revealing a face etched with grief and shock.
“Bobby, I’m Assistant Sheriff Wood,” Rory said. “This is Deputy Tate.”
Bobby nodded, his eyes downcast. “I… I don’t understand. Why would anyone want to hurt my father?”
Rory placed a gentle hand on his arm, feeling the tremors running through his body. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Kade. We’re going to do everything in our power to find who did this. Can you tell me exactly what happened?”
Bobby’s voice trembled as he spoke, his words punctuated by the click of camera shutters and the low murmur of crime scene technicians.
“Dad woke me up sometime after two,” he said. “Said the cattle were acting strange.”
Rory nodded, her eyes tracking the movement of a technician carefully bagging a soil sample near the fence line. The acrid smell of luminol hung in the air.
“Normally I would’ve called Jake to help out—Jake Boyer, he’s one of the hands—but he isn’t around, off looking after his sister. Anyway, Dad and I split up to check the herd. I went north, and Dad…”
His voice broke. In the distance, a generator hummed to life, powering portable floodlights that cast harsh shadows across the pasture. Rory squinted against the sudden glare, noting the trampled grass and deep hoof prints that spoke of the cattle’s earlier panic.
“I heard him yell,” Bobby said, his hands shaking. “By the time I got there…”
A breeze picked up, carrying with it a faint, acrid odor Rory couldn’t quite place.
“…And then I saw that…that thing burned into his chest,” Bobby was saying, his voice breaking. “What kind of monster would do something like that?”
Rory’s attention snapped back to him. “Burned into his chest? Not on the ground?”
Bobby nodded miserably. “Right over his heart. It looked like…like a brand or something. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
A chill ran down Rory’s spine. This was new. The killer was evolving, becoming more personal in their violence. She exchanged a glance with Evan, seeing her own concern mirrored in his eyes.
“We’re very sorry you’re going through this,” Rory said. “Please stick around in case we have more questions, alright?”
Bobby nodded and swallowed hard. Then Rory and Evan stepped past him, heading toward the body.
Wesley Kade lay spread-eagled on the damp earth, his unseeing eyes staring up at the night sky. His throat was dark with bruises, a testament to the brutality of the attack. But it was his chest that drew Rory’s attention. There, burned deep into the flesh over his heart, was the same intricate symbol they’d found at the other crime scenes.
Rory crouched down, careful not to disturb any evidence. The brand was fresh, the skin around it angry and blistered. This hadn’t been done postmortem—Wesley Kade had been alive when the killer marked him.
“The cattle,” Rory said suddenly, standing up. She retreated the short distance back to Bobby. “Bobby, you said the cattle were agitated. When exactly did that start?”
Bobby frowned, thinking. “Must’ve been around…two, little after? Dad heard them from the house—that’s why we came out to check.”
Rory’s mind raced. The timeline was tight. The killer had somehow agitated the cattle, lured Wesley out, subdued him, and performed this elaborate, brutal ritual—all in the space of about an hour.
“Evan,” she said, “we need to talk to the neighbors, anyone who might have seen or heard anything unusual tonight. And get me everything we have on local ranchers—big operations, small family farms, everything. Our theory about the killer targeting only wealthy newcomers just went out the window.”
As Evan moved off to coordinate with the other deputies, Rory drifted through the crime scene like a ghost, absorbing every detail: the position of the body, the pattern of the symbol, the disturbed earth around the area. Each piece was a part of the killer’s story, if only she could learn to read it correctly.
The sky was just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn when Dr. Chen approached her.
“Preliminary findings,” she said without preamble, her face grim. “Cause of death was strangulation, same kind of rope used to kill the previous victims.”
“Time of death?”
“I’d estimate between two and two-thirty. Whoever did this worked fast.”
“Yes,” Rory murmured. “No hesitation, no uncertainty. This person is a pro.” She looked up, meeting the coroner’s eyes. “Thank you, Dr. Chen. Let me know if you find anything else.”
As Rory made her way back to where Evan was coordinating with the other deputies, he glanced up, his face drawn with fatigue and stress.
“What’ve we got?” she asked.
Evan stepped away from the other deputies and ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration she’d come to know well. “Not much. No one saw or heard anything unusual, apart from the cattle. But I’ve got a list of all the ranches in the county—big and small. There are dozens of potential targets, Rory. If the killer keeps up this pace…”
He didn’t need to finish the thought. If they didn’t catch this psychopath soon, Bearclaw County would become a killing field. And then there was the effect of simply knowing the killer was on the loose, targeting ranchers. Fear could spread like wildfire, causing even longstanding neighbors to view one another with suspicion.
Some tragedies drew communities together. But they could just as easily drive them apart.
Still, it wasn’t as if they could suppress this information even if they wanted to. Word would get out, and the best they could do was to control the narrative, try to prevent the spread of panic.
And, if possible, prevent anyone else from dying.
“Alright,” Rory said. “We need to warn every rancher in the county. Set up a buddy system, make sure no one goes out alone to check on their herds. And I want patrols on all the major ranch properties tonight.”
“Sheriff Harlan’s not going to like that,” Evan said. “We don’t have the manpower for that kind of coverage.”
Rory’s jaw set in a hard line. “Then we’ll deputize civilians if we have to. I’m not letting another family go through this.”
As the sun began to peek over the horizon, casting long shadows across the crime scene, Rory’s stomach churned. Three victims now. Three families shattered. And they were no closer to catching the killer than they had been at the beginning.
She walked to the edge of the property, needing a moment alone to think. The vast Wyoming landscape stretched out before her, beautiful and indifferent to the human tragedy unfolding in its midst.
As Rory scanned the horizon, a figure in the distance caught her eye. Her heart leapt into her throat. For a moment, just a moment, she could have sworn she saw Ramona standing there, clear as day. A strange sense of hope surged through her, defying all logic and reason.
“Ramona,” she whispered, taking a step forward. “Ramon—”
But as she looked more closely, her heart sank. It wasn’t a person at all, just a gnarled old tree, its branches twisting in the wind in a vaguely human shape.
She stopped in her tracks. What had she been thinking? That her sister would just show up out of the blue after all these years?
Before she could dwell any further on the illusion, Evan’s voice called her back to the present reality. “Rory! We’ve got something!”
She jogged back to the crime scene, where Evan was standing with one of the tech team. The tech held up an evidence bag containing what looked like strands of coarse, dark hair.
“Found these caught on the victim’s clothing,” the tech explained. “Could be human.”
“Get these to the lab immediately,” Rory said. “I want a full analysis, and I want it compared to the fibers from the Montero case.”
As the tech hurried off, Rory chewed her lip, thinking.
“What’s on your mind?” Evan asked.
“That brand—why did the killer brand Kade’s chest?”
“Maybe he had something personal against Kade, something that made him hate Kade more than the others.”
“Maybe,” Rory murmured. “Or maybe his MO just evolved. And if that’s the case…then who knows what he might do next?”