Kelly shivered from the cold air licking the sweat from her bare skin. Her gaze strayed to the heavens where a full moon hung over the corn maze. Transparent clouds swept by at a pace matching her heart rate. Brilliant light illuminated their diffuse edges, offering an eerie veil across the sky. Terror wasn’t just a silent rush of adrenaline and the chaotic pulse in her chest. It had a voice. Tonight it came with the brittle cornstalks swaying in the wind, seasoned with salt from the ocean nearby.
To him—it was a game. To her—a race for survival.
Thick, strong fingers gripped her throat, digging into her flesh. “I’m giving you a chance to live,” he said, dwarfing her in stature. Instilling double-edged empathy, a smile of deception clung to his handsome face, hiding the monster beneath. “I would have kept you, if you’d behaved.”
Her eyes strained in their sockets, seeking the nearest refuge. She would head straight for the lights attached to the trim on the old barn. A pitched roof layered with cedar shingles in the distance called to her as a safe haven.
Run silently. Run fast.
Kelly lifted a bare foot with a sucking release from the thick mud, prepared to die because living another day in his captivity would break her.
More shivers wracked her body as she stared into his hypnotic eyes. “I may not live, but you’ll be caught. Someone will put you in handcuffs for a change. I hope it’s a woman and she watches as they throw you in a cell to rot for the rest of your life.”
Not a stitch of emotion. Not even a blink. “Unlikely. Right now, your only concern should be if I catch you. The penalty won’t be a whip this time.”
“What made you this way? Why do you hate so deeply?”
His expression broke into a handsome smile. The type women swooned over until they faced the monster hidden behind the mask. His mind embraced sick, dark, misogynistic fantasies he nurtured into reality.
She flinched at the touch of his large palm against her cheek. A loving brush, instead of the extreme pain he’d inflicted over the last four days.
“I don’t hate you. I love to make you cry. Love the feel of my cock deep inside you. I love your pain.” He thumbed her jaw. “And I will savor looking in your eyes as your life drains away.”
He released her. His strength and certainty she'd die, intimidated her.
“Run, little girl.”
She crushed the thought of begging for her life. It hadn’t worked while he’d played his sick games with her body. “That’s right. I am somebody’s little girl. And once, you were somebody’s little boy.”
An uncommon flick of expression brought his brows together. “Outrun me, and you’ll live.”
Fear cracked a whip. Instead of running toward the lights, Kelly darted in the opposite direction. Before turning toward the only place she would find help, she needed to lose herself in the maze. She avoided the middle of the trail thick with mud and skirted the edge until she reached a fork in the rows of corn, and veered right.
Dead-end.
She stopped to listen. The sounds of the night and rustle of cornstalks only interrupted by her breathing. Was he moving? With narrow shoulders, she could pass between them without too much noise. She listened again, held her breath, and then darted between the stalks, headed for the light in the distance. Once she broke from the maze, she’d keep low and run for her life.
She crossed another trail thick with mud and turned sharply to the left, ignoring the pain in her foot when a root caught her frozen toes. Reaching another fork in the trail, she stopped and listened.
Nothing.
Her neck prickled with fear. She turned to look over her shoulder and nearly jumped out of her skin. Not more than twenty feet away, he stood in the middle of the path. His arms relaxed, a knife gripped in his right hand.
She closed her eyes for an instant as her courage drained.
Hope abandoned her.
She darted to the right. Thrashing through the next row, the dying husks snapped at her skin.
“No,” she screamed.
His presence closer. She’d experienced a chase nightmare before, but reality was much darker. She slipped crossing the next trail in the greasy mud. Vaulting to her feet, she charged ahead.
Closer.
She was getting closer to the light.
Closer to the edge of the maze.
She passed a hand painted sign with a fat, little jolly pig. The irony of it making her want to scream. She entered a clearing, taking a sharp left and went down on her knees, but before she could rise, his fingers coiled in her hair. She swallowed her fear. Ignored the sharp sting of her roots when he yanked hard, and she fell against him.
“Not fast enough,” he said.
Kelly screamed, but the knife scored her throat, cutting through her larynx. She clutched at her neck. The heat of her blood on her chilled skin, the last warmth she’d ever feel. Darkness came from all sides. With a punishing grip, he yanked her around and stared into her eyes.
“So beautiful.” His voice gravelly but soothing. His handsome features smiled at her as if he loved her. Features any woman would be drawn to. A strong carved jaw and warmth in his green eyes.
His deceit ran down her body in rivulets. His vow to protect—broken with the last beat of her heart before a dark pit claimed her.
* * * *
Mattie quickly turned up the volume on her police scanner when she heard the dispatcher call for a Sidney unit to respond to a SD sudden death on West Saanich Road. The address piqued her interest. As Halloween approached, large spray-painted signs had been posted on all the major routes from the Swartz Bay Ferry Terminal to downtown Victoria. Her instincts told her she needed to get out to the corn maze, double-time.
She yanked open her desk drawer, pulled out her purse and snatched the keys from her desk. The hair on Mattie’s neck tingled. This could be victim number six.
If the Victoria Ripper had struck again, he’d gone out of bounds for the first time. Three months of escalating panic in the easy-going, tourist-luring city of Victoria where the flavor mirrored the best of England, had quietened. A seven month reprieve, but he was back.
She toed her drawer closed, snagged her leather jacket from the miniature coat tree tucked in the corner of her cubicle, and ran down the carpeted walkway past the other journalists, shoving her arm in the sleeve of her jacket.
“Need a camera guy?” Dominique called out as she flew by his five by seven piece of floor at the New Victoria Times Colonist newspaper.
“Do ducks swim?” she responded, not slowing down until she reached the call button on the elevator.
Dominique hefted his camera bag over his shoulder before the elevator door opened. “Did he strike again? The way you shot out of your cubby, I figured I better tag along.”
“Your instincts are right on track, Watson,” she teased, entering the elevator and pressing the P1 button.
They ran through the underground garage and jumped in her car. Thirty minutes later and several TV station vans arriving before them, Mattie parked in a spot along the gravel driveway across from a muddy pasture. She hadn’t been the only one with elevated psychic powers. Other media outlets had taken a chance, acting on their sixth sense. A security zone of police officers surrounded the stalks of dying corn. The police department’s first challenge was to contain and control a scene. Whatever was in that maze had a heavy guard around the perimeter.
The local tourist attraction drew locals and their families. Designed to challenge the heartiest of maze lovers, it offered people a couple hours of fun trying to work their way through the twists, turns and dead-ends.
Mattie threw the car into park. Someone, however, had left a surprise no one wanted to trip over. If this victim was like the others, it would be a grisly find. The kind that can never be erased from the mind.
She and Dominique stepped out of the car when three Victoria PD cruisers drove in, lights flashing, and parked behind her.
“Mattie!”
She recognized one of the Vic PD as Stuart Hellman. They’d often crossed paths over the last year. He’d been assigned to the task force to find the Victoria Ripper and unofficially assigned to release information to her.
“Stuart, hey. Guess my intuition is right if you and your fellow officers are here.”
He walked beside her with his broad shoulders and heart-stopping physique.
“It’s been months since he’s killed. Is it another Ripper murder?” she asked.
“I haven’t seen the body yet.”
“You know what I’m talking about. You wouldn’t have driven all the way out here if you hadn’t been given a heads-up by the Sidney RCMP.” They aimed for the gathering reporters and cameramen. The media relations officer for the North Saanich RCMP stood in front of the plywood ticket booth. Beside her stood the Officer in Charge and a couple other constables. It was as close as Mattie would get to the scene.
Before they parted ways, Stuart gently gripped her arm and she nodded at Dominique to keep going. “Mattie, we’ve passed like ships in the night for months now. Thought maybe…” He cleared his throat, blue eyes gazing at her from strikingly masculine features. “This is probably the worst timing, but are you seeing anyone?”
“If you’re talking about getting information on the case, then no. You’re my go-to guy.”
He grinned. “Think you know what I’m talking about. More like dinner. Drinks.” He paused. “Getting to know each other outside of bloodshed and mayhem. It’s kind of an unwritten rule we shouldn’t see anyone from the media, but…”
She focused her attention down at their boots, only a foot apart. “In case I’m some kind of evil temptress trying to imbed myself in your good graces in exchange for information?”
He nodded. His ruggedly defined jaw jutted into a hard line as he grinned at her. “Yeah, something like that.”
“I’m not much of a temptress.” She smiled up at him. Stuart stood over six feet. She wasn’t exactly short. Her eye level a perfect match to his full lips. Muscles rolled beneath his uniform shirt, and probably down the rest of him, making her feel pixie fairy delicate. “I’m going to blow this before getting an appetizer, but I haven’t been on a date in two years.”
His mouth gaped a little. “Why?”
“Ah.” Mattie exhaled and laughed uncomfortably. “Working weird hours. Chasing stories, I guess.”
He jerked his head. “I better go. Um…dead body.”
“I’ve got to go, too. I’ll…see you later.”
Stuart put it into a trot and she watched his athletic gait as he headed for the entrance to the maze. For a big guy, he had a seriously sexy stride, not to mention a very fine ass.
She nudged her way through the swarm of reporters and journalists to stand beside Dominique. The press release would begin soon with the PR rep from the RCMP Royal Canadian Mounted Police walking toward them. The first officers on scene would have called in forensics and the Coroner, especially if they suspected the killing was connected to the ones in Victoria. The RCMP would have done a very shallow search for ID, but they normally waited for forensics so none of the area would be contaminated by lookie-loos or even other police officers.
“Wonder what they’re waiting for?” Dominque commented, taking some shots of the attending officers. The TV cameramen surrounding them balanced equipment on their shoulders, and the TV reporters held mics loosely in their hands, ready to shove it into the first face they could. Journalists, like herself, armed themselves with a recorder or a notepad. The rest would be her words on paper.
“Probably confirmation from the forensics team and maybe the Victoria PD Task Force. Stuart’s been working on it from the beginning.”
“Stuart, huh?”
Mattie gave him a narrowed eye. “Constable Hellman, and it doesn’t hurt to make friends with the local PD. How else am I going to find out details?”
Dominique was a good kid. New and up for anything, he took pictures as if everyone was a high profile celebrity. With a head of rusty brown hair and a few hundred freckles running across his nose, he’d been recently assigned to her hip.
“Stuart,” he drawled, “looked like he was standing a little close for just exchanging case details.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Did you get some shots of the maze?”
He nodded. “Waiting for the money shot when they bring out whatever is in there.”
“Don’t be crude. If it’s one of the Ripper victims, she probably died in a horrible way.”
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The RCMP media relations officer lifted her hand for silence. “You know how this goes. I’m going to give a statement and we’ll allow questions, but I won’t promise an answer.” She surveyed a tablet in her hand then began. “At approximately twelve p.m. this afternoon, the Sidney detachment received a report of a woman found within the maze. She was deceased when the officers arrived on scene and it appears from the Coroner’s initial findings, she died between eleven p.m. and twelve a.m. last night. The family is being notified so we will not release her name at this time; however I can tell you she is a twenty-eight-year old Caucasian female. Her injuries are severe and, of course, fatal. Because of the nature of the injuries, the Victoria PD have been called in to confer with Sidney’s RCMP detachment.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Mattie spotted the Coroner and his assistant, along with four officers, one of them Stuart, assisting the stretcher with a body bag on top through the mire of deep muck. Dominque’s camera clicked beside her head. He had his answer for the delay. The police tried to keep the media’s attention on the briefing while they extracted the body behind them. Strategy in containing a scene included containing the information they might need for an arrest.
It had rained hard over the last three days and the field was soggy. The Coroner stood out with his head of white hair. She’d be calling him next. Gary Phillips happened to be a golfing buddy of her dad’s. Mattie’s father retired five years ago from the RCMP, ending his career as a staff sergeant from the West shore detachment, covering Langford, Metchosin, Colwood, and halfway up the Malahat highway.
Before the media relations officer could take a breath, everyone was yelling at her. Mattie held her hand up to be noticed. She knew she had the advantage. Not only did they know her because of her father, but because she had been reporting this story with as much accuracy as she possibly could from the first victim.
“Ms. Bidault, go ahead with your question.”
“Yes, ma’am. Since the Victoria PD have been called in, I’ll assume the injuries may reflect the Victoria Ripper MO. Will the RCMP investigate this particular murder, or will you hand it over to the Victoria PD?”
“Initially, we will take the lead in this investigation. If no doubt is left that this woman is part of the other investigation, we will work with Victoria PD to assist them.”
Mattie knew how a debrief worked. Once you had the attention of the media officer, you didn’t let go. “Was it the owner of the farm or a customer who came across the woman?”
“Unfortunately, it was a family: parents and two small children. A very gruesome experience and the Victoria PD have already offered their victims unit to council the family if they need it.”
“Thank you.”
The officer nodded at her and then took a local TV station reporter’s question. The rest of Mattie’s article would have to come from the experts, and one was just disengaging from the stretcher. No point probing for minute details, the RCMP would not jeopardize the case by releasing any information.
She turned and jumped from grassy mound to grassy mound, aiming for the gravel driveway. Unfortunately, the mud was like grease. Stuart saw her coming, and he starting walking toward her just in time to see her feet go up in the air and her ass land in a ten inch mire of mud.
“Awww, shit.” Up to her elbows in goo, she groaned.
“Oh hell, Mattie. Let me help you.”
“Wanna be a dirty cop?” she asked, smiling up at him.
“In more ways than one.”
She offered her hand, and Stuart ignored her caked fingers, helping her to her feet. She swatted her butt, her entire backside covered in a mixture of mud and manure. “Just great.”
Stuart chuckled, and when she gave him a narrowed eye, he pressed his firm lips shut to stop himself. “Sorry, but that was a very ladylike fall.”
“Gee, thanks.” She held up her notepad, now a mud ball, with disgust. “Dominique is going to get an eyeful because I’m not getting in my car with these pants on.”
A naughty glint sparked in Stuart’s eye. “Lucky Dominique.”
Ignoring the innuendo because cops were basically manwhores until they found their future wives, she said, “So what will you share with me? Is the MO the same?”
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s the same. Pretty nasty, I can tell you that.”
“Her throat cut?”
He nodded.
“Disemboweled?”
He nodded again.
“Any organs missing?”
“One.”
“The heart?”
“Coroner’s initial survey says it’s the heart.”
“Why would the Ripper come out here all of a sudden?”
“Don’t know. That’s what we were discussing in the maze while the forensics team gathered their bags of goodies.”
“No weapon?” She gripped Stuart’s arm when he didn’t respond. “Is there a weapon?”
He turned toward her and looked guilty as hell of keeping the info under taps. “No.”
“Did he make a mistake? Did he?” Mattie chewed on her inner cheek waiting for his answer.
Stuart gazed over the field. “Maybe. Have to see what the body reveals.”
“He hasn’t made one yet,” she said, wondering out loud.
“The coroner will tell us more.”
“Gary Phillips is seriously good at his job. I hope he does.” Mattie paused, thinking about the Ripper’s change in venue from the historic spots in Victoria to thirty minutes up the road. Although a country setting, the maze had plenty of visitors. The Ripper liked to leave his kills in the open. “Do you think she was killed here or somewhere else?”
Stuart fingered the radio mic on his shoulder and turned down the volume. “It rained overnight. Hard to tell, but I’d say here.”
They both gazed across the open field, the neighbor’s property more than screaming distance. As an ambulance drove past, the driver gave them a flick of his finger, not letting go of the wheel as the vehicle bounced through the dips and mounds of the field.
“It’s a public place. He knew she’d be found.” She sucked on her top lip like she often did trying to work out a problem. “Why didn’t she scream? Get the attention of the owners here on the farm?”
Stuart placed his hands on his hips, but didn’t offer anything.
Mattie drew in a deep cleansing breath. “Okay, so he brings her here alive. She doesn’t call out, or not loud enough to attract any attention, so either she’s gagged or…”
“Or?” Stuart asked, setting his heavenly blue eyes on her.
“Or she thought she had a chance to get away, and if she screamed, he’d know where she is. How far in was her body?”
“Ever been through this maze?”
“No.”
“There’s check points. You’re given a map and clues to write down along the way. She was found near the fifth check point.”
Mattie hooked a hand over her right shoulder and massaged absently-mindedly. “The victim wouldn’t have had a map, but she would have had the lights from those barns over there to guide her. Was this a game to him?”
“Pretty sick game.”
“He’s been silent since April. What drew him out, Stuart?”
He shook his head. “Not sure. Until we catch him, there’s no answers and he’s left zero clues.”
“He has to be highly intelligent.” Mattie flicked a blob of mud from her notepad.
“No doubt in that, but his psychosis is working against him. He needs his fix. Needs the sex. Needs to cause pain.” Stuart paused. “Thanks again for not printing all the gruesome details about the bodies.”
She shrugged. “The murders are bad enough. Going into minute details about pre and post death injuries would be shock value, and that’s not of value to the general public.”
The silence grew a little tense between them. Every time they crossed paths it was like this. She’d ask as many questions as she could, and he’d answer all he could, and then a thick pause followed before they went their separate ways.
Stuart’s gaze travelled straight up her body and ended on her eyes. “Mattie…”
“Stuart, dating someone who’s been on a two year hiatus isn’t a great bet.”
“I’ve wanted to ask you out for a long time now.”
She blinked with surprise.
“It’s just, if dinner turns into another dinner and things worked with us, I…” He crossed his arms over an impressive chest and shook his head. “I have particular tastes when it comes to a…more intimate relationship.” He shrugged. “I know I’m jumping ahead of myself, but I want to be upfront with you.”
Mattie blinked again until the light bulb popped on. “Oh! Uh, no, I’m not into threesomes or anything like that. Sorry.” Heat bloomed in her cheeks even thinking about it.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Didn’t think you were, but that’s not what I’m talking about. My lifestyle isn’t for everyone and something tells me, not you, but I… we keep running into each other and each time I think if things worked out…” He laughed and raised a brow. “Maybe we could meet somewhere in the middle.”
She swallowed and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think…” Oh man, this was one very strange conversation. She was better at being direct. “If you’re talking about BDSM, I’m not sure it’s my thing. I have two older brothers. Survival of the fittest and all that. I learned to give as good as I got. I’d probably punch you straight between the eyes if you hurt me.”
He broke out laughing, broad shoulders shaking. “Ah, Mattie, I love your sense of humor and your tell it like it is attitude. Guess that’s why you make one helluva good journalist.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that, especially coming from a boy in blue.”
One of the officers he’d come with waved at him. “I’m being paged by the team.”
“Work before kinky pleasure.” She grinned at him.
Stuart swayed as if leaving, then stopped. “Think about it.” His gaze crossed her face and a little spark lit in her belly. “The truth is every time we talk, even if it’s about a case, I want more time with you. To be brutally honest, you have one very gorgeous body that I haven’t stopped thinking about for twelve months. There’s a lot of variations when it comes to my lifestyle, and it doesn’t all include pain. If anyone is going to make you want to crawl out of your skin with pleasure, I’d like it to be me.”
He left her gaping in the middle of a farmer’s field, and there wasn’t much left of her that didn’t resemble a puddle of water.
“You ready to go? What the hell happened?” Dominque asked, startling Mattie from her daze.
She snapped her bottom lip shut. “Huh?”
“Your ass is covered in mud.”
“Thanks, I didn’t notice.” She pointed. “Get in the car while I strip.”
His brows shot up. “Really?”
“How old are you?” she spouted.
“Twenty-four.”
“That’s what I thought. You don’t get to look.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Get in the damn car, Jimmy Olsen.”
Dominique adjusted the camera belt around his neck. “Hey, that’s funny. Never heard that one before.”
“Shut up.”
Any new photojournalist in their office was teasingly referred to as Jimmy Olsen, after Superman and Lois Lane’s sidekick. They usually had to put up with the ribbing until another younger photoguy joined the team.
“Do anything fancy with that camera and it appears at the next Christmas party, you’re dead meat.”
Dominque gave her a toothy grin from the other side of the car. She rolled her eyes and pulled off her jacket and jeans, stripping down to her T-shirt and skivvies, then tossed the rest in the trunk. Getting up to her condo would an interesting feat.
Once in her car, Mattie pulled out onto the gravel driveway, but had to wait until a black Dodge Charger got out of her way. As they slowly passed each other, she glanced across her shoulder, and he did the same to her. With his shades on to escape the brilliant afternoon sun, she couldn’t see much except for his jet black hair, angular features and a dark afternoon shadow on his cheeks. The back of her neck tingled as she put her attention on navigating the pot holes in the driveway.
“Seen that guy before?” she asked.
“What guy?” Dominque asked, taking a picture of her bare legs.
She sighed. Children.