A/N: That was a pretty intense chapter!
With the climax over, we can start to get some answers.
TRIGGER WARNING: Details of violence akin to what you would read in a true crime book. I would suggest reading this with the lights on.
The FBI's interrogation of Doug was an exhausting, and unforgettable, two days. The man from Everett didn't stonewall investigators like many others do. He was willing to share. Turned out being charged with felony kidnapping and assault of a police officer was not even the tip of the iceberg.
Doug was offered representation numerous times, both the feds and the cops wanted to do this "by the book" and not let him slip between their fingers. However, he declined every time and was more than happy to regale the authorities with his exploits.
Douglas P. Sanders was born on October 24, 1969, in Rutherford, California.
He was the son of a schoolteacher and a machinist and had an unremarkable childhood. By his own admission, Doug recalled the most significant moment from his early years was witnessing a boy's dead body when he was ten. The child was a bit younger than him, having seen him playing around the neighborhood. Apparently, the boy whom he believed was named Steven had tried to reach for a frisbee caught in a tree overlooking a steep ravine. The poor boy fell and cracked his head, killing him instantly.
Posters were hung all over the area, his family desperately looking for him. Doug knew where "Steven" was but didn't tell anyone. He spent days, observing the rotting corpse and even descending down the hill to get a closer look. Doug confessed that he took pictures with his mother's old Instamatic. He remembered taking out the roll of film when it finished but forgot where he put it. Doug had the presence of mind to hide the film, knowing that sending it to be developed would send the cops to his house.
Eventually, Doug did alert the adults as if he just came across the boy. He was interviewed but he was able to literally cover his tracks. Any footprints in the mud were covered with a stick and he used gloves when touching the body because he had saw that on TV. It was still a relatively recent practice, using DNA but this kid was able to keep his distance from the dead body.
He was less worried about being connected to his death, like he caused it, and more about being asked why he didn't report finding him sooner. The truth was that Doug became fascinated with death from that point on. He wanted to know why things died and how everything on the inside worked.
Some would take this specific interest and consider a career in medicine, but Doug charted a much darker path. He would remain a novice surgical explorer, and his laboratory was the world.
At age 16, he committed his first murder.
Doug was driving his beat-up Dodge Palomino when a girl was hitchhiking. She was grateful for him stopping as it was starting to rain. She said her name was Veronica and was looking to get to San Francisco. Through their short conversation, Doug put it together that nobody knew she was out here as Veronica was a runaway. He wasn't even sure if that was her real name, and she was just using an alias as they were both strangers.
He knew that old pickup well, so Doug was able to make it seem like it was driving strange, so he pulled over. Veronica sat in the passenger seat while he popped the hood and discreetly picked up a metal rod he had hidden there. He had a fantasy of pretending to be broken down, have someone stop to see if he needed help, only for him to get the surprise on them with a vicious whack to the head. Came close the other night, but the driver caught glimpse of the weapon and sped off. Fate would give him a second chance, so he took advantage of it.
Doug kept chatting up Veronica to make sure she was still there and at ease, making it seem like he was tinkering under the hood. He lied that the alternator became disconnected and walked around to her side where the window was rolled down. Doug knew it would be awkward for her to escape through the driver's door, so he effectively blocked her escape. He raised the rod, which turned out to have a sharp point and stabbed Veronica in the leg. The revolver he had stuffed down his trousers was taken out, its barrel pressed beneath her chin, and he fired two shots. Her screams stopped as quick as they began.
After having his way with her lifeless body sexually, he wrapped up Veronica in some blankets and drove her to the butcher shop where he apprenticed.
It was an ideal place to work for a young man seeking to figure out how to dismember a body, how to cut the bone and drain the blood. When his victim was in smaller, more manageable pieces, Doug packed it all up and brought it to his house. Since this girl was only passing through, he didn't hear a whisper of police activity. Veronica, if that was her real name, became another missing person.
As he progressed, Doug's pathology went far beyond that initial curiosity, and he learned to relish in the torture of his victims.
The arrest of John Wayne Gacy and the discovery of his crawlspace of horrors was still fresh in the minds of the country. Doug took notice that mementos in the form of corpses weren't of interest to him. And he certainly wasn't like an Ed Gein or a Jeffrey Dahmer, holding onto various parts for nefarious reasons. Doug wasn't looking into making his own macabre museum. Once the people (mostly female) served their purpose, he was inclined to get rid of the remains.
And in the early 1990's, he found the house he would live in for the rest of his free life.
The two-story yellow abode was nestled in a densely wooded area in Everett, accessible through a hidden driveway off the country road. What caught Doug's eye, other than the seclusion, was a particularly unusual feature in the backyard.
Fast forward to months ago when Hal Bircham successfully botched his kidnapping plot and was now saddled with two dead girls. He drove north, sweating as to what to do when he found himself in the Everett wilderness. Doug shined a light onto him, demanding to know who he was and what he was doing. He revealed that he was pointing a 12-gauge shotgun at Bircham with a flashlight duct taped to the barrel.
Doug ordered him to get to the ground and Hal obliged. He checked inside his vehicle and saw the dead teenagers. Doug just told the large man to get back on his feet. He asked for the story and Doug listened. It was there in the dark of night that he struck a bargain with Hal. Due to a recent hardship, getting around was difficult for him. If Doug helps him dispose of these bodies so they are never found, Bircham must deliver a new girl whenever he wants. Doesn't matter where he is or what he's doing; Hal must drop everything and pick up a girl, by deception or by force.
Bircham asked HOW the bodies would be taken care of.
Yards from the residence was a narrow sinkhole.
Decades ago, this spot was chosen as a site for some homes to be constructed. They built the yellow house first and in the midst of breaking ground for the next one, the ground itself broke. The soil was rich in limestone, which was prone to deterioration by groundwater. Any further construction in this area was shut down and the owner was stuck with a big house in the middle of nowhere on land of questionable stability.
Doug said he had no issues with the yellow house over the years. The ground surveyors were obviously brought in AFTER the fact and the builders of that first structure just lucked out. Since it was less than desirable, the landowner let the property go for a good deal. Now, Doug had the isolation as well as a means to efficiently dispose of the bodies he discarded.
Special Agent Crowley slid the state ID of Donna Blakely.
"We found this in your house."
He craned his neck to look at it.
"Oh...the one that got away...I'm not even upset."
"Why?" pressed Crowley.
Doug shrugged.
"She was the first girl in a very long time! I hadn't...indulged...in about four years. Thought I lost my lust for it, you know?"
The man in the black tie was disgusted but gave a look that he was unimpressed.
"Anyhow..." Doug sighed. "Seeing the dawning on her face...that fear that she knew what was happening...I felt so rejuvenated!"
He went on to explain how he thought his days were up and with the bum leg, driving would be impossible. So, he sat for days and days paying attention to the news and nothing! Just rumors of a Jane Doe found dead in the woods of Everett. Feeling like he got away with it, coupled with his running into Bircham, Doug wanted to take things to a new level.
For years, he remained in the shadows. As anonymous as the people he preyed upon. Doug focused on drifters, runaways, people who didn't belong. With Lin Deering and Bethany Bannister, two Langley locals with ties to the community, he wanted to terrorize the area. His desire to maim had grown stale, hence the cool down period, and his brush with Donna showed him what he had forgotten: fear.
In an alternate reality, Donna would live to tell the tale of the man who tried to capture her. She would spread the word about the maniac on the loose. Doug had killed in secret and now that it wasn't doing it for him anymore, he took a riskier path and wanted to be an infamous celebrity. The pacific northwest would have its own boogeyman.
How he shamelessly slaughtered the two sex workers was nothing new. But leaving them to be discovered was.
And for those first glorious weeks, it worked. The cops were clueless and even the FBI didn't get a sniff on who was behind this!
What Doug had underestimated was how much of a wild card Hal Bircham was. At first, while intellectually inferior, he thought he found a kindred spirit. However, Bircham had something resembling a conscience. He wasn't an outright sociopath like Doug, who didn't recognize the value of human life.
Bircham was a career criminal, but nothing more severe than petty theft or grand theft auto. Kidnapping the two high school graduates was an escalation and had he only taken Nikki Benson as planned, the ransom plot might have gone off. Sadly, he found that Nikki wasn't alone but went ahead with the scheme anyway. Hal didn't even think, he just reacted when Heather tried to get away and then Nikki started screaming.
Now with no leverage, the ransom not even being announced, Hal was left with two corpses to get rid of. Soon after, he met Doug Sanders.
"Now that those girls were taken care of..." Doug leaned back in his chair. "It was time to pay the piper..."
The fate of the "Bellevue Belles" was apparent but nobody wanted to declare anything official until the bodies were found. It shouldn't be too hard as they were the most recent offerings to the hole in the ground.
Crowley told his people to get the county on the phone, wake the governor if they had to, but he needed to excavate the backyard of Doug's home. Who knew how many bodies were piled into that sink hole? Speaking of which, that was one detail that bugged Cat Valentine in the lab since she discovered it. The residue left on the footprints left at the dumping sites of the two women yielded limestone deposits. It was picked up from Doug's yard as the soil around the sinkhole had traces of limestone in it.
Her original hypothesis was their perp was a cave diver or something. Turned out, the murderer just lived above a hollowed cavern.
And what of Hal Bircham's "suicide?"
Doug smirked and regarded the feds coldly.
"Once I figured out that Hal had a guilty conscience, I knew just what to do to make him no longer a liability."
[FLASHBACK]
"I'm so tired," Hal sobbed. "I just want to sleep but the nightmares..."
Doug put his hand on the big guy's shoulder.
"I know, I know."
He set the tape recorder with gloves hands and set it beside Hal on the bed.
"Now..." Doug hovered his finger over the record button. "Just say your peace and I promise you...you will find peace."
"Oh-Okay..." Hal nodded. "I'm ready."
[CLICK]
[END OF FLASHBACK]
He was like a shaking leaf, Doug acknowledged. Bircham was open to suggestion. It didn't take too much for him to turn the gun on himself and pull the trigger.
When the mystery of the missing girls from Bellevue and the slain pair from Langley were explained, Doug would go on to reveal many more gruesome killings. His home was a literal house of horrors, and the sink hole out back was his "bottomless pit."
Every few hours, Crowley had to rotate his people as the current batch of agents kept getting squeamish.
"I think I'm gonna throw up!" remarked Andre.
Beck shook his head, shivering despite it being quite warm in the situation room.
"Who knew the Devil himself was under everyone's noses." The Canadian shrugged. "On second thought, that's pretty on brand."
Once Doug explained how he dealt with Hal, the pair couldn't bring themselves to listen further. Another day for the rest of his twisted tale.
Forensics found plenty of physical evidence all through Doug's home, but the real kicker was the treasure trove of photographs and small personal items his victims left behind. He had a shoebox full of driver's licenses. While he made sure to ditch the bodies, he ended up holding onto some keepsakes anyway.
"How's she doing?"
Beck looked up at the question.
"Okay, believe it or not. She's one tough motherfucker."
Andre smirked.
"Later on, I'll pick up Traylor and we can pay them a visit."
He didn't have to ask.
He knew Tori was not alone.
Jade stood over Tori's bed, biting her lip.
It drove her crazy how she couldn't climb in next to her. But doctor's orders, Tori had to take it easy. She's been through a lot.
Jade sustained some abrasions from the tight restraints and redness from the forceful slap across the face, not to mention a queasiness in her stomach. Whatever drug that prick stuck her with had to run its course through her system. After about 24 hours, she felt confident to at least imbibe some crackers to keep hunger at bay.
It was microscopic in her professional opinion compared to Tori.
Tori was stabbed in the left thigh, right shoulder, and when she was distracted by that last one, sustained another stab in the right side, below the rib cage. Plus, she had a nasty crack in the back of her head that needed to be closed up (more stitches!) from when Doug snuck up with a piece of lumber and smacked her. Further diagnostic revealed no other injuries.
One positive was the doctors noticed her wound above the eye had healed and they removed the sutures.
The blonde lightly felt the faded pink line that would be Tori's "badge of honor" for life. It wasn't just a symbol of her dedication and bravery. It also marked a turning point between them, when they stopped being at each other's throats and opened up some.
Jade was beyond glad she did because Tori Vega from the LAPD was one-of-a-kind.
"Hey..."
The voice was raspy but it was most certainly Tori's relaxed tone.
Through narrow slits, she smiled at her girlfriend who looked so worried. Tori reached out and Jade was quick to receive her hand.
"Did you sleep alright?" Jade asked.
"I much prefer your bed..." Tori winced. "With you in it."
Brown eyes darted around the room.
"You know if they have any cameras in here?"
"What?" Jade smirked. "Why?"
Tori leaned her head slightly to the open door.
"Seeing if we have complete...um...privacy if we close the door."
Jade squeezed the cool tan hand.
"Why, you want to have sex or something?"
"Could we?"
Blue eyes grew huge and porcelain cheeks got red.
"Pretty sure that's not taking it easy, Vega!"
The detective licked her lips.
"I didn't hear a no."
The medical examiner leaned in for a kiss.
"KNOCK, KNOCK!"
They were both startled by the arrival of Andre and Traylor.
"What the..." Tori gasped. "Hey, guys!"
Traylor rushed over to Tori's bedside and smiled at her.
"I panicked so hard when I heard the news, but thank God you made it out."
"Cats have nothing on her!" Andre smiled, setting down a big bag with balloons and flowers. "She just has that never say die spirit!"
Tori locked eyes with Traylor, as they had an understanding. The two women were part of an exclusive sorority where they faced impossible odds and survived because, Tori was sure she'd agree, that someone out there gave her that reason to live. They both looked over at their reasons as they talked.
Jade was aware that they were being stared at and shrugged, "What?"
(You wouldn't get it, babe.)
A/N: Still a few more to go here, wanting the finale this story deserves.