Position Twelve
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                                                      Prologue

Thursday, March 19, 1998

      Compared to the work required to dispose of their remains, capturing and killing women was easy. Charles McFee dreaded the labor required to carve another hole in the rocky Nevada hardpan. He finished placing the markers that precisely aligned the new grave with the other five in his secluded cemetery. Although it was still well before noon, he took a large pull on a water bottle to avoid dehydration before laboring with the pickaxe.
     Two hours later the grave matched the dimensions of the other graves. He threw the pickaxe aside, and climbed out of the hole. He stretched to relieve his aching muscles and removed his work gloves to inspect his soft hands. A shadow moved between the new grave and his van parked twenty feet away. The sun, now much higher in the sky, caused him to shade his eyes to see the turkey vultures soaring high above. Perhaps the birds associated his van with the smell of death and the remains of Number Six wafting through the air.
     He carried three plastic bags and threw them in the grave as the ever-watchful turkey vultures circled overhead hoping for a tasty meal. He began filling the grave but stopped suddenly when the he realized that others might see the circling birds. A desert hiker or tourist might get curious, discover the graves, or catch him trying to dispose of a body.
     The birds were only part of the problem. He knew that modern forensics might one day tie these women to his home. Although he cleaned the special room in his house and the van, the police might find a trace of their remains. If that happened, he knew it would be impossible to avoid the certainty of conviction.
     There had to be a way of dealing with these vicious women while minimizing both the risk and the work required for disposing them. He grabbed his tools and headed toward the van. “It’s just another problem,” he said to the departing turkey vultures. Charles McFee hardly noticed the hour and fifteen-minute ride home as his mind poured over various possibilities.
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