“What is the importance of the wildflowers?” Captain Hale asked.
Ellie raised a finger. “Daffodils are what’s called a schizophrenic flower, which can either have the attributes of rebirth and resurrection or the negative connotations of vanity. It’s also considered the flower of the underworld.”
“So we’re dealing with a religious freak who’s into nature?” Bryce muttered.
Ellie shrugged. “Or one who has knowledge of nature’s symbolism and mythology. Its symbolism comes from the Greek legend of the youth Narcissus, who was admiring his own image in a pool of water and drowned. At the spot where he fell in, a flower emerged, giving it the attributes of love and sacrifice over vanity.”
“You seem to know a lot about this,” the sheriff said.
“Research,” Ellie said. “When the killer contacts you personally, you can’t waste time.” Her father had also taught her some about plants, flowers and trees in the forest, and she pushed away the pain that surfaced at the thought of him.
Another tense silence fell for a second.
“What about the dress color?” Heath asked. “It seems to vary. Monday is dressed in olive green, Tuesday in red.”
“That I don’t know,” Ellie admitted.
“I’ll have my people look into it,” Derrick offered. “If the clothing doesn’t belong to the victims, maybe we can pinpoint where he’s purchasing the dresses.”
Ellie’s mind turned to Shondra and she attached her photograph to the board. “At this point, we have reason to believe that he abducted Deputy Shondra Eastwood.” She filled them in on her phone call. “It’s Wednesday already, so he’s going to kill again.”
“A victim a day for a week,” Bryce said. “The Weekday Killer.”
Ellie hated to glorify this sicko with a name, but the press would name him if they didn’t. And that name reminded her of the urgency of the investigation.
She tilted her head toward Derrick. “Perhaps you can work on a profile of the perpetrator while Deputy Landrum looks for connections between the victims.”
Derrick tapped his notepad with his pen. “Already working on it.”
Bryce’s cell phone buzzed on his hip, and he glanced at it. “Hold on, I’ve got to take this.”
“Let’s take five,” Derrick said.
The captain excused himself for a minute, and Deputy Landrum turned back to his computer.
As Derrick made a phone call, Ellie remained silent, watching Bryce.
Just like him to storm in, assert himself, then expect everyone to wait on him. He stepped to the doorway and spoke in a hushed tone, his body tensing. When he glanced up at Ellie, his eyes flickered with wariness.
Ellie’s pulse jumped. Something was wrong.
A second later, Bryce hung up and stepped back into the room. “The protest at the courtroom turned violent. I have to go.”
Remembering the scene she’d witnessed on her way to the station, Ellie stood quickly. “Is my father all right?”
Bryce shrugged. “I don’t know yet. But I’ll keep you posted.”
“Maybe I should go,” Ellie murmured.
He shook his head. “No, stay away. You’ll only make things worse.”
Thirty-Four
Derrick struggled to control his temper at Bryce’s callous remark. He’d seen those damn protestors and understood their anger. God knows he detested Randall Reeves himself.
But group mentality could be dangerous––it was best that Ellie stayed away.
Captain Hale loped back in, and as everyone convened again, Ellie gestured to the whiteboard, indicating where the victims’ remains were found.
“Special Agent Fox, what can you tell us about the killer from the information we have so far?”
Admiration for Ellie’s ability to focus on the case stirred inside him, and he forced himself into analytical mode. Derrick eyed the details on the whiteboard and the photos of the crime scene, disturbed by the images. He was tempted to say the bastard was FIH—fucked in the head. But that much was obvious.
“I would say that our unsub is a male––he appears to have a hatred for women, given the manner he is posing them and almost punishing them for what he perceives as their sins. I would guess he’s probably early to mid-thirties. There’s a level of sophistication about the crime scenes that suggests this man has been around the block. He’s highly organized, intelligent, and methodical, which could be reflected in his job. He carefully chooses the locations where he disposes of the bodies and is meticulous in the details of how he poses them. He could be choosing the victims randomly, spontaneously, although the rhyme and the potential meaning of the victims you’ve noted indicates he’s researched them. It’s possible he meets them in person or online somehow.” He exhaled. “We’ll be able