“Why a church?” She faced her partner. “He’s always left the victims at the Anacostia Park.”
Asher glanced over at her. “I wish I knew. Nothing about this new Van Gogh makes sense.”
She agreed. Most serial killers kept to a certain pattern, but this guy wasn’t playing according to normal.
She and Asher made the rest of the trip in silence. Olivia had worked the Van Gogh case since she’d been assigned to the task force, but she was not part of the original investigators like Asher and Declan.
Still, Olivia had done her homework. The Van Gogh Killers had claimed five lives that they knew of before they took Lizzy Grayson. She was the only victim to date to survive. Was it because Edward Buckley realized she was his granddaughter?
She’d read Buckley’s file after Lizzy identified him as part of the two-man team of serial killers. The man was a sociopath who had killed his wife in cold blood. He’d been sent to prison for the murder, leaving his son and daughter to be raised by family members. And it was that son—Martin Collins—who had orchestrated Buckley’s escape from prison where he’d been on the run ever since.
Olivia’s belief was that Buckley had more body counts associated with his name than the five victims assigned to Van Gogh. So far, there was little background on Edward Buckley’s childhood. Was it something buried in his childhood, a fascination with Van Gogh’s work that made Buckley choose Starry Night as one of his calling cards? Then there was the strange fetish of cutting off the victim’s lower part of the left ear and sending it to the FBI. It spoke of a twisted fascination with the Dutch artist.
So far, there had been no trophy sent to the Bureau. Declan and Luke hadn’t found the usual Starry Night at Sylvia’s apartment or the Polaroid showing a bound Sylvia like the previous victims. Instead, the killer had chosen to contact Lizzy. But there had been no Starry Night photo. Unfortunately, she and Asher hadn’t been able to tell the director about the connection to Lizzy because of Holden’s unknown agenda. Olivia sure hoped it didn’t come back to haunt them both because if it did, they’d end up without a job or worse, in jail for treason.
Asher slowed the vehicle and turned into the parking lot of the white church with a steeple that took Olivia back in time to when she was a kid.
Growing up, she’d attended a little church like this one with her grandmother in a small town not too far from here. Back then, everything was perfect. She’d had an almost idyllic childhood. Then, she’d grown up and met Sawyer. They’d become engaged. She’d imagined getting married in her grandmother’s church one day. But that hadn’t happened. Sawyer had joined the marines and had been sent to Afghanistan. Two years later, he was dead.
Olivia pulled in several breaths. That was three years ago, and yet she still remembered getting the news as if it were days earlier. She glanced to the man who was Sawyer’s older brother. Asher had been her rock. She couldn’t imagine her life without him in it.
The amount of police vehicles parked in front of the church sanctuary stood in stark contrast to the simple building with stained glass windows and steeple shooting up into the cloudy skies.
Asher parked away from the activity and shifted her way. “Are you okay?” He always had a way of knowing when something was bothering her.
“I’m fine,” she said and slid out before he could ask another question.
She and Asher waited silently by their vehicle until Declan and Luke arrived.
The group headed up to the police activity. Asher showed his credentials to one of the officers standing guard near the police tape.
The officer studied the credentials for a long moment before nodding. “She’s inside at the altar. The pastor is in the annex next door. Do you want to speak to him first before you see the body?”
“Let’s see the victim first.” Olivia wanted to know what they were dealing with because she had a feeling the torment Van Gogh had put her through was going to be different than the previous victims.
The officer raised the tape to allow them to come up the steps. He opened the door and stood aside as they entered.
Olivia paused long enough to take in the scene before her. Police officers were stationed all around the inside of the church. Half a dozen gathered at the altar near where the woman’s body was draped across several steps.
Olivia turned to Luke. “What’s the ETA on our Evidence Response Team?”
Luke pulled out his phone. “I’ll check.” He stepped away.
Olivia and Asher started up the center aisle side by side.
“This one is different,” Olivia whispered because despite the fact that this wasn’t a church service and they were investigating a homicide, the sacredness seemed to warrant respectful quiet.
“Yeah, I have a feeling this guy is going to change everything. He seems to be on a mission to rewrite the history for the Van Gogh Killer completely.”
Olivia thought the same thing. “It’s like he’s shedding the trappings of everything that defined Van Gogh in the past. He’s forging his own path.”
Asher looked behind them. “Yeah, and we’re going to have a hard time convincing Holden this is the same killer when his main focus is on bringing down Strike Force no matter the cost.”
Olivia’s misgivings rose. “You think he’ll want to sweep this under the carpet?”
“Without a doubt. He’s trying to use what’s happening with the killer to force Lizzy and Will out of hiding. . . or somehow blame them for the crimes.”
Olivia shot him a look. “We can’t let that happen.” An uneasy feeling settled over her as they reached the front of the church.
The two detectives spotted them and came over. They’d been called out to investigate the homicide until they’d discovered something that made them suspicious they were dealing with the serial killer.
“Jeff Stanley,” one of the detectives introduced himself. “This is my partner, Tim Mahoney.”
Olivia shook both men’s hands. “How did you connect this to Van Gogh?”
Stanley pointed to something clutched in the victim’s hand. “Starry Night. His signature, right?”
Olivia saw the photo clutched tight. Another twist from the killer.
“As soon as I saw the photo, we stopped what we were doing and called your team.”
“We appreciate it.” She and Asher moved to the lifeless body of Sylvia Abbott. Sightless eyes stared up at the ceiling of the church, the horror and damage to her face branded in Olivia’s mind forever.
The killer had gone to town on Sylvia. The violence that was expressed here was much greater than in the past. Before, it had almost seemed to be calculated incisions. Enough to make sure the victim suffered but not enough to kill her until they were ready. But this, this was something that went beyond what a human could inflict on another. “He did a number on her.” She knelt beside Asher. One thing in particular caught her attention. Her ear was still intact, which would explain why they hadn’t received the trophy.
Olivia said a prayer for Sylvia’s family. She pointed to her face. “Jaw was broken.” It appeared as if most of the bones in her face were crushed. There were bruises on her neck that seemed to indicate the killer had strangled her at some point. No human being deserved this kind of brutality.