Between Limestone Ruins

Preface

"I'm just sayin' we don't see this kinda thing 'round here". The head ranger at Algonquin National Park followed the RCMP officer annoyingly close, coming dangerously close to stepping on the officer's heels. 

Agent Alec Walker fought the urge to roll his eyes. He'd heard that line a hundred times from a hundred different small-town cops. Violent crime happens everywhere, and this ranger's naivety had Walker looking for an exit from the conversation as soon as possible. This guy would be no help to his investigation and therefore was no longer a priority to Walker.

The wind was whistling through the trees aggressively, Canadian weather being ever so unpredictable. Walker wished he had donned a parka instead of his smart pea-coat that went better with his suit. 

He was impressed that the small community cops had found remains at all, in true Canadian fashion, they'd had over two feet of snow fall in the last 48 hours. Walker assumed a dog had found part of a body and when the cops went to investigate they found much more than they bargained for, turning jurisdiction over to the federal cops, the RCMP, and putting Walker on a plane to run point on the investigation. 

The park ranger finished rattling on about the beauty and safety of the region. 

"If finding 12 bodies in the woods is a normal occurrence for you I'd tell you to get a new job,'' Walker replied blandly.

The ranger chuckled, not recognizing the 'shut up' vibes Walker was sending him. "I guess you're right, I'll count my blessings tonight that's for sure."

Agent Walker found it odd how people dealt with trauma with 'at least it wasn't me' or 'it could have been worse', as if the victim hadn't suffered at all. It's bullshit. Not that he himself addressed his traumas head on, but at least he didn't equate them with a blessing. It didn't matter anyway, as he had spotted the investigation team through the brush and decided he'd had enough chit chat.

"I can handle myself from here, thanks." The other man's anxiety was so obvious it was like a cheese grater to Walker's brain. People tend to ramble when they were scared. Walker didn't see the problem with silence; it gave him time to think and he was not going to be able to think with the obvious rookie anywhere near him.

The Ranger did not try to hide his relief and was almost gleeful in his response:

"Oh, thank goodness! I mean, I want to help, but those bodies... they were...real people... with moms and dads and wives. I think about what could have happened and I just..." He emphasized his discomfort with a shudder, but Walker had already swept passed him toward the crime scene, trying very hard to ignore the man's discomfort. It wasn't his job to comfort the locals.

His job was to find the killer, and it was best not to get in Agent Walker's way. If his stature at 6'8 wasn't intimidating enough, his intense reputation always preceded him: ex-military, special forces, now federal detective with a classified background a mile long.

"Walker!" Welcome to the party!" The familiar sound of a local cop Walker had previously worked with greeted him. Algonquin Provincial Park was a popular tourist destination and dead body dumping ground, so Walker knew a few guys on the local police force. They were more accustomed to violent crime than the young ranger that walked Walker out.

Alec Walker would not describe himself as outdoorsy, but with a specialty in violent crime, he ended up wherever headquarters sent him. Which meant he had trekked these trails many times to investigate crime scenes. From the briefing he had received on the plane, this case would be different from any other.

The OPP out near Algonquin knew Agent Walker was a city boy, born and raised in Toronto, studied criminology at OttawaU, through a scholarship given him through the Canadian military. Free tuition for 5 years of service. They got 8 years out of Alec Walker, although official records might be hard to find proving such; Walker had been a member of an elite and classified branch of the military. He was honourably discharged after a classified injury and got hired by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, where he had worked serial killer cases in the 'violent crime' category for three years now.

He did not ride a horse. Trek out into the wilderness to look at a crime scene? Sure. Ride a horse around like a Canadian stereotype? No thank you. He didn't dignify people who asked about the dumb hat with an answer anymore. Take him seriously or go to hell.

"What do we have Bryan?" Walker didn't care for small talk much. Quick and factual was his preferred method of communication. Luckily, Bryan already knew that.

"Twelve female victims, time of death between 6 and 3 months ago, decomp gives us essentially nothing to go on." Bryan lifted his hands in an awkward 'I-don't-know-what-to-tell you gesture. "Sorry man, there's nothing to go on whatsoever. The weather is screwing the investigation significantly."

"So, we have 12 bodies and nothing else? How is that possible?" Walker muttered. No cop wanted to step into an immediate cold case. And one with twelve victims? A nightmare.

"Actually, it's parts of 12 bodies!" a new voice exclaimed.

A young crime scene tech who had been taking soil samples nearby had piped in to join the conversation. But had an instant look of regret upon facing Walker, when he whipped around to the source of the voice to see the man, kneeling by a single skull, half buried in the still melting snow.

"What do you mean, parts?" Walker growled.

Walker saw the kid gulp. "Uhm, well, you see mister... Sorry! Agent Walker--"

"Spit it out kid. Are we missing body parts or what?"

"Not missing per say", the intern rushed to explain, tripping over his words, "all bones for all 6 women are accounted for, it's just... they aren't all together".

Walker stared at the intern, expression deadly and unchanging.

"What the kid means to say", Officer Bryan jumped in, "is that scavengers have moved bones," Bryan grinned in an attempt to defuse the tension between the young intern and the stern detective. "Happens all the time."

"No, I am not, I am not saying anything about scavengers!" The outburst seemed to erupt out the interns mouth uncontrollably. Both superior officers turned to him in surprise. The intern took a deep breath.

"Twelve bodies, we found them in a radius of 10km. Meaning there is a significant distance between gravesites. Why would victim #3's femur be found with victim #1? And some of victim #4's ribs were closer to victim #8's skull."

Other people on the scene were listening in now. The intern didn't seem to notice; he pinned Walker with a hard stare. Daring him to brush off the hypothesis he had presented.

"If not scavengers then what, rookie?" Laughed another OPP officer. "The bones picked a favourite victim and went to go hang out?"

"No", the intern stuttered slightly, his gaze breaking from Walker's as his cheeks coloured at the insult. "But I think whoever did this moved parts, I don't know maybe to throw off any investigation?"

"What's your name kid?" Walker, who had been silent until now, assessing the scene and the kid, began pulling a small notepad out of his suit jacket.

"Me sir?" Walker nodded without taking his eyes off what he was joting down in his notepad. "Uh, its Johnathan Miller, sir."

"You don't have to call me sir, Miller. But you are going to help me find a serial killer."