Gabriel took up the latex gloves that Rick proffered and snapped them on. He reached down and sifted through the shreds of clothing that were stiffening in the breeze with drying blood. His fingers touched something that crunched. Repelled but curious, Gabriel grasped the object firmly and pulled it out.
In his hands he held a plastic Ziploc sandwich bag. He looked at Dash, Gein, Rick, and Ramirez. “This is the first time the victims have been trunked, am I right?”
“Yeah,” Ramirez answered evenly. “This time the perp planted something he didn't want burned. We put it back for you just the way we found it.”
Dash took Gabriel’s flashlight and steadied the beam on the baggie. Inside was a folded piece of white paper. Typed on one side in neat computer font, was “Gabriel McRay.”
Mice ran down Gabriel’s spine and he looked at the other men in surprise.
“You know something about this?” Ramirez asked.
Gabriel shook his head.
The other men huddled close, craning to see what would appear.
Gabriel carefully pulled out the note, and unfolded it slowly.
“What’s it say, McRay?”
Gabriel shook his head in disbelief and his voice creaked like a haunted house when he spoke, “We are one.”
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