"Got it, Chief," Mike called as he disappeared from view.

Chapter Twenty-three.

Mary and Rosie entered the house to find the men seated around the table looking into Ian's laptop screen. They put their bags on the couch and walked into the kitchen.

"What's up?" Mary asked.

Bradley stood up and offered Mary his chair. "Take a look," he said, leaning over the chair once she sat down. "Timmy paid Maggie a visit this evening. He told her there was another boy in the park, a boy who had been camping with his family and disappeared."

Mary read the article. "So, Ronny Goodridge has been missing since May of 1991?" she asked. "And no one thought to link his disappearance to the other killings?"

"The other bodies were all local and found together on Emil's property," Mike said. "They just never put this one together with the others."

She sat back in her chair and looked up at Bradley. "Well, this certainly adds a new dimension to this case," she said, "and makes it a little more dangerous."

"Wait...why?" Ian asked.

"Because when I called Dixon today I told them I was researching a similar case," he said, shaking his head. "d.a.m.n, all I was doing was creating a reasonable excuse to speak with Emil."

"And now if the killer hears about your call, he might get spooked and run," Mike said.

Mary and Bradley nodded.

"We've got to get into Dixon right away," Bradley said. "I'll call the warden first thing. Mary can you take time off tomorrow morning?"

She nodded. "Sure, I can leave by 8:30, does that work for you?"

"What can we do to help?" Rosie asked.

Mary turned to Rosie and smiled. "I think you have enough on your plate," she said. "Remember you volunteered to put together a wedding in ten days?"

Rosie lifted her hands to her face. "Oh, my goodness, you're right," she said, as she reached out for Stanley's hand. "Come on, Stanley, I need to get home and start making lists."

"But I was winning," Stanley complained.

She leaned over, gave Stanley a thorough kiss and stepped back, lifting one eyebrow. "You were saying?" she asked.

He stood immediately, scattering poker chips around the table. "I was saying it was time I got you home, woman," he sputtered. "Excuse us, we got to get going."

Rosie winked at Mary and then slipped her arm through Stanley's. "Thank you, Stanley."

The rest of the group watched Stanley shuffle her out of the house in record time.

"He's got it bad," Mike said. "Real bad."

"Once again, I'm in debt to Rosie," Ian said. "I owed that old coot twenty bucks."

"He'll be back to collect," Mary said. "His memory is amazing."

"Well, d.a.m.n," Ian said.

"So, do any of you think Maggie is in danger?" Mary asked.

Ian shook his head. "No, Maggie knows not to talk to anyone about her ability," he said, and then he turned to look at Mike. "Besides, it looks like she has a real, live guardian angel now."

"Hey, she called and I answered, no big deal," he said.

"It was a big deal," Bradley said. "She was afraid and you went to her. Thank you."

Mike shrugged. "Hey, she's got all of us wrapped around her little finger. But, I get it. You're welcome."

Bradley looked back at the computer screen. "We still don't have any evidence to reopen the investigation."

"Oh, yes, I think we do," Mike said. "The reason Timmy went back to the lake today was to find his backpack. He stuffed it into a hollow in an old tree he and I used to use as a hiding place. The murderer evidently didn't know about it and left it there. That would prove he was at the lake, not at Emil's."

"It's been twenty years," Mary said. "Do you think it would still be there?"

Mike shrugged. "Well, it was a pretty deep hollow, it might be worse for wear, but there might be enough there to prove what we need."

"There's also the body of the wee lad," Ian said. "If we could find his body..."

Mike shook his head. "Timmy said the boy's body is in the lake and after twenty years..."

"We could recover skeletal remains," Bradley said, "but not much else."

Mary stood up, walked across the room to the window and stared into the darkness of the night for a moment, and then she turned back to the men at the table. "We have to a.s.sume this was the first murder," she said. "This was the turning point. Something set our perp off. Something happened, so he went from fantasizing to acting. So, we need to find out everything we can about this murder."

"Mike and I can go back to the park first thing in the morning," Ian said. "Mike can lead me to the tree and I'll take some photos. I'll let you two law enforcement professionals do any extraction of evidence. And then we'll see if we can track down the other boy."

"Ian, I'll be able to keep my cell phone with me, so call me if you have any evidence that will be useful when we speak with Emil," Bradley said.

"The only possible glitch in our plan...," Mike inserted, "is that Timmy tried to help Ronny by making him remember. He remembers the man and the lake. I'm not sure he's going to be willing to talk to any strangers, especially men."

"Could you bring Timmy with you?" Mary asked. "He could vouch for you."

"Yeah, good idea," Mike replied. "And he can remind me where the secret tree is. It's been a long time since I've been back to that park."

Chapter Twenty-four.

"I don't have a lot of time this morning," Mary said as she let herself into the gym.

Ernie appeared next to her. "What? You giving up on me?" he asked.

Shaking her head, she put down her gym bag and opened the cabinet containing the wraps. "No, I'm going to the prison in Dixon to interview an inmate," she explained.

"You talking about those little kids, the guy who did that?"

She nodded as she wound the cloth around her wrists and hands. "Yeah, we found another little boy who was murdered at the park. He might be the first one and his death doesn't match the other ones."

"So, this guy changes his system. His modus operandi, like you legal eagles call it," Ernie said. "It could happen."

She pulled the gloves on over the wraps and moved over to the punching bag. "Actually, what we look for is called a signature," she explained. "We've found that killers act out their fantasies in some manner."

"Yeah, like killing little kids," Ernie said.

"It's more than that, over and beyond killing their victim. They do something that represents their acting out of the crime," she said. "That unique aspect of the crime, whatever it is, is the signature. That's what we have to determine."

Ernie glided in front of her. "Okay, sister, like we practiced yesterday, elbows in, hands up."

She a.s.sumed the correct stance and shuffled on her feet, imitating a fighting stance.

"Hey, you look good," Ernie said. "Real good. Now, let's see what you're made of. I want you to circle the bag and throw some light punches. Straight jabs. Nothing fancy."

Mary slowly circled the bag, keeping light on her feet while she threw a series of short, light punches at the bag.

"Good, good," Ernie said. "But you're holding your breath when you throw your punch. You should exhale when you throw your punch."

"Why?" Mary asked. "Why can't I hold my breath, it makes more sense."

"Yeah, until your gasping for breath during a fight," Ernie said. "Besides, exhaling on the throw gives you more power."

Mary tried it and found, to her surprise, that it did give her more power. She turned and grinned at Ernie. "You're right."

"Listen, sister, I knew I was right," he said. "So don't act so surprised. Now, I'm going to teach you how to do some combo-moves."

"Cool," Mary responded, swinging her right arm up in a jab. "I'm ready."

"Hey, have you been practicing on me?" he asked.

She nodded, grinned and shuffled her feet. "Rocky Marathon last night."

"How the h.e.l.l does a flying squirrel help you fight?"

"A flying...," she paused. "When did you die?"

"July 4, 1970. Why?"

She sighed. "Never mind."

Chapter Twenty-five.

The sun was just peaking over the horizon when Ian pulled his car into the entrance of Lake Le-Aqua-Na. "So, which way do you want me to turn?" he asked Mike who was seated next to him.

Mike looked around for a moment. "Take a left," he said. "And follow the road past the beach entrance and then take the curve to the south side of the lake."

Ian drove slowly, aware that Midwestern cornfed white-tailed deer a.s.sumed they had the right of way, especially just as the sun was coming up. The park seemed to be deserted. Most campers, if they were hearty enough to venture out in the winter, camped on the weekends. And most of the park's local joggers found a less icy and snowy venue during the winter months.

"Okay, after you make this slight jog, slow down," Mike said as he stared out the side window. "Yeah, this is it. Pull over."

Ian pulled the car to the side of the road and put it into park. He looked around at the narrow park road. "This isn't the best place to leave a car," he said.

Mike shrugged. "Like anyone is going to be out here at this time in the morning."

Ian got out of the car and walked around it to meet Mike. The snow had melted and the path down to the lake was clear. "Careful, there are still icy spots," he warned Ian. "Don't want you falling in the lake."

"I've done a bit of backpacking," Ian replied. "I'm no stranger to rocky or icy terrain."

Mike shrugged. "Have it your way."

Ian stepped forward and unknowingly placed his weight on a patch of black ice. His foot slipped out from under him, but he was able to grab a tree trunk and keep himself from landing on the ground.

"I meant to do that," he said, glaring at Mike.

Mike chuckled. "Yeah, right. I believe that one, professor."

"Hey, Mike, I'm down here," Timmy called.

Timmy was down at the end of the path, near the lake. Ian could see the lake slapping up against the sh.o.r.e through his translucent body. They hurried down the path to meet him.

"So, do you remember?" Timmy asked Mike.

Mike looked around and studied the area. Finally, he shook his head. "Sorry, Timmy, I can't remember which tree had our hiding place."

Timmy laughed out loud. "You are such a dork," he said. "It's right next to you."