Protect and Correct by Breanna Hayse Page B

making contact without holding her down.
    “Not a nightmare,” she cried out, “it is real! Our faces… The men, he took their balls…”
    “Come back to me… Look at me. I’m here. It is three in the morning, and you are in my house in Stockton Springs, Maine. It is April. You are under my protection as Brooke Doyle, my wife. Take it in… come back to the present.”
    “Collin?”
    “You’re okay now,” he pulled her onto his lap and captured her in the shelter of his arms. “Talk to me while it’s fresh.”
    “I’m sorrrrry,” she cried into his shoulder. “I looked on your computer and saw them… me. He put fishhooks in our mouths! Why?”
    Collin stiffened. “You broke into my private files? How?”
    “I’m a great hacker. It was stupid of me. I should have listened to you. Please, don’t be angry. I need you right now.”
    “I am not going anywhere. Damn it, Brooke…”
    “Hold me,” she whimpered, clinging to him. “I can’t erase those images.”
    “We will talk about what you saw in the morning. Are you okay to sleep?”
    “Don’t leave me. Stay here.”
    “I am not budging. You are safe with me, pipsqueak.”
    “I need to tell you what I saw and the clues he left,” she sobbed.
    She told him that when she had come out of the bathroom and saw him snoring quietly on one side of the mattress, she also noticed the hand gun on the floor near his head. It was then that she hacked into his laptop.
    As Collin had said, each murder had occurred on the third Wednesday of the month. The crime occurred in different Eastern states at different intervals, confirming her suspicion that the killer was being selective in his choice of victims and willing to exercise patience so he could catch them unaware. He had also chosen locations fairly close to a source of deep, living water—the ocean, a harbor, large lake, or river.
    She had been correct when she had raised the question about the victims having a common involvement in a criminal case. They were all present at one time or another during the Gardenia Killer’s trial or execution, indicating that the perpetrator had either been present or had access to records that allowed him to pick and choose. She had been an expert witness, but the others were less involved. Several had served on the jury panel, one was an ex-bailiff, and two others were minor reporters for different agencies. All the victims were unattached and without anyone who would notice their immediate absence. Either way, the pattern had emerged, directing them, daring them to find the killer.
    Brooke paused in her recitation as she struggled to maintain her focus. She had discovered a major glitch. This was not the same person as the one she had sent to death row. The original Gardenia killer had been named because he had placed a gardenia blossom in the empty cavity which once contained the victim’s heart. He had killed directly and had not relied on the elements to finish his work. This suspect used a burlap root bag to restrain his barely-living victims before throwing them into moving water. There were no flowers left as calling cards, either. He left only the bodies… bodies he had obviously wanted to be found.
    Collin allowed Brooke to clutch his hand as she continued to verbally process her findings. She had seen the photographs of her own body and knew that the river’s current had hastened unexpectedly and brought her to the surface before she drowned. She had been life-flighted and placed under guard due to the likelihood the killer witnessed the unexpected rescue. Investigation of the area revealed large footprints made by a man’s boot, as well as findings of broken twigs and brush, suggesting the perpetrator to be fairly tall and of normal width. There was no blood, no vehicles, and no tire marks. These clues were consistent with the possibility that the butcher had taken a boat upriver, did his business once he arrived, and then hid in one of the myriads of