“The FBI thing, I’m going to have to sleep on. But the press conference will be called for ten tomorrow morning,” Daley told them. “I’m inviting you all to attend, if you have a mind to.”

“Might be a good idea.” Meyer nodded. “A show of force. Of solidarity.”

“Make everyone aware there could be a problem, this guy could be out there. Urge everyone to be particularly careful until we catch this killer,” Gillespie added. “Let them know we’re all working together to find him.”

“And if he’s watching, let him know that he’s got to deal with all of us now,” Daley noted. “That every police officer in this part of the bay is looking for him. Send him a message.”

Beck glanced around the table at the concerned faces, and knew they were all thinking the same thing.

Looking for this guy was one thing. Finding him was going to be something else.

5

The Wednesday morning press conference was winding down. Chief Warren Daley was still at the front of the small room, no podium being available in Ballard. The chiefs of police from the four neighboring departments were seated on folding chairs in the first row, presenting a united show of force against the threat that hung over their small communities.

“Chief Daley.” Carl Patterson from the Bay Chronicle, standing in the midst of the small group of reporters, raised his hand. “You said the victim suffocated. Can you be more specific? Was she strangled?”

“I’m not going to go into that much detail right now, Carl. The ME still has to issue her final report, so we’re just going from the preliminary. And we have to protect the privacy of the family. Until the ME has released her complete findings, I’d rather not put words in her mouth.”

“Chief, the rumor that’s going around is that the victim was found on her own front porch, all wrapped up in some kind of plastic wrap.” Rosalie Ahern from the local morning news show stood against the wall on the left side of the room, which suddenly came alive.

“Hold on, now.” Warren Daley’s face flushed dark pink and he grabbed on to the microphone. “Hold on-”

“Is that true?” asked Jenna Smith from ChesapeakeWeekly. “The victim was wrapped in plastic?”

“Look, I don’t know where that story came from-” Daley began but was cut off by the reporter.

“It came from an unnamed source who was at the scene,” Ahern said as the camera lights came back on, after having been turned off a few minutes earlier when it appeared the press conference was going to be more of the same old thing.

Daley was clearly flustered, unsure of what to say. He definitely had not planned on disclosing this information, and every reporter in the room, all six of them, sensed it.

Which meant, of course, that it was true.

The room exploded. Daley did his best to calm them all down.

“Chief? Are you going to comment?” Jenna Smith asked.

“I really hadn’t wanted to get into this, out of respect for the family. While this is a sensational story for all of you, you need to remember that Colleen Preston was a very real young woman with a grieving family. I want to respect their period of mourning. But that cat being out of the bag now, I can’t very well shove it back in, unless I stand up here and lie. And any of you who know me, know that’s not my style. So I’ll tell you what I know, but I won’t speculate beyond that.”

Warren Daley took a deep breath. “At ten forty-five on Sunday evening, Colleen Preston’s body was found on the front porch of her family home. She’d been totally encased in plastic and suffocation has been ruled the cause of death.” He swallowed hard. “As you know, Miss Preston had been missing since the twenty-sixth day of June.”

“Did the killer have her all this time?” someone asked.

“We believe that he did.” Daley nodded.

“Do you know where she was kept for the past two weeks?” another voice asked.

“No clue.” Daley shook his head from side to side.

“Any suspects?”

“We have no suspects, no.”

“Chief, there was another woman recently, over in Cameron-”

“Yes, Mindy Kenneher,” Daley supplied the name.

“She’s been missing for longer than Colleen Preston was. Do the police think she was taken by the same person who killed Colleen Preston?”

Daley turned to Chief Meyer. “You want to take this one, Rich?”

Chief Meyer stood and turned to face the reporters. The camera was still on.

“Right now, we have no information as to the whereabouts of Mindy Kenneher. We have no reason to assume she met the same fate as Miss Preston. That case is still under investigation and we’re not going to speculate. When we know something, you’ll know something.”

He returned to his seat and gestured for Daley to resume control of the conference.

“But isn’t this type of thing…wrapping up the victim…isn’t that the type of thing a serial killer does?” Jenna Smith’s pretty face crinkled into a frown. “I mean, your normal killer doesn’t wrap up his victim, right?”

“Jenna, you watch too much TV,” Daley scolded. “Let’s not be irresponsible and start tossing around words like that. Right now, we have one victim. Why did the killer wrap her up like that? Maybe he thought it would make it easier-neater-to dispose of the body. Let’s not read anything more into this, all right? We have no reason to believe that whoever it was is going to do this again.”

“Then why are they”-Jenna pointed to the other chiefs-“here? Why are the heads of five police departments here if you don’t think there’s a threat?”

“I’ll take this one, Warren.” Beck stepped forward. “Yes, we all recognize the uniqueness of this killing. But we’re here because each of us has pledged to work together with Chief Daley until Colleen Preston’s killer has been apprehended.”

“Are you thinking the killer is someone local, Chief Beck?”

“That’s certainly a possibility. He did know where to take the victim’s body.” Someone started to ask another question, but Beck held up his hand to hold it off. “Then again, he could have seen her address on her driver’s license and gone straight to MapQuest. The point is we don’t know anything about the killer except that he’s a sadistic SOB. As Chief Daley said, this is an ongoing investigation, and it will continue until the killer is caught. The St. Dennis police department is ready to give whatever assistance Chief Daley wants or needs.”

“So what you’re saying is, the small towns in this part of the bay have banded together to track down the killer.”

“You could say that.”

“You think you’ll find him before he strikes again?”

“We’ll do our best. But since we have no reason to believe he’s going to strike again, I think you should be very careful in how you present this story.” Beck scanned the scene. The few reporters who’d shown up expecting little from their assignment had been handed a plum. Everyone’s eyes seemed to glow with the prospect of covering a sensational murder-maybe more than one. He could feel their excitement and knew they couldn’t wait to get the story out there. If they caused an unnecessary panic, well, that would give the story legs. Good for them, hell for everyone else. “Be responsible, okay? Don’t be careless with your words.”

“Chief Beck, I was at the Harbor Festival in St. Dennis over the weekend,” Rosalie Ahearn said as she fished around in her tote bag for something. She pulled out a brochure of some kind and opened it. “It looks as if you have a lot of activities planned to bring tourists in over the summer, lots of special weekend festivals and attractions to keep people coming back.”

“The Chamber of Commerce has been very busy.” He nodded. “The town’s reputation has really started to spread over the past few years. There’s a lot there for people to see and do, lots of shopping, good places to eat. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”