Shadow of Danger Read Online Free Page B

the road block. “Are you expecting company?”
    “Dammit,” the sheriff bitched as a man slid out of the van. “That’s Mathias Boysen. His family owns The Chippewa Gazette. It’s a weekly of no more than a dozen or so pages with nothing but local gossip, garage sale ads, and the occasional police blotter. We’d kept radio silence to avoid the real media, but this is such a small town, Matt probably saw all the cruisers and smelled a story. He’s nothing to worry about.”
    “In my experience, anybody with the media is something to worry about. Have one of your deputies stop him before he starts snapping pictures. Promise him the first interview if he can keep his mouth shut.”
    Roy called over Jesse Peterson, the deputy who had picked him up at the Eau Claire air field, and told him to take care of Boysen. Once the deputy ran off, the sheriff smoothed his mustache. “Okay, John, let’s not pussyfoot around here. You work for Ian, and he says you’re one of the best criminalists out there. I need to make this go away, so gimme your best guess.”
    John turned and studied the sheriff. Less than two hours ago, Ian had him flying off in CORE’s private jet to Eau Claire with no information about this case other than the sheriff’s name, that four women had been found dead just outside of Wissota Falls, Wisconsin, and that he was to follow Roy’s lead and instructions. The only other thing Ian had mentioned was that DCI wasn’t involved. John knew better than to question Ian, he had always been one of those “need to know basis” type of guys, and for whatever reason, he hadn’t felt John needed to know. But he wanted to.
    Most local law enforcement agencies who didn’t have the capability or capacity for this type of murder investigation would have asked for assistance from their state departments, or even the FBI before they called CORE. Why would Roy call Ian first? What was their connection? And his gut told him there definitely was a connection. John had known about Ian’s private line—a number none of the other agents had been given. Roy had called him on that line, which meant this case might be...personal.
    He’d find out eventually, either on his own, or when Ian deemed the time right. Releasing a smug smile when Boysen climbed back into his van, red faced, waving his arms and swearing a litany of curses at Jesse Peterson, John turned to the sheriff. “Without the ME’s report on the victims’ autopsy? Best guess? You’re looking for a long haul trucker, maybe one running a trailer with a refrigeration unit. I’m betting this guy didn’t do all four women in one night. I’m betting he froze them, then when the bodies built up and he had a load to haul...he dumped them.”
    Roy whistled. “Makes sense. Ed and Dan were always bitchin’ about the truckers that passed through here. Like Dan said, though, we just don’t have the manpower to ticket them.”
    John understood. Roy’s county covered many miles, with only a smattering of small towns popping up here and there like zits on a teenager. “I’m also thinking owner/operator. The killer owns his own rig. But again, that’s my best guess until the ME does the autopsy.”
    “It’s good though.” Roy nodded, then paled, his eyes focusing on the embankment.
    John turned, following the sheriff’s gaze, and clenched his jaw. A couple of members of the Eau Claire CSU team were hauling a black body bag up the slope. Four dead women. Brutalized, raped, and murdered. One in a bag, three to go. And one sick, twisted bastard to find.
    “You got a place to stay?” Roy asked as he continued to watch the CSU team load the body into their van.
    “CORE made the arrangements. I’ll be at the Chippewa Inn.” The only hotel/motel in the area. Lucky him. He’d love nothing more than a Marriott with room service and all the amenities. But this was Small Town, USA, so the Chippewa Inn would have to do.
    “It’s not a bad place. Arthur Foley