the fuel residue the lab identified on it. The offender took the fuel container with him.”
“After he left a fuel path for the fire to follow to the entrance. He needed for the body to be found,” she mused aloud. “A place like this, the fire could have burned itself out. No telling how long before the body was discovered. He wants immediate attention. Why does he need it? Thumbing his nose at the force in general? Doesn’t feel right.” Turning on her heel, she surveyed the blackened circle again. And the heavy hoist chain and hook. “He needs the attention but not necessarily from us. He wants to generate unease. Fear.”
Nate frowned. “From who?”
“From his future victims.”
There was less to see at the next scene. It wasn’t as well chosen as the first or third spots had been. The offender had secured Tull to a tree to keep him upright. The spreading fire had torched that tree and those around it.
Risa scanned the charred remains of the wooded area. It looked like a forest fire had raged a crooked path through the space, leaving devastation in its wake.
“Once the trees torched, I understand the fire could be seen for miles. It probably drew the quickest response of the three.”
“And he left the badge and ID over there, right?” She pointed toward the clearing several hundred yards away. Nate made a sound of agreement. “Took a chance that they wouldn’t be found, that far away from the victim. But he wanted to be sure they didn’t get destroyed in the fire. That wouldn’t have suited his purpose at all.”
Nate’s cell rang. While he answered it, she moved closer to the clearing, turning to get a different angle. Neither scene was familiar to her. She hadn’t dreamt of any but the third one. It was useless to wonder why. There had never been any rhyme or reason to the visions. What they showed or what remained hidden. Little about them was clear at first. If the same one repeated, sometimes more was revealed with each recurrence. Sometimes not.
Much remained open to interpretation. Some showed scenes from the past, others dealt with future events. They couldn’t be summoned by force of will, and the details from the scene couldn’t be sharpened. They were tortuous in every way. Hideous visions of agony that haunted her sleeping hours. Nebulous intangibles that spoke more to emotion than logic.
But she’d spent her career trying to make sense of them. Trying, finally, to put them to use. Because otherwise they existed only to torment.
“Change of plans.”
She jerked a little at Nate’s words. Looked up to see him striding toward her. “We’ll have to put off our next stops until later. Shroot came up with some possibilities for the location where that tape segment might have been shot.”
As he headed back toward the center of town, Risa had his phone and was talking to the detective. “Z’s Place? Spell that, please.” She jotted it down with the rest of the possibilities on the notepad she’d pulled from her purse. “Ah. Zee’s Place. Address?” She scribbled down his answer. “What year phone book is that in? Is it in the current one? When did it stop appearing?”
The man had found three places in all, one that was currently in existence and two that had apparently gone out of business in the mid to late eighties. “Nice job,” she said when he’d finished relaying the information. “Keep looking.”
His response had her laughing in sympathy. “I’m sure Detective McGuire will figure out some way to make it up to you.”
Nate shot her a narrowed look as she handed back his phone. “Your detective is ready to stab pencils through his eyes. Have a little empathy.”
“I could always make it up to him by having you take his place.”
“On the other hand, I’m sure he feels good about the assistance he’s lending to the investigation.” Her sympathy didn’t run quite far enough to sharing the thankless job. “Intrinsic reinforcement is really the most meaningful reward.” She spied a Starbucks up ahead. “Aside from good coffee, that is.”
When he drove past the store, she shot him a look. His profile was expressionless.
“Bu-u-t . . . I guess I can get along without it.” She went back to studying the notes she’d jotted down.
“You know what we might need here?”
“Coffee?”
“Some sort of city historian or a book on commerce in the city. If the place in that picture hasn’t existed for a couple decades,