Free The Shepherd by Ethan Cross Page A

victim.
    “He’s a mystery from a psychiatric standpoint as well. Before he escaped, the doctors poured over him. Is he a narcissist? A true sociopath? Does he have emotions, or is he devoid? Does he feel remorse? Hell, some even believed that Ackerman was schizophrenic. During their sessions, one doctor would come to a conclusion, and the next would come in only to have Ackerman’s reactions lead him down another path.”
    “Sounds to me like he was screwing with them.”
    “That could be, but one of the shrinks had a different theory. This doctor, I forget his name, watched all of the tapes Ackerman Sr. made. He noticed that eventually the boy would become whatever his father wanted. If he wanted him to kill, he killed. If he wanted him to lack emotion, then the boy suppressed his feelings and became stone. This doctor felt that Ackerman had merely been programmed to unconsciously and intuitively become whoever the shrinks wanted him to be. If the nature of the questions seemed to be trying to prove that he felt no remorse, then he showed no remorse—on the outside, at least. And vice versa. That’s why he’s such an interesting case. He’s really not his own man. He often imitates other killers and not just those from real life, but also those found in pop culture. It’s almost as if he doesn’t kill for himself. It’s like he’s trying to give the world what they expect a crazed killer to be. He’s playing the role that he feels was assigned to him.”
    Marcus considered this for a moment and then, wanting to change the subject, said, “No offense, but you seem to know a lot about serial killers for a local sheriff.”
    The Sheriff laughed. “In another life, I was a special agent with the FBI. I worked out of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Loved the work, but I didn’t get to see much of my daughter. It was as much a calling as it was a job. Shortly after my wife… passed away, this position came open, and I took it. With this job, I was home almost every night. Things worked out for the best. I don’t regret it one bit.”
    He registered that the Sheriff volunteered his lack of regret without being prompted. He wondered who the Sheriff was trying to convince, his guest or himself?
    The Sheriff continued. “That’s my story. Why don’t you give me yours?”
    “Not much to tell. Born and raised in New York. Used to be a homicide detective there. The work didn’t agree with me. My aunt passed away, and I inherited a small ranch outside of town.”
    “A bit young to have been a detective, aren’t you?”
    He shrugged. “There were a lot of cops that agreed with you.”
    “Hmm, apparently not all of them.”
    “Meaning?”
    “I made a few phone calls and talked to one of your former commanding officers.”
    His chest tightened. That can’t be good .
    The Sheriff hesitated a moment, as if gauging his reaction. “The gentleman I talked to said that you were a fine officer and a brilliant detective.”
    “Really?” He tried to hide his shock but realized that he had failed miserably.
    “He seemed to like you, and so does my daughter. That’s good enough for me. Don’t worry. I’m not gonna give you the don’t break my little girl’s heart speech. She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself. I just wanted to take a moment to get to know you a little better and welcome you to Asherton. You seem like a good kid, and the fight at the bar didn’t appear to be your fault. But this isn’t New York. I’m the law here. Keep your nose clean, and we’ll get along just fine. Did you fill out a statement about the incident from last night?”
    “Yes, sir, your deputy took care of it.”
    The Sheriff stood. “Good. If you need anything, just let me know. Maybe we can talk more later, but I really need to get back to work.” The Sheriff extended a hand, and Marcus took it. “Thanks for coming in.”
    Marcus stood and moved to the door. As he was about to walk though the entryway, the Sheriff