They came out of the tree line, and the hint of blood touched the cold air. The rich, metallic smell made his pulse quicken in anticipation—something that always happened at the beginning of a hunt, even after all his years as an IIS agent. He ignored the sensation and swept his gaze across the barren, snow-speckled landscape. Ten years ago, the killer had carefully avoided obvious paths, concentrating his movements across barren stone or through water. Given this killer seemed to be imitating those past events, he very much suspected the situation would be similar here. Only here, the ground wasn't as rocky, so there was a good chance that they might find a print.
If the rangers hadn't walked all over the area, that was.
Which wasn't being entirely fair, he acknowledged. He glanced at Vannah's stiff back, his gaze drawn to the gentle bob of her golden ponytail, and then drifting down the curves of her back and rump, so lovingly displayed by the close-fitting, pale green ranger's uniform.
He'd seen some sloppy work done on many of the reservations, but Ripple Creek didn't appear to be one of them. Her initial report to the IIS had been one the best he'd seen, though that didn't mean she and her team had the skills to deal with something like this.
She led him through the rocks and stopped when she reached a large, egg-shaped stone. He stopped beside her, his nostrils filling with her rich scent as his gaze swept the scene before them. It was exactly the same as the seven he'd seen long ago, right down to the mutilated ge**tals and the victim's left handed, one finger salute. It had always looked like the dead were offering one final opinion on life itself.
Two men worked near the feet of the victim, the older of the two—and the man he presumed was the reservation's acting coroner—on hands and knees between the victim's legs, intimately scrutinizing the gaping hole that had once contained penis and scrotum. A much younger man stood ready with a camera and an eager expression.
A third ranger squatted at the top of the stone circle, but he looked up as Cade came to a halt. The flicker of animosity in his gray eyes was brief but nevertheless there. He placed a flag in the soil, rose and carefully made his way toward them.
"We've found several foot prints, both human and wolf. I've flagged them all.” He came to a halt beside Vannah and crossed his arms.
Presenting a united front against the invader, Cade thought, and barely restrained a bitter smile. How many times did he have to face such shows of unity before people began to realize he was actually working for them, not against them?
"Ronan, this is Senior Agent Cade Jones, from the IIS."
The russet-haired ranger held out his hand. His grip was neither aggressive nor passive, just the grip of a man very comfortable in what he was and what he was doing.
"Pleasure to meet you, sir,” the ranger said.
Like hell it was. “Please, call me Cade. I don't believe there should be formalities between law enforcement officers.” Not as long as they understood he was in charge. He waved a hand toward the victim. “How far have you progressed?"
"We've taken photos of the victim and surrounds. Done an initial check for marks, but haven't moved the victim as yet. I've ordered an ambulance to take the body to the state medical examiner."
Cade nodded. “I'll have someone waiting there. Did you find anything different from the first murder?"
"Not so far."
"What is the coroner looking at?"
"Odd marks in the soil,” the coroner said, without looking up. “If I didn't know better, I'd say someone was lapping up the blood as this fellow bled to death."
If true, this was a departure from the previous murders, and it would help cement his theory that this was a copycat. He walked over. Vannah and the other ranger followed, a fact he knew only because her scent remained as strong as it had been when he'd stood beside her.
He squatted on the outside of the stone circle. This close to the body, the aroma of blood and death was all consuming.
"Where?” he said.
The coroner quickly pointed out several marks in the soil. He was right—it did look like lap marks. He glanced up at the kid with the camera. “Have you taken photos?"
The carrot-haired ranger nodded, his very demeanor one of fierce anticipation. First murder, Cade thought wryly, and wondered if the kid's exuberance would last any longer than the end of this case. It certainly hadn't with his first murder case.
But then, he'd been a still-wet-behind-the ears recruit into the IIS, not a mere ranger, and those murders were still the worst he'd ever seen. Until now.
"Are you ready to move the body yet?"
"Yes, sir. Just thought you'd prefer to be here when we did it."
At least the officials in this town seemed to be up with recommended procedures. He couldn't remember the amount of times he'd arrived at a crime scene only to find the body already bagged and hauled away. And while it was true that he usually couldn't spot anything more than the coroner would, he liked to be present when the body was first moved—just for that one time when he did spot something. “Thank you."
The old man nodded and carefully moved to one side of the victim. The kid raised the camera and took a shot. Heaven only knows why, but Cade could hardly berate him when he was trying to do the right thing.
The coroner shifted the victim's arm. Then he rolled the body over, carefully avoiding the flag that had been placed in the soil not too far away from the corpse's thigh. And there, on the victim's back, was another major difference to the original murders.
Because carved into the dead man's flesh were two words.