Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

“I know Megan said not to jump to any conclusions—she always says that sort of thing—but my gut says we’ve got a copycat killer on our hands.” Sam furrowed his brow.

“Sure looks that way. There’s no denying the similarities between Hannah and Isobel, and Katie DeWitt James and her daughter,” Kimberley noted.

“It happened back in 1905. I’m thinking the person responsible for this must be one of them true-crime obsessives or someone real interested in the folklore of Dead Woman Crossing.” Sam rocked back on his heels.

“Someone must have found the opportunity to recreate the grisly events… but why? And why now?” Kimberley looked over at Sam.

“Sir, ma’am, social services have arrived,” Deputy Burns called out from behind where Sam and Kimberley were talking.

Kimberley turned back and looked at him. Giving him a nod and a tight smile, she thanked him. He was still pale, like he had never seen such horror before. Kimberley immediately felt sorry for him as she knew he was the newest deputy on the force. She remembered the first time she had seen a dead body. She was never the same after that. The image of the young boy can still be easily recalled to the front of her mind. Kimberley shook her head slightly, trying to erase the memory like on an Etch a Sketch.

“Why don’t you go back to the station and start working on Hannah’s phone records? You can get her number from the daycare. When Megan’s team is finished dusting her cell phone for fingerprints, I need you to pick it up and get into that device,” Kimberley said, giving him some reprieve from the crime scene.

He nodded and immediately turned away, practically running from the scene back up to his car.

“You’re a bit of a softie,” Sam said quietly.

“He’s too young for this. He looks fresh out of the academy,” she said.

“He is. Started the week before you arrived.”

Kimberley nodded. “I figured he’d be better off back at the station. He looked like he was going to faint or vomit, maybe both, and that’s the last thing we need at an active crime scene.”

Kimberley spotted the social-services worker. She was easily identifiable in a blazer, pinstripe black pants, and booties with a slight heel. Deputy Bearfield helped the woman walk down the valley on the side of the road, careful she didn’t trip, toward Isobel, who was still sitting quietly in her stroller while another deputy watched over her.

Sam and Kimberley met the woman by the stroller and introduced themselves.

“Nancy Singer,” she said as they shook hands. Nancy had black curly hair and a warm presence.

“Sheriff Sam Walker and this is Chief Deputy King,” Sam said shaking her hand.

Nancy pulled a notepad from her messenger bag that hung on her left shoulder. She opened it up and scanned it, then looked back at Sam and Kimberley. “I was told on the phone the mother was murdered. Mother’s name?”

Sam looked to Kimberley.

“Hannah. Her name is… was Hannah. I’m not sure what her last name is. Her daughter, Isobel, is fourteen months old, and she attends Happy Trails Daycare Center in Dead Woman Crossing. If you call there, they’ll be able to give you a last name, I’m sure.” Kimberley said it all in one breath. They were all just simple data points. That was all that Hannah would be now, a list of biographical facts. She’d have a name. A date of birth. A list of family members. A job she worked. Places she frequented. And a date of death. That was what angered Kimberley most about murder. It took a living, breathing person that had goals, dreams, quirks, flaws and boiled them down to a list of fucking facts.

The woman quickly scribbled down the pertinent information.

“They might be able to give you next of kin as well. The daycare center has parents put down emergency contacts and people authorized to pick up and drop off their child, so they should have something.”

Nancy nodded.

“I need you to find her next of kin,” Kimberley said, more of a command than a suggestion or a request. She needed to know Isobel would be safe and with someone that loved her, not in some foster home.

“We’ll do everything in our power to locate next of kin and place the child with them. You have my word, Chief Deputy King.” Nancy slid her pen and the pad of paper back into her messenger bag. “Thanks for your help. Isobel is in good hands.”

“Deputy Bearfield, please help Nancy get Isobel and the stroller safely up to her car,” Kimberley said.

He nodded and picked up Isobel, holding her against his chest with one arm. He picked up the stroller with his other hand. She immediately started screaming like she had become aware of everything. Like she knew her whole world had just changed, that her mother was dead, and she was all alone in it. He tried to calm her by bouncing her a little in his arm and making funny faces and talking in a soothing voice, but nothing was working. Kimberley grabbed an old worn-looking rabbit stuffed animal that had fallen from the stroller. She walked to Deputy Bearfield, sticking out the stuffed animal to the screaming child. It took her a moment to register, but as soon as she had it tucked under her arm, Isobel stopped crying.

“Good girl,” Kimberley said, rubbing the child’s arm. “You’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay,” Kimberley spoke softly.

“All good?” Bearfield asked, giving Kimberley a warm smile.

Kimberley nodded.

“I’ll need the police report for her case file,” Nancy said before turning away. “And I’ll take Isobel to the hospital to be examined. The report will be sent to the station to aid in your investigation.”

“Please let me know when you find her next of kin,” Kimberley added, a slight plea in her voice.

Nancy nodded before turning away. Bearfield followed Nancy up the hill with Isobel and her stroller in tow.

“Bear,” Sam called