The annoying beeping made her groan. She launched her hand at her bedside, frantically trying to stop the sound that had woken her at this ungodly hour. When the sound didnât stop she swiped the object off the countertop in a rage, swatting her alarm clock to the ground. Only then did she realize it wasnât the clock, which didnât even have any batteries in it. It was her phone.
Regretfully she threw off the blankets and grabbed the hellish device that broke her slumber. Her eyes still adjusting to the darkness, she couldnât see, the bright light of her screen too much, squinting she still couldnât make out the name. She answered the devilish device.
âDetective Lankis?â A male voice on the other end asked as she pressed the phone to her ear.
âThis is she,â Shannara answered with a groggy tone.
âSorry to wake you at this hour, we were requested to call you if there was another... strange victim.â
She stiffened suddenly awake. So soon? âWhere?â
The voice on the other end gave their badge number and an address. Thankfully sheâd showered before bed, she dressed quickly and jumped into her rental to head out. It was only three am in the morning and her windscreen was still frosted over, the air chilly.
Stopping at a red light she tied her hair back in her usual bun as she munched on a bland piece of toast. It was going to be a long day, best to force something into her stomach now, than starve later.
It took her around 23 minutes to arrive at the address. Pulling up, she saw that a number of police cars had already arrived, the blinding lights of the vehicles blaring through the neighborhood, thankfully the sirens were off. Many neighbors were out on their porches, dressing gowns on, gawking at the scene. She took no time at all exiting her vehicle and retrieving her small scene kit from the back.
She walked past a sobbing woman, probably the roommate that had called it in. She would interview the woman once she had seen the victim.
âIs forensics here?â She asked the police officer standing guard at the door.
The man shook his head. âSeven mins out, called them right after you, as requested.â By his voice, she could tell this was the officer she had spoken to earlier.
There was only a small police force in town, they all knew her, but she was yet to memorize all the officers. She only knew the team she was working with.
âAnyone else entered?â She queried.
âMiss Kenard, myself and my partner.â He responded.
âMake sure samples are gathered from all three of you to match or rule out your DNA from the scene.â
âOf course.â He nodded stepping aside to let her into the house.
Before entering the home she slipped on a hair net, white disposal gloves and booties over her shoes. The forensics team would be fully suited up, but she need only make sure none of her own DNA contaminated the scene.
Entering the home it didnât seem anything was amiss, the hallway opened up to the living room on the left and continued to the kitchen further into the house. Beside the door on the inside sat a suitcase and a shoulder bag, luggage tags read âDanielle Kenardâ. From the entryway she spotted a small table with a handbag sitting on it, beside it a dish with keys.
Standing before the table she looked in the mirror hanging on the wall above the small piece of furniture, reflected in the image was a suspended body. It gently rocked from side to side as an eerie silence filled the air, only the light squeak sounded as the body strained against the fastenings.
This had been how Miss Kenard had found the body. Sheâd seen it in the mirror, fallen backward to the ground and scurried over to the wall behind her, eyes locked on the mirror. How could she tell this? The dust and dirt on the floor, being the entryway to the home, it was a high-traffic area where sand and dirt would often be brought in. There were defined marks on the ground, a human-sized form had slid along the surface moving and disturbing the un-swept floor.
Turning around she faced the living room, where the victim was suspended from the ceiling and her body in full view of the street. Or it would have been if the police hadnât covered the window from the other side with a drape. She was grateful they hadnât touched the inside curtains, they had clearly been opened and displayed on purpose. The fabric had been bunched together in several sections, then fanned out and pinned to the walls and roof. It was as though the dangling women were a part of a show, the curtains parted for her performance.
The victim had only been placed here very recently, the neighbors would have seen such a display from the outside. Had the killer not known of the housemate returning, or was this intentional? This crime scene was very fresh she released, but the victim, she had sadly been gone for quite some time.
Studying the body the skin was pale and yellowing in color. She frowned as the light in the house seemed to catch the girlâs skin making it glisten unnaturally. Her body appeared to be coated in what she guessed was wax. What made the scene so eerie was that the body was posed in an elegant manner, strung up like a marionette. It was beautiful in a sick and twisted kind of way. Her head was slightly tilted, her mouth agape, her eyes half closed and she looked like she was dancing, frozen in time.
Her hair had been styled in a bun with loose curls falling over her face. There was a tiara and what appeared like pearls dotted through the bun. She could see why they called her in for this one. It had the same feeling as the others. Deliberate and somewhat artistic in nature. This killer had an unusual eye, resulting in a strange obsession and it continually baffled her.
âGood morning, Detective Lankis.â A manâs voice she was familiar with sounded behind her. The forensics team had arrived and entered already fully suited up.
âMorning, though I wouldnât call it good.â She responded, stepping aside to let the three surround the body. The click of a camera snapping pictures sounded and she began to study and note down things of interest in the room âWhat do you think this one means?â Jessie asked. The forensic team had little to no say in how information was interpreted, they simply provided the facts. But they had made it quite clear that they preferred working with her over the police on this case. They seemed to be the only ones to agree with her on the fact that she believed this was the doings of one person.
The team consisted of two men and one woman, Jessie was the senior, he began marking out items to be documented and collected with numbers, but also handed a few to Shannara. Masie, who she had become quite close with, was in training. She was on camera duty today, snapping the pictures of each item that they marked. And Desmond was collecting evidence and bagging it once pictures had been taken.
âHavenât a clue yet, get her down and tell me what you find.â Shannara scanned the room for anything that looked out of place.
âYes maâam!â
She allowed the forensic scientists to do their work, documenting and recording evidence from the body and scene, while she continued to tag items of interest around the room. The staple gun on the couch, the yarn on the small coffee table, the small Egyptian statue on the window sill. They were all deliberately placed, but leaving behind the items that were used in the scene? Her teeth gritted, grinding together, she felt as though she were being mocked.
She glanced back at the body, the girl had been draped in long a flowing white cloth-like gown, the little porcelain piece on the window felt out of place. That had to be significant somehow, everything with this perpetrator was.
Jessie was laying down a plastic sheet, preparing for them to pull the body down, when the other male began to speak as he pulled out the womanâs ID from the bag on the table in the hall. âKayla Servena, 26 years old.â
âSo young,â Masie commented taking a photo of the driverâs license before it was placed back in the bag.
Shannara watched as Jessie brought in a step ladder then moved to very gently cut the lines that had been sewn into the victimâs body to suspend her. Metal shackles had been drilled in the support beams of the roof, acting as an anchor for the rope-like cords that strung her up.
âAll incisions appear to be post-mortem, clean and neat, as usual.â Jessie cut another cord. Masie and Desmond held the body in place so that it didnât swing and dangle widely as she was slowly removed from the ceiling. âThere appears to be several layers of wax...â He paused as something in her mouth caught his attention.
âWhat is it?â Shannara asked.
He cut the last of the strings holding the victim and joined the other two on the ground to help lay her down. The body stiff and rigid from the wax meant that it looked unnatural laying down on the plastic sheet, mannequin-like.
Shannara crouched down beside the form studying the frozen womanâs face.
Jessie frowned as he tried to open her mouth, the wax was too thick causing the body to be extremely solid. âThereâs something in her mouth...â Retrieving a pair of tweezers from his pack he proceeded to pry what seemed like a folded piece of paper from within.
Dusting off some stray wax from the surface he unfolded it, a small key with a number engraved on it fell out, landing on the sheet below. The note itself appeared to have writing on both sides. Though it was typed, it read;
Turning it over, it had an address written on the other side.
âThatâs a storage-type place.â Masie piped in, eyes wide. âMy mum used it to store granâs stuff after she died.â
Shannara wasnât sure what to make of it, this was starting to feel different from the previous victims. There was nothing like this left at the other scenes, this felt like she was being led somewhere. The objects of the victimâs darkest secrets had always been rather clear, this was almost cryptic.
They searched the rest of the house finding some interesting things in Kalyaâs room especially. Hidden in her wardrobe were several wads of cash. Her dairy was also tagged and bagged for processing.
Frustratingly it appeared as though the killer had once again left no trace. The house had no fingerprints other than the victims and the housemates. Although the victimâs body was well preserved due to the wax, there were no traces of any violence either. All they could hope was that the coroner found something. At this point, they didnât even have a cause of death.
Shannara signed out the key to the storage lot from Jessie and headed outside to question the witness.