2. Murder

"It's not too bad in my opinion." The guy at the impound lot pointed at Bella's truck as we walked up. "The engine, tires, and frame are fine. Looks like it was just a fender bender."

Looking at the damage it was true; from a distance the thing barely looked scratched. Up close near the back left corner, however, was a new dent on the bumper just large enough to cause minor concern. "I need to get that fixed," I said gesturing toward the back bumper.

He crouched down to get a better look. "Yeah," he said. "Good thing it's so old. Replacing parts on it shouldn't run you too much money. Not like the kid with the van."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh yeah, the van that came in with your Chevy is broken up pretty bad. The passenger side has a huge dent in it. That kid's lucky he wasn't on that side of the car, he could've got killed."

Killed? From a little fender-bender like this? "Let me see the van."

"You're not the owner."

"No. But I'm the Chief of Police. Consider it official police business."

"You got me there, Charlie." He stood up and turned me around, pointing to the van parked across from Bella's truck. "It's right there."

My breath caught right in my throat. Tyler's van was wrecked. The passenger side doors were dented in an unnatural shape where it must have impacted. The windows were shattered, the glass probably littering the parking lot at Forks High School. I pulled the flashlight from my utility belt and looked inside the absent windows and got a view of the ripped polyester cushioning that covered the floor. The leather on the seats had split open and the contents had spilled out.

"What the hell?" I turned back to the man. "These two vehicles were in a collision? With each other?"

He shrugged, "Hey man I wasn't there, but that's the story they gave the tow trucks. Anyway you know how sturdy these old cars can be."

"And you believe that! It looks like this van got wrapped around a pole. My daughter's truck is barely scratched." There's sturdy and then there's indestructible.

"Like I said I wasn't there. But we got multiple reports from different faculty and students that back up the claims if you're worried about the insurance company trying to challenge it."

That was the farthest thing from my mind. What I wanted to know was how such a large, deep indentation could be made in the side of Tyler's van. From the size, shape, and location of the dent there was no way in hell it had been made by the tiny ding left on the corner of Bella's bumper. And it wasn't made by Bella either since she was perfectly unharmed.

What the hell could it have hit?

"Do you have a tape measure?" I asked him as I clipped my flashlight back to my belt.

"Yeah, hold on." He excused himself for a few moments to the office before coming back with a carefully rolled up plastic tape measure.

He handed it to me and I went about measuring the width of the dent on the side of Tyler's van. Then I measured the distance between the dent and the ground. I did the same with Bella's truck.

The math didn't add up. Even if Bella's truck were strong even to keep its frame after the impact with the van, the distance between the damage and the ground on each vehicle was off by over five inches. If they hit each other like the reports say then the damage to Bella's truck should be far larger than just the end of the bumper. It should extend upward into the bed of the pick-up.

That doesn't even explain the depth of the dent on the van. A collision like this should have left a shallower indention. None of this added up.

I gave the tape measure back just in time for my phone to ring, "This is Chief Swan."

"Hi. Chief Swan this is Doctor Kelly with the Port Angeles Coroner's Office. You asked me to call if I learned anything new about the body."

"Yes, hello. I was meaning to give you a call anyway about the newest body found." I paused for a moment. "It was like the others wasn't it?"

"Yes it was," she was more solemn than the last time we spoke. "The body had the same type of lacerations and bruising as the other bodies. Same puncture wounds. More teeth marks than last time."

She remained quiet for a moment so I went ahead and asked the question, "Animal?"

"Human."

"You're sure?"

"Chief Swan, I'm positive. This isn't an animal attack, this was made to look like an animal attack."

"A serial killer? Jesus."

"There's more."

"Is it worse than news of a serial killer?"

"I didn't have time to go into details when you were here since you had to leave so suddenly, but in light of the newest body it needs to be said. I've discovered the cause of death."

"What is it?"

"At first I assumed it was the blow to the head. Each body's skull was either heavily fractured or shattered. But then I measured the volume of the bodies remaining content and every time, like clockwork, they've been drained of over fifty percent of their fluid content."

"I'm sorry I don't understand."

"Chief Swan, these people are dying from extreme hemorrhaging. I can't find most of the blood." I could hear her voice shaking on over the phone. "I...I've never seen anything like this before."

"Neither have I."

"...And there's more."

"More?"

"I took a sample from under one of the victim's fingernails. It usually takes a little bit longer for the results to come back but in these circumstances I thought it better to rush the order."

"Yes."

"There was what appeared to be human skin cells trapped under their fingernails. They didn't match the victim, so it can be assumed it belonged to whoever he fought. The results were...well the skin cells were dead."

"Is that bad?"

"Not really. The top most superficial layers of skin cells on all humans are dead. These, however, were long dead. It's like they got in a fight with a corpse or something. We're seeing if we can match the DNA to anyone in the database, but because of the nature of the tissue samples, they're mostly coming back inconclusive."

"Thank you Doctor. Can you please send a copy of the files on all the victims involved to my office?"

"Of course. I'll fax them to the Forks Police Station immediately."

"Thank you." I hung up and took a few pictures of Bella's truck and the van.

When I got back in the police car a call came over the radio. "Charlie, we got a call about a disturbance of the peace."

"Where?"

"Doesn't sound too bad. Just a fight broke out at Pacific Pizza. Two men are in the parking lot about to come to blows."

"Alright I'm on my way."

I didn't get back to the station until the last rays of daylight peeked over the horizon. It was better that way; I didn't want to break the news to any of my officers until I was certain this was really a serial killer. Most of the day-shift officers had left and the graveyard shift was just starting to trickle in so I went and hid in my office. Someone had left the contents of Doctor Kelly's very thick fax on my desk. I'd grabbed a mug of coffee and copiously added a few tablespoons of the vodka that I kept stashed in the file cabinet.

After a few hefty gulps I started shifting through the stack of paper. She'd sent the medical reports, identification of the victims, crime scene reports, and plenty of pictures.

As of the latest one, there were currently five bodies total. The first body came in two months ago. I pulled out the file. It was of a man named Brent Olson. He worked at the animal control center and was in the woods camping. Apparently his wife told the police that he loved camping and would do so as often as he could. He was found near to the Oxbow campground. When it happened we left it to the department closer to the site of death to handle it but that week, as I remember it, the station couldn't stop talking about it.

I looked at pictures the family had sent into the department. I'd seen him around, though we'd never spoken. Now we never would.

I compared a picture of him with his wife on a porch with a picture taken by the coroner's office. His face was almost unrecognizable with all the bruising and swelling.

The next name was a man named Jermaine Harkins. Retired. Liked to fish. Body found out at Hemp Hill Creek. The pictures of his body looked just like Brent Olson's. One of the pictures was a close-up of Jermaine's neck. There was a series of two parallel puncture wounds dotting his neck in several places. Needle marks? Poison, maybe?

The third body found was that of Doyle Burton. He was found near Undi Lake. He was a tourist from out of state. Like a lot of tourists he'd come all the way out here for the peace and quiet. Knowing he'd found nothing but his death made my stomach turn. I looked again for the strange puncture marks and found them around his collar bone and right beneath his cheek.

The fourth was Wilbert Adams. Another camper. Found out in Bogaciel State Park. He was from Port Angeles and like the other three enjoyed camping and fishing. From the photos I could see more of the strange puncture marks.

This last one I knew. His name was Mitchell Pearson and we had gone to high school together what must have been centuries ago. He'd played basketball and enjoyed mountain climbing with his older brother. As I recalled he'd wanted to move away and become a lawyer. His file listed his occupation as logger. He left behind a wife and two children, only a few years younger than Bella. He was out that day merely going on a hike near Calawah River. His wife said he was scheduled to be home before it was even dark that day. He didn't make it.

I pulled out a notepad and pen and started trying to piece this thing together. Five victims: Brent Olson, Jermaine Harkins, Doyle Burton, Wilbur Adams, and Mitchell Pearson. Each one died while camping, fishing, or hiking in or around the area of the Olympic National Park. The bodies were left mutilated as if mauled by an animal, but teeth and claw prints for any known animal were negative. Furthermore, each body contained a blow to the head from an unidentified object and a series of strange puncture marks contained in the neck and torso area. Skin cells found under the nails of body number four—Wilbur Adams, are inconclusive.

I got up and walked over to the map of Washington State hanging on a wall near the file cabinet. I pulled five red colored push-pins out of an old ashtray and ran my finger up the map.

First body found in Oxbow. I pushed a pin into the area. Next body, Hemp Hill. I put a pin in it. Third body found next to Undi Lake. I pinned that location too. Fourth and fifth bodies found in Bogachiel Park and by Calawah River. I pinned them.

"Shit," The pins lined the map following a clear path from south to north staying near to rivers and lakes. The bastard was headed straight for Forks...if he wasn't here already.

I took another liberal swallow of vodka, sans coffee.

Times of death were scattered. Race and gender seemed coincidental. Besides that the only criteria for getting picked by this monster was to be in the woods alone.

My first course of action was to immediately issue a warning to potential campers. The people of Forks needed to stay the hell out of the woods. I'd get one of the lieutenants to give a statement early tomorrow morning. The news of the mutilations had already spread like wildfire and most assumed them to be animal attacks. I think for now it's better to keep it that way so as not to cause a panic. At least until I could call in an expert. The FBI certainly but probably a profiler too.

I sat back down at my desk and took another drink. Somehow that made the headache better but the dread worse. Doctor Kelly's fax was scattered on the desk and somewhere off to the side was the damage report from Bella's truck.

I flipped through the pictures in my phone, trying to distract myself with the mundanity of haggling with the car insurance company over the damages to the Chevy. Staring down at the pictures in my phone, half drunk, I was still amazed that Bella wasn't hurt in any real way. Was the kid encased in a steel tomb when it happened? Did an angel step in to save her? But no, they'd said that other kid had pushed her out of the way.

Edward Cullen.

It wasn't the face of a kid I'd seen grow up. His family had moved here only two years ago I think. I'd seen them around but as far as I could tell they weren't a social bunch. They mostly stayed to themselves up in the manor of theirs tucked off into the edge of the wilderness. Dr. Cullen and his wife looked a bit younger than me but they had five teenagers. I think I heard someone mention that they were adopted or something.

That had always struck me as odd somehow...

Probably something to do with how difficult is was for my friends Tom and Sally Anderson to conceive. I'd remembered that because at the time Renee had felt bad for them and had sewn her a couple of prayer shawls inspired by whatever hippy shit she'd been into at the time.

Anyway Tom and Sally had ended up having to adopt their son. But that had taken years of paperwork, and psyche evaluations, and meeting with social workers before they were finally given their son Caleb. I guess in Alaska they give out teenagers like consolation prizes because I'd bet my left nut that Dr. Cullen was no more than twenty-five or so. What kind of twenty-five year old couple was into adopting an entire pack of teenagers?

It wasn't like they were fooling anybody about it though. They all looked so different from each other. Except of course for their unnaturally pale skin. I didn't know what that was about, and it was probably rude to say, but it freaked me out. Maybe it was just more Alaska weirdness or is this vodka starting to kick in?

I took another drink.

Either way I was thankful that his kid had been able to save Bella—if he'd stop giving her the goo-goo eyes all the time. She was still a little girl to me. Thinking about her and boys made my ass ache.

Figures she'd be into some clown with a weird hairdo. She had her mother's taste in men...wait a minute.

As the alcohol fully got to my head I lay back in my chair and drifted off. I dreamt of carnage like I've never seen. Bodies piling on bodies and blood pooling at my feet. I saw death like I've never known. I saw Tom and Sally, and Martha, and Bill, and other Bill, and Waylon, and Billy, and Gerry—practically the whole town—screaming and crying in pain. A white snake appeared in the gore and slithered it's way towards me. I tried to run but I was glued in place, tried to scream but only met dead ears. It slinked up my body and stared me in the eyes.

It's mouth opened showing perfectly white fangs, "You're lucky, Charlie," It said.

I stared at it. Stared into his red eyes and saw its pale white skin glimmer under moonlight. It wrapped itself around my neck and began squeezing with all its might. At last it sank its teeth into my neck but I was too weak to cry out. As I fell to my knees I saw Bella and Edward Cullen standing among the corpses. He held Bella in his arms and smiled at me through eyes as red as blood. "You're lucky I was there to save her, Charlie." And with that he leaned down and bit into her neck. To my horror, instead of dying like the others she turned into a snake too and the room was suddenly filled with them.

When I woke up, I was in my office and it was 2 am. My temples pounded and I moaned as I sat upright. No more vodka and coffee specials for me. I gathered up the files, headed home, and crashed in my bed just before the morning sun rose to proclaim the new day.

I crawled out of bed later to find my cell phone full of unheard messages. Most were the usual but one was from Forks High School.

"Hello, Chief Swan," said the woman on the recording. "I'm calling to let you know that Bella didn't come to classes yesterday."

Oh, that's right. Can't forget the exciting trials of parenthood.

"A student heard a rumor that she and another student might have cut classes and went off to the woods. It's nothing serious, just a courtesy call we give. If she was absent for a legitimate reason, however, please make sure you send a note with her tomorrow. Thank you."

Corpses, serial killers, near-death accidents, and now skipping? Was it okay with the world if I just crawled back into bed and never got up again?

After that bit of unpleasantness I got on the phone with the station and made sure they'd got my message to warn citizens of the dangers in the forest. Maybe I should have told them about the murderer, but all I could see was the inevitable panic and the call for answers—answers I didn't have right now.

By the time I was up good I heard the front door closing. "Bella."

"Yeah?"

I staggered my way down the stairs to meet her. She stood there with her backpack slung over one shoulder, her back hunched over a little. "Have you been sick lately, you look a little pale...well, paler than usual."

"Yeah, I'm fine Charlie."

"Excuse me?"

"Dad. I'm fine dad." She made to go up the stairs but I grabbed her arm and gently pulled her back. She looked at me, puzzled.

"The school called today. They said you cut class. Were you with that Cullen kid?"

"His name is Edward."

"I don't care what his name is, this is about you ditching school. And the two of you went in the woods? Alone together? What for?"

"Nothing. We were just talking."

"Just talking?" I lost my virginity in those woods. "About what?"

"Stuff!"

"You shouldn't be going in the woods. There have been more animal attacks."

"Yeah, I know." She tried to pull from my grasp and run up the stairs.

"Hey! What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Dad. I'm sorry I ditched, it didn't think it was a big deal."

"This is Edward, isn't it? You never did stuff like this before you started hanging around with him."

"It's not his fault, okay. I shouldn't have skipped school—I just wasn't thinking." She looked at me with a kind of anxious quietness, so I let it go and watched her slouch her way up to her room.

Was this puberty or was the behavior change contributed to bad influence?

Edward was the affluent son of a doctor but that didn't mean he wasn't taking advantage of her naivete. It didn't mean he wasn't a dick either.

To be honest I didn't know that much about him or his family

If she was going to start seeing this idiot, then I wanted to know everything there was to know about Edward Cullen. One way or another.