I’ve never been so scared in my life. I still can’t believe I actually thought I was in the driver’s seat with John. I’m such an idiot. You warned me about getting overconfident. Did I really think just because he asked me about my tools and my work, because he told me about his dog, that I had any control over him? He has all the power, and do you know why he has the power? Because I’m terrified of him and he knows it.
The day after our last session another box was delivered. I knew I should wait until Sandy and Billy opened it, but I wanted to know if he’d sent me another tool, wondering for a moment why it mattered, then brushing off the thought. This box was smaller and lighter than the one the jack plane had arrived in. I gave it a little shake but didn’t hear anything. After I found some gloves, I carefully sliced open the package and lifted out a smaller box from inside. What if it was another victim’s jewelry? I debated for half a second about calling Billy, then lifted the lid off the box.
A small rustic metal doll, maybe four inches tall and a couple of inches wide at the shoulders, lay nestled in cotton batting. The body seemed to be made from some sort of dark, heavy metal, like iron or steel. Its arms and legs were thick and straight down like a toy soldier’s. The feet and hands were just round metal balls. It was wearing a little denim skirt and a yellow T-shirt. The clothes were delicate, the stitching intricate. The head of the doll was also a round ball of metal. But it had no face. No mouth or eyes.
Long straight brown hair, parted in the middle, was attached to the top of the head. Faint traces of glue were visible through the strands, but you had to look closely. Why had John sent this? I looked back in the main box to see if he’d included a note, but it was empty. I looked back at the doll again. Marveled at the clothes, the hair.
The hair.
I put the doll back in the box and called Billy. He and Sandy were at my house twenty minutes later — I was waiting in the driveway, pacing back and forth with Moose in my arms, when Billy stepped out of the driver’s side of the SUV.
“It’s in the kitchen,” I said.
“You okay?”
“I’m freaking out.”
“We’ll get it out of here as soon as possible.” He gave my shoulder a quick squeeze and scratched the top of Moose’s head.
Sandy’s first words as she exited the SUV were “I thought we agreed you would contact us the next time a package arrived.”
“I changed my mind.” I headed toward the house.
“Sara, this is an investigation.” She was following close on my heels as we reached the front steps.
“I know what it is.” I fought the urge to close the door in her face as I walked into the house.
“You could damage evidence.”
I spun around. “I wore gloves.”
“That still doesn’t—”
Billy said, “Come on, Sandy. Let’s have a look.” She brushed past and headed straight to the kitchen. Billy shook a scolding finger at me behind her back. I gave a couldn’t-help-it shrug. He smiled, then focused in on the box.
Sandy set a soft briefcase on the kitchen counter, took out some gloves, and handed Billy a pair. Their backs were to me as they examined the box. A minute crawled by, then Sandy lifted the smaller jewelry box out and gently took off the lid.
I said, “It’s real hair, isn’t it? Do you think it’s from one of the victims?”
Neither of them turned around. Sandy put up a hand. “Sshhh…”
If I didn’t already dislike her, that would have sealed the deal.
Finally, after a few moments that felt like hours, she murmured something to Billy. He nodded. Sandy slid the jewelry box into a plastic bag while Billy bagged the larger box.
Sandy turned and said, “We’re going to take this back to the station.”
“So the hair’s from one of the girls?”
“We won’t know anything conclusive until the lab runs some tests.” She walked past me with the evidence bag. “We’ll be in touch.” She stopped with her hand on the front door handle and frowned at Billy, who was still in the kitchen. “Let’s go, Billy.” “Right behind you.”
She gave him another look and went outside.
I turned to Billy. “What’s her problem?”
“She’s just frustrated because none of the leads are going anywhere.”
“You don’t seem frustrated.”
“I have moments, but I stay focused. I’m building the case brick by brick. If one falls out, I move on to the next. But I look for the right brick — if I shove them together without making sure each one fits, the structure’s going to collapse. Even after we catch John, there’s still a trial. That’s why it’s important to be patient.” He gave me a stern look. “We can’t risk losing trace evidence or contaminating it with a fiber from your clothes. One mistake and he gets away forever. Trust me, it’s happened.” “I get it. I shouldn’t have opened the box.”
He nodded. “I know you were careful and wore gloves, but it’s one of those department regulations we can’t get away from. Remember, I’m on your side. We both have the same goal — to put John behind bars. The right piece of evidence and we’ve got him.” “What about the boxes? Did anyone see him sending them?”
“A clerk in Prince George thought he remembered the person who shipped the first box, but his description was of a man with a dark beard and sunglasses with a baseball cap pulled low. He’s probably wearing a disguise. We’ll follow up on this package right away, but unless the depot has a camera, or someone saw his vehicle, we’re no further ahead.” “What about the jack plane — can’t you find out where he bought it?”
“We’ve notified any stores in the Interior that sell them, but there are literally hundreds.”
“That sucks, and I get that you guys are frustrated, but I wish Sandy would lose her attitude.”
“She’s formed friendships with a lot of the victims’ families, so every time he slips through our fingers she feels like she’s letting them down. Sandy releases her tension out loud. But that has nothing to do with you — you’re doing great. That call last night was perfect.” “I still don’t feel like I’m getting enough out of him.”
“Remember, brick by brick. Anything he reveals is more than we knew before. ‘Do not pursue an enemy feigning flight.’ If you pressure him too much, he could become suspicious.”
“I don’t know, maybe … Sometimes it feels like he’s a little off mentally, you know? Not just violent, but sort of disconnected from reality. He doesn’t seem worried at all.”
“He’s confident and arrogant. But that doesn’t make him any less dangerous. Remember that.” Outside a horn honked. Billy smiled. “I better go before she drives off and leaves me here.”
As I walked him to the door I said, “I was reading an article the other day about how some killers keep trophies and souvenirs. You said the jewelry is his souvenir, so what’s the doll?”
“That’s what we need to find out. But feel free to e-mail me any articles that trigger something for you — any questions too. Even if it’s just random notes. We’re used to viewing everything from our perspective, but you might have a fresh take.” “I’ll keep that in mind. I’ve been doing a lot of research. I don’t know if it’s helping me much, though. Just scares me, then I can’t sleep for hours.”
“Did you pick up a copy of The Art of War?”
“I keep forgetting. But I’ll try to get one this week.”
“It will help. I’m usually up late going over my notes or reviewing the file again, so feel free to call anytime you need to get something out of your head.” He held my gaze. “We’re going to catch him, Sara. I’m doing everything I can, okay?” “Thanks, Billy. I really needed to hear that.”
John called later that night. Thankfully Ally was already in bed, but I stayed downstairs to make sure she didn’t hear me.
“Did you get my gift?”
“It’s really nice, thanks. Did you make it?” As I thanked him, I realized it was the first time I’d done that.
“Yes.”
“The detail on it was incredible. How did you learn how to do that?”
“My mother taught me how to sew. She taught me how to work with leather too.”
“That’s really cool. She must have been a neat woman. You never told me what her background was.”
“Haida, from the Queen Charlotte Islands.”
“I’m part First Nations?”
His tone was proud now. “The Haida believe in passing their stories down through each generation, and now I can share mine with you. I’ve got some good hunting stories. I could write a book.” He chuckled. “Did you know a bear looks similar to a human when it’s skinned? The hands and feet especially. Except the feet are backwards, and the big toe is on the outside.” “No, I didn’t know that.” I didn’t want to know that. “Do you hunt bear?” I kept my tone interested while I tried to wrap my head around the fact that my grandmother was First Nations.
He said, “Moose, elk, bear.”
Remembering that Sandy told me to find out anything I could about his guns, I said, “Do you have a certain gun you like to use?”
“I have a couple, but my favorite is my Remington.223. I shot my first one when I was four.” He sounded pleased with himself. “Bagged my first deer when I was only five.”
“With your dad?”
“I’m a better shot than he was.” His voice turned serious. “And I’ll be a better father.” Before I could ask him what he meant he said, “What was your favorite ice cream when you were a kid?”
The rest of the phone call he asked more questions along those lines: What was my favorite soda? What kind of cookies, chocolate with peanut butter or plain? The questions were so rapid-fire I didn’t have a chance to think up lies. I was getting the feeling that he was a serious junk-food hound. But the only specific thing he revealed about himself was that he loved McDonald’s — Big Macs, mainly. I wondered if that little detail would make Sandy happy or if she’d just be frustrated she couldn’t stake out every McDonald’s herself.
We’d only been on the phone for ten minutes, but I was exhausted, drained from his questions and the effort to gauge his reaction to every answer. Forcing myself to sound polite so I didn’t lose any ground I’d just gained, I said, “John, it’s been great talking to you, but I really have to go to bed.” He sighed. “Get some rest, we’ll talk soon.”
Billy called a few minutes later to tell me John was traveling south on the Yellowhead Highway. They think he was in McBride, a small town between the Rockies and the Cariboo Mountains. The population is under a thousand, but no one noticed anyone who fit John’s description. The police were starting to wonder if he’d frequented these areas before. He might not be turning up on anyone’s radar as a stranger because they know him. Hoping he’d continue south on the same highway, they were making sure all gas stations, truck stops, and stores had his description. When we finally hung up I went straight to bed, but I didn’t sleep. I just stared at the ceiling, wondering if John was on the highway right now, if he was getting closer with every minute that ticked by.
The next day another box arrived. This time I called Sandy and Billy right away. I thought they’d just grab it and go, but they opened it with me there so if John called I’d know what was inside.
This doll was blond.
I wanted to cry at the silken curls, at the little polka-dot tank top and white shorts, wondering which woman’s hair it was, wondering if it had been her pride and joy.
They thought he’d sent the package from Prince George and were going to check all the depots in the area, but I already knew he was smart enough to wear a disguise. After Sandy and Billy left, I went upstairs and checked out the Campsite Killer’s Web site again. The pictures of his first victim showed a woman with black hair. Then I pulled up the photos of his next one. Suzanne Atkinson had straight brown hair — parted in the middle. His third, the woman he killed after Julia escaped, Heather Dawson, smiled broadly in her photo, her heart-shaped face framed by lustrous blond curls. She’d been proud of them.
She was last seen wearing a polka-dot blouse.
I called Billy right away. “You knew he took pieces of their clothing and hair.”
He was quiet for a moment, then said, “We knew, but we didn’t know what he did with them.”
“What else are you holding back?”
“We try to fill you in as much as possible without jeopardizing the investigation.”
“What about jeopardizing me? Shouldn’t I—”
“We’re protecting you, Sara. This is a man who can read people really well. The less you know, the better. If you inadvertently reveal something that only the police would know, we could lose him — or worse.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Like it or not, I could see some of the sense in what he was saying.
“I hate being left in the dark. Hate it.”
He laughed. “I don’t blame you one bit. I promise to tell you everything you need to know, when we know it. All right?”
“Can you tell me why he leaves their faces blank?”
“My guess is he’s depersonalizing them. Same reason he puts the victim’s shirt over her head — he can’t look them in the face.”
“That’s what I thought too. Do you think he feels shame?”
“If you ask him, he’d say yes. He’s a psychopath — he knows how to mimic emotions. But I don’t believe he truly feels them for one minute.”
John called again that night and I managed to thank him for the doll. But this time I said, “Can you tell me about the girl?”
“Why?” So he wasn’t going to deny it was from one of his victims.
“I don’t know, I just wondered about her. What she was like?”
“She had a pretty smile.” Her picture flashed in my mind. I thought of John touching her. I thought of her pretty mouth begging him to stop. I closed my eyes.
“Is that why you killed her?”
He didn’t answer. I held my breath.
After a moment he said, “I killed her because I had to. I told you, Sara. I’m not bad.”
“I know, but that’s why I don’t understand why you had to kill her.”
He sounded frustrated as he said, “I can’t tell you yet.”
“Can you tell me why you made a doll with her clothes? I’m really interested in your…” What should I call it? “In your process.”
“Then she stays with me longer.”
“And that’s important? That she stays with you?”
“It helps.”
“What does it help with?”
“It just helps, okay? We’ll talk more about it another time. Did you know pine beetles make blue wood?”
I didn’t get the feeling he changed the subject to avoid anything. More like another thought occurred to him so he went with it. I hated how much he reminded me of myself.
“I’ve read about it, but I’ve never worked with any of it.”
“It’s not the beetle that kills the trees, you know. It’s the fungus they carry.” He paused, but I didn’t know what to say and he went on. “I’ve been reading about different woods and tools so we can have things to talk about. I want to know everything about you.” I shuddered. “Me too. So what about you? Do you make things other than the dolls?”
“I like working with different materials.”
“But you’re obviously talented with metal. Are you a welder?”
“I can do lots of things.” It wasn’t a direct answer, so I was about to repeat the question when he said, “I have to get going, but I’ve got a question for you.”
“Okay. Sure.”
“What do you call a grizzly with no fur?”
“Um … I don’t know.”
“A bare bear!”
He’d called from Kamloops, one of the major cities in the Interior, and about five hours from his last location. But the fact that he was in a more populated area wasn’t working to our advantage — there was a three-day rodeo and he called from somewhere in the middle of it. Billy sounded confident when he told me they were searching the crowd, but I could read anger in his clipped tone, his short sentences.
John called three times the next morning. The first thing he asked was where the dolls were and what I was doing with them. His voice was tight, so I quickly said, “I made a special shelf in my shop for them — that’s where I spend most of my time.” “Okay, that’s good.” But then he said, “Are you sure they’re safe there? What about sawdust? Or chemicals? Do you work with chemicals?”
I grasped at the first thing that came to mind. “It’s a locked display case, so they’re protected by glass.” John didn’t say anything, but I heard traffic. I said, “Would you like them back? I understand if you—”
“No. I have to go.”
He called back twenty minutes later, asking again if I liked the dolls. Ten minutes after that he called again. His voice sounded more anxious with each call. Finally he said he had to go, he wasn’t feeling well.
I wasn’t feeling so great myself. I’d barely slept since he started sending me things. When I did, my dreams were haunted by screaming women being chased by metal figurines. I’d hoped to sleep in that morning because it was Saturday and I didn’t have to drive Ally to school, but no chance of that after John’s calls. Billy phoned right away to tell me the last couple of calls came from the outskirts of Kamloops and every available officer in the area was patrolling the roads. Ally and I fought all morning — I swear she senses when I’m at my least patient and picks that moment to drag her heels on everything. The more I tried to rush her, the more upset she got. She even grabbed my cell out of my hand and threw it across the living room. Thank God it just hit the couch. But I did mess up — I nearly forgot she had to go to a birthday party that afternoon, so we had to stop on the way there to grab a present.
Ally wanted Spider-Man walkie-talkies for the birthday boy, but the store was out and we didn’t have time to go to another one. I assured her Jake would like the science kit, feeling like the worst mother in the world when I saw how disappointed she was. After I came home from dropping Ally off, I planned on getting some work done. But then I got a call from Julia.
I didn’t recognize the number showing on the cordless, but the area code was Victoria and it could be a client.
The first words out of Julia’s mouth were, “Has he called you again?”
“Ah…” The police warned me not to tell anyone, but she was in the same boat as me. Didn’t she have a right to know?
“He has, yes.”
“He sent you my earrings — I had to identify them.”
I didn’t have a response, but I had a feeling she didn’t want one.
She said, “Has he said anything about me?”
John’s voice rang in my head. I saw Julia’s photo in the paper.
“Nothing.”
“I want to move, but Katharine thinks we should stay. I can’t sleep.” Her tone was bitter. Blaming.
“They’re going to catch him—”
“That’s what Sandy says, but I’ve been told that so many times.…”
“You’ve talked to Sandy?”
“The police keep me updated.” How nice. “I have to go.”
“Do you want me to call you if…” If what?
But she’d already hung up, leaving me wondering why she’d phoned in the first place. Then I wondered if even she knew why.
I dialed Sandy’s cell and as soon as she answered said, “I just talked to Julia.”
“Did you call her again?”
Why did she assume I’d called Julia, not the other way around? My face was hot.
“She called me.”
“I hope you didn’t discuss the case with her?”
“She asked if he called again and I said yes. That’s it.”
“Sara, you have to be careful with—”
“She already knew he’d call and she knows he sent me her earrings. If I denied everything she would’ve wondered more. She said you’ve been filling her in yourself anyway.”
Sandy didn’t say anything, so I jumped in with my own questions.
“What have you found out about the dolls? It’s the victims’ hair, isn’t it?”
“We’re still waiting for the DNA results.”
“Have you notified their families?”
“Not at this point. We need to be careful how we approach this — they don’t know the Campsite Killer is in contact with someone.”
“After all those calls today, please tell me you have a lead.”
“Not yet.” Her voice was curt. “The calls were getting closer to Cache Creek, moving west of Kamloops. There are a lot of provincial parks in the area, so he’s probably traveling on back roads.”
“Maybe he’s heading back up north?”
“Try not to speculate, Sara.” Her schoolteacher tone was bugging the crap out of me.
“Isn’t that what police work is?”
I was proud of my comeback until she said, “No, it’s a careful analysis of data and facts, then the drawing of a conclusion based on hard evidence.”
“Well, then. Are there any facts or data that might give us an idea of what he does for a living? He seems to be on the road a lot, so I was thinking he could be a truck driver or a deliveryman or—” “All possibilities. I’m about to step into a meeting now. Can I have Billy call you back so you can discuss it further with him?”
“No, I’m fine.” I hung up the phone, frowning. What did I ever do to that woman?
I worked in the shop until it was time to pick up Ally. I was still trying to finish the cherry lamp table, but my heart wasn’t in it. It didn’t help that John’s comment about “rich tones” kept flickering through my brain. Of course he liked the wood — it probably reminded him of blood. I shuddered at the macabre thought. I was used to being away from Evan for long stretches of time, especially during the summer, but it was never easy. Today I missed him terribly and wished I could call him, but he was out on the boat all day.
We’d been talking every night — we had a long call after I found out I was part First Nations. Evan thought it was great. But it was weird knowing Sandy or Billy, or whoever else, could listen whenever they wanted. It was also hard when Lauren and I talked on the phone because she’d say something personal and I knew she was being taped but she didn’t. I usually tried to stick to the subject of our kids or the wedding. But not telling her what was really going on was killing me.
We’d finally made plans to go dress-shopping on Sunday. We were all going to meet at my house in the morning and drive to Victoria in my truck. Lauren was already baking something and I knew she’d have a thermos of coffee. Melanie, well, I was sure she’d bring her attitude. I was hoping like crazy this would be one of the days I didn’t hear from John.
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly and I picked up Ally, who was so burned out she fell into bed after her bath. When I tucked her in she informed me Jake already had two science kits. I felt so bad I told her I’d take some of her friends to a matinee soon, but she said, “You’ll just forget, Mommy.” I swore I wouldn’t, my heart breaking that she doubted me. When I kissed her good night and whispered that I loved her, she didn’t say it back. I told myself she was just tired. Evan called later and we managed to have a nice talk right up until I heard my cell ring.
“Hang on a sec, baby.” I checked the display. “It’s John.”
“Call me back.”
I picked up the cell. “Hello?”
“Sara…” There was a long pause.
I said, “You still there?”
“Did you like the dolls?” He slurred the last words and I wondered if he’d been drinking. In the background I heard traffic.
“Are you driving?”
“I asked you a question.”
It was a phrase my dad used often when I was growing up, guaranteed to make me not want to answer at all, but I said, “Yeah, I like them. I told you that.”
“I wasn’t sure … wasn’t sure you would.” The slurring again.
What do I do with this? I waited him out.
“This is how it should be. Father and daughter … talking.”
“For sure.”
All I heard was breathing.
I said, “It meant a lot to me when you sent the dolls. I know they’re important to you.” I paused, but he was still quiet. “And I like talking to you. You’re an interesting guy.” It killed me to let him believe I liked anything about him.
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely. You have some great stories.”
“Remind me to tell you about the time … I killed a bear with just my.22—only took one shot. Sucker had been tracking me.… Did you know grizzlies will track and kill other bears?”
I was about to answer when a car honked on his end.
“We’ll talk more soon.” He hung up.
I called Evan back and told him what had just happened.
“That’s weird.”
“No kidding. I’m going to Victoria with the girls tomorrow and I don’t know what I’m going to do if he calls.”
“Treat him like you would a normal person — tell him you’re busy.”
“But he’s not a normal person.”
“Let’s talk about something else. How was Ally’s birthday party today?”
“We almost missed it because John called three times this morning — it was awful. And I forgot Jake’s birthday party so we had to get a present on the way there. Ally was so upset.”
“Poor Ally. She feels neglected.”
“Excuse me? Are you saying I’m neglecting my daughter?”
“I didn’t mean it like how you’re about to take it. Let’s not go there.”
“You already took it there, Evan. I feel bad enough without you getting on my case too.”
“I’m sorry I said anything. I know you’re having a hard time.”
We were both silent for a moment. I imagined Sandy in a room somewhere, headphones on, listening to my relationship problems, smiling that condescending smile.
I said, “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me—”
“I am.”
“I know, but I can take care of myself.”
He laughed.
“Hey! I’ve managed just fine for years.”
His voice teased, “Just admit you were a mess before you fell in love with me.” This time I laughed, not even caring if Sandy was listening.
The next morning the girls arrived around nine-thirty, just after I dropped Ally off at Meghan’s. We took my Cherokee and Lauren brought fresh-baked scones and a thermos full of coffee. The drive down was fun, with everyone talking at once and Lauren cracking runaway bride jokes. Melanie was even in a good mood, although we had a close call when she asked to use my cell phone because she’d forgotten hers. When I hesitated she kept looking at me, so I grabbed it out of my purse and handed it over. I was terrified John would call while she was on the phone, but she just made a quick call to Kyle.
The morning flew by as we hit the downtown boutiques. We were planning to have an outdoor wedding, so Evan and I were trying to stick with a natural theme. We found a bridesmaid dress that was perfect. It was this strapless tea-length chiffon in a gorgeous silvery green, almost a sage, like the flat side of fir needles, and it looked great on both girls. After we ordered the dresses we had a late lunch at an Irish pub overlooking the inner harbor. It was nice to have a day when I could just laugh and talk about familiar, everyday things. Normal things. But I forgot my life was anything but normal.
After the girls came back to my place and got their vehicles, I picked up Ally. As soon as we walked into the house I dug my cell phone out of my purse to put it on the charger.
Twenty missed calls.
I scrolled through the list of numbers. They were all from John and Billy. I checked my voice mail, but there was just one message from Billy to call him ASAP, then five hang-ups. Why hadn’t I heard it ring?
I grabbed the cordless and called my cell. It vibrated in my hand. On its side there’s a button that changes it from ring to vibrate, but I hadn’t touched my cell since that morning. It must have gotten bumped in my purse when I dropped my wallet back in.
I called John right away, but his cell was off. Then I phoned Billy and got his voice mail. I left a message.
For the next hour I paced around my house, glancing at the phone, willing it to ring, worried about why Billy hadn’t called back yet, and all the while struggling to stay calm so Ally didn’t sense something was wrong. Finally, just after I put her to bed, John called.
As soon as I picked up I said, “I’m so sorry I missed your calls. The phone was set on vibrate and I didn’t know—”
“You ignored me.”
“That’s what I’m trying to explain. I didn’t ignore you, the phone was in my purse and I didn’t know it was on vibrate. It was in the very bottom — you wouldn’t believe the junk I have in there — and there was a lot of noise around me.” Not a lie. Three excited women do make quite a racket.
I paused and held my breath.
“I don’t believe you, Sara. You’re lying.”
“I’m not. I swear. I wouldn’t do that to—”
But he’d already hung up.
And that’s where it’s still at. My next call was from Billy, who was as close to pissed off as I’ve ever heard him sound.
“How did this happen, Sara?”
After we spoke for a minute or two his tone changed and he said I shouldn’t beat myself up — it was an accident. I’m pretty sure Sandy didn’t agree, though. She called as soon as I hung up from Billy, asking the same question. I told her I hadn’t ignored John on purpose and I think she believed me, eventually, but I could tell she was still angry. She said John’s cell had pinged off towers in Kamloops each time it connected with my phone, but he’d been staying in high-traffic areas. They pulled over a bunch of vehicles, running checks on anyone who looked suspicious, but they still didn’t have a suspect.
Sandy told me they’d have a patrol car parked outside, just in case John decided to hop on a ferry and talk to me in person. When I asked if she actually thought he’d do anything, she said, in her tense voice, “We’ll find out soon, but if he is stupid enough to try something, we’ll get him.” But I haven’t heard from John since. Not once. I wish I could be happy about that.