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Chapter 1

Rick Mathies surveyed the crime scene with a sinking feeling. “Crime scene” seemed a mild description for what lay before him. This was not some run-of-the-mill homicide, two drunks knifing each other in a bar or a hunting “accident” as was expected in a place like Winstead. This was insanity.

Mathies watched Charlie Quinn, his deputy sheriff and acting crime scene tech, photograph the bodies of the victims. Quinn was a veteran of a NYPD crime scene unit who had moved to Winstead to “escape the horrors” of big city crime and to enjoy “semi-retirement” with a small town police force. Mathies doubted he was enjoying anything at the moment.

Mathies’ radio crackled to life. He heard the rather subdued voice of Ed Brandt, the deputy guarding the entrance to the property.

“Rick, the coroner is here.”

“He’s going to have wait just a few more minutes, Ed. Charlie is still processing the scene, and we don’t need any more bodies on the premises than we’ve already got.” Mathies winced inwardly at his own weak attempt at a joke.

“Any idea who they are?” Quinn asked Mathies as he knelt by his crime scene kit to retrieve more film. Quinn had only joined the department a few weeks before and was not yet familiar with all of Winstead’s citizens.

“Most of the Zoller family. Maxwell and Elizabeth and four of their five children. The eldest two kids, Michael and Erik, were probably home from college for spring break. The twins, Margaret and Emmaline, were taking a year off between college and high school to earn some extra money, but both must have had the day off. The youngest kid, Mark, is still in high school. He came home and found them like this.”

“Where is he now?”

“Hospital. Their neighbor, Al Plattner, found him running down the middle of Highway 8, and brought him to Good Samaritan. He had to be sedated.”

“Is there any chance that he...?”

Mathies glared at Quinn.

“Sorry, had to ask.”

Quinn gathered numbered markers from the kit and began walking the grid of the scene, stopping occasionally to place a marker nest to an item to take more photographs and record measurements. Mathies watched him work the scene, glad to have at least someone who could keep their head and do their job in this hellish situation.

Mathies’ radio crackled again.

“Rick, Dr. Tolliver would really like to get to the scene and perform the duties of his elected position.”

“Probably missing his tee-time,” muttered Mathies. “All right Ed, send him through. It should take him long to determine that these people are in fact deceased.”

As with most rural area coroners, Tolliver was an elected official, and had no background in forensic medicine. All that was required to become County Coroner is a medical degree and friends who were willing to put you on the ballot. The coroner’s primary role was issuing death certificates, and assuring that the person in question was entitled to one. Tolliver had no more interest forensic death investigation than the sheriff had in golf or country clubs. Personally, Mathies couldn’t stand the little prick.

“Do you think we should bring them down?” Quinn asked with a humorless smile.



What is it about a crime scene that makes everyone try to be a comedian? thought Mathies.

“No, I’m sure the completely competent Dr. Nelson Tolliver will manage just fine. He probably won’t even want to get that close.”

Mathies heard the coroner’s van pull into the driveway, followed by Tolliver’s Mercedes. He heard Tolliver giving curt instructions to someone, and almost smiled. He knew the coroner’s assistant, Jackie Talcott, who had worked 20 years worth of crime scenes and body pick-ups, would have plenty to say about those “instructions” after Tolliver had left. Where he could put those instructions, to be more precise.

Mathies heard Tolliver’s nasal voice more clearly as he made his way to the rear of the house.

“Why must these scenes be out in the middle of nowhere?”,Tolliver complained. “I have so much more important things to do than traveling out to the sticks for another worthless...” Tolliver stopped his rant as he caught sight of the bodies. He stared in mute horror at the scene before him. Jackie, who had been right behind Tolliver, almost ran right into him.

“What the hell...”

“Nelson...Jackie...” Mathies began.

Tolliver jumped, and then turned toward Mathies. “Rick! Why in the hell didn’t you tell me about this before...”

“It wasn’t exactly something we wanted going out over the public airwaves.”

“I...” Tolliver walked forward towards the closest victim, Michael Zoller, and stopped. “I...”

“Need a ladder?” asked Quinn.

Both Mathies and Jackie shot Quinn a dirty look.

“Show some respect”, muttered Jackie.

Tolliver looked at the surrounding woods, a look of panic growing on his face.

“Are...are you sure the person who did this isn’t still around? I mean, this... this is just...”

“We secured the scene as soon as we arrived, just as we’re supposed to do.”

“I...”

Suddenly Tolliver ran from the scene and out of sight. Sounds of retching came from the front yard.

“He lasted longer than I though he would”, remarked Quinn.

Tolliver staggered back.

“I’m sorry, I just...”

“I understand”, said Mathies. “Nothing prepares you for something like this...”

Jackie took a few steps towards the second body. She was paler than Mathies had ever seen her.

“We need to get them down”, she said in a low voice. “Jesus, who would do something like this?”

“I don’t know,” replied Mathies, “but I do know we need to work fast. Someone this crazy isn’t going to stop. We need to catch this bastard.”

Quinn’s hands shook as he picked up his evidence collection kit and began collecting the items he had tagged.

Mathies watched him and thought: Poor Quinn. I guess horrors aren’t confined to the big city after all.

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