The Online Geocacher
Your Free User-Created Ezine for All Things Geocaching

Wed, Aug 6, 2008

He'd been flying well beneath the radar for years now. As far as he could tell, no one knew who he was, or even that there was anyone to know. He had been as good as invisible. All that was changing.

In the last few weeks, several of his "wet caches", as he enjoyed calling them, had been found. The first was an older one and not very well hidden. It was behind a busy Gate station in a residential area. Someone was bound to have stumbled upon it some day. In fact, he'd been considering doing a little "cache maintenance", or even moving it. The second one was in a wood that some developer had decided to develop. He'd gone by to try to move it, but just couldn't find a time when there weren't people around. The area had filled in with homes since he'd placed it. The third one had been buried. Really buried. It was just his misfortune that a contractor was burying some kind of cable right through his location. They dug it up with a Bobcat. Then, this afternoon, a fourth one had been found in Jennings Forest. He had been surprised anyone but him had been to that spot in years. How could someone have found it there? Why would anyone have even been there? What misfortune for him.

Now the pieces of the puzzle were being pulled out of the box. His wet caches had been found before. "Muggled" was the geocaching term for it. But not so many and not in such rapid succession. Were they going to be able to piece them together? Would anything point to him?

It wasn't just the risk that upset him. He felt violated. They were HIS. His wet caches. His property. His women. His to enjoy. And now these cops were disturbing everything. It was as if he had to stand back and watch someone rifle through his underwear drawer.

If all that weren't bad enough, there was Serial Finder's new cache. It was placed right on top of one of his wet caches. Had to be within 30 feet of it. Granted it was the perfect spot for a cache. He'd chosen it himself, hadn't he? But what were the odds? Was it possible that some other Geocacher had wandered around the forest and just happened to hide a cache within 30 feet of where he'd stashed one of his ladies? No, he didn't like the odds on that at all.

But what to do? He could go check on his wet caches and make sure they remained well hidden. However, if someone were aware of the locations, he might be spotted and that could put him under suspicion. If he wasn't under suspicion already, that is. Perhaps a new hide? He hadn't done a wet cache in a couple of months. He was about due and was feeling the itch. The itch would get even worse if he held back from revisiting his existing hides. This was frustrating. He did not like the sense of being out of control of the situation. He'd have to mull things over.

At least he had his trophies to comfort him. He opened a desk drawer and ran his fingers through a box of jewelry and other trinkets. There on the top was his pride and joy. A severed and desiccated pinky finger. He'd have to collect more of those now that he'd learned how to preserve them. It made a satisfying trophy. He caressed it and smiled.

As Mark approached Hwy 301, he changed his mind about holing up at the Suwannee River. He had to find out what was going on. Hiding out on the Suwannee would put him even further out of the loop than he already was. There wasn't even reliable cell reception there. Above all, he needed some help. This was just too big to handle alone. Instead of continuing west across 301, he turned north toward I-10 and back to Jacksonville.

He needed to fire up his laptop and get on the Internet. There must be something in the news if there were bodies popping up all over town. The truck stop was on the Duval side of the county line, but it was a WiFi Hotspot. There, he could make a wireless connection to the Internet. While he had enough gas to make it, he didn't want to be that exposed in Duval County. Just in case that cop had managed to contact his buddies. So as 301 approached I-10, he pulled into the smallest station he could see. To avoid having to interact with the clerk, he used his check card to pay at the pump and filled up the tank. Within minutes he was back on the road and heading up the ramp to the interstate.

It had been a long day and Mark was exhausted, but thoughts of his predicament kept him from nodding off at the wheel. Did they really think he was involved with these bodies? Did they have any other evidence that pointed to him? How many other bodies had been found? Was that cop still walking? He chuckled at that thought.

Within fifteen minutes he was within a mile and a half of the truck stop exit. He reached behind the back seat, pushed some trash out of the way and pulled out his laptop case. Trash sure made great camouflage. Especially those fast food bags. What self-respecting thief would want to sift through that? He felt for the zipper, opened the case and removed the computer and unraveled the cord. From the glove box he removed the adapter and plugged it into the cigarette lighter. The '95 Tracker was just old enough to have an actual lighter in the cigarette lighter. He tossed it on the passenger seat. As he was slowing down on the off ramp, he searched the laptop case, pulled out his WiFi card and slipped it into the appropriate slot. Pulling up to a stop sign, he stopped the car, made sure no one was behind him and booted up the device.

While it was booting up, he made the turn and drove to the truck stop. He decided he had better slip into "stealth mode", driving around the outer perimeter of the parking lot to the back of the facility. Finding a spot where a couple lights were out, he parked between a van and a pickup, where he would have the cover of at least partial darkness. He hoped that he would be able to get a connection at this distance and was relieved when the software indicated a connection was being made. It took another minute or so to get his browser online, but soon he was googling news on bodies turning up in Jacksonville.

In no time he had refined his keyword search and had a list of articles. A surprising number of them. Bodies turning up is apparently not as odd as one might think. However, many of the articles didn't quite fit what he was looking for. Some were bodies found floating in the river or in ponds. "His" bodies were buried and foul play was clearly involved. After reviewing everything as far back as twelve months, he had five items that might be right.

One was about the body at the spot behind the Gate station. That one had turned up a few weeks ago and had been identified. So had the one found off Hecksher Drive. Both were women in their late twenties or early thirties. They were somewhat attractive, and from their pictures, it appeared that they could be sisters. Each article mentioned that they had each been convicted of prostitution several times. Just a bone thrown to the wives and daughters out there that this probably isn't something that "normal" folks need to be concerned about.

There was another one from about eight months ago, who could've been a close cousin, if not a sister of the other two. One conviction for prostitution. The news report says that she was found near Pumpkin Hill Creek. He loaded the waypoints from his list into his mapping software. Sure enough, one of them was in that area. He tried to refine his search to get more information but couldn't come up with any more definite location. Even so, he knew the body had been found right by that waypoint.

The fifth body, found eleven months ago didn't seem to fit with the others. The victim was older, with no mention of prostitution and the location where she was found didn't come close to any of the waypoints.

There were also a few paragraphs on the body he had found today.

"BODY FOUND IN JENNINGS FOREST"

"MIDDLEBURG -- Authorities are investigating the death of an unidentified woman whose badly decomposed body was found Sunday in a heavily wooded area of Jennings Forest.

Lt. Jim Engle, a spokesman for the Clay County Sheriff's Office, said the body was discovered at about 4:00 p.m. yesterday by a hiker. The hiker noticed some material that appeared to have been exposed by erosion, Engle said.

The victim's age and possible cause of death could not be determined because the body was badly decomposed, Engle said. The case is considered a potential homicide, he said. Efforts were being made to match the victim to women reported missing in the area.

The Duval County Sheriff's Office is also assisting with the investigation.

An autopsy is being conducted at the state crime lab in Gainesville."

Well, at least they didn't mention his name or anything about geocaching. He certainly wouldn't want the real killer to know who he was. That thought made him shiver. The killer probably knew already! He might as well have emailed his identity to him. That cache he placed at that first spot announced it to the world. The killer, no doubt, had seen "Forest Thicket" and was wondering how Mark had happened to be there. Perhaps the cops weren't his biggest worry.

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His trophies just hadn't been enough to assuage his need so he decided to go on a hunt. He wished he had a better idea of what the authorities knew about his activities. Nothing in the news indicated that his victims had been connected in any way, but the police often held back information from the press, for both practical and political reasons. As a precaution, he decided to try some new territory, so he was heading west of town.

He had learned the hard way to choose his targets carefully. The first time he had taken a woman, it had just been at random. She was in the wrong place when he had been in the mood. He had not planned it at all. It turned out she was quickly missed and her family hounded the police for progress. The community had sunk a lot of resources into finding her, and then after finding her, into finding her killer.

He had avoided detection by pure luck, though he still spent many weeks paralyzed with worry. No one he had seen in the area had remembered seeing him. At least not enough to provide any description. Though he had made no effort at covering his actions, other than the lame attempt to stash the body, no evidence had ever pointed to him. Just the same, he'd moved away from the area and started over elsewhere. Eventually ending up in Northeast Florida.

Then he discovered geocaching. It added such a great twist to his game. It also allowed him to keep accurate records of the locations of all his bodies, making it easier to return to them and relive the excitement of the hunt. It was also perfect cover for being in odd places at odd times. With a quick explanation, people readily dismissed him. He even enjoyed adding the cache terminology to his lexicon.

Now it was time for a new hide, but first he had to find a target. To keep things safe, he liked to stick to "working girls." To begin with, they were not readily missed. Unless the body was found, as happened occasionally, their associates just figured they moved on to greener pastures. Secondly, they were vulnerable. You could get them into a vehicle, and once there it was all over but the screaming. Finally, they just seemed to give up a lot sooner. Perhaps a hard life just made acquiescence a habit.

Through research and observation, it was easy to find locations frequented by these ladies of the evening. He kept the waypoints on his GPSr so he could drive right to them when the urge struck. He didn't always even intend to find a target. Sometimes it was fun just to look. Tonight, however, he was going to find a target. He needed one.