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the others?” Beth asked.
    “Yes. Same C.O.D. as well. Multiple stab wounds, and throat was cut,” Whissell said.
    “Anyone have an idea how long she was there or even when she was killed?” Clifford asked.
    “Coroner was out there. From what I heard, he said she’d maybe been lying there for a day or so. Deceased for about a day longer than that.”
    “The coroner took the body?” I asked. “Does that go to a medical examiner’s office or something around here?”
    “The body is in Nashville at the facility that handles that for us. We had our own county coroner and medical examiner up until about two years ago, and then we followed suit with what Nashville and Davidson County started doing. There is a private facility that we and the other counties use. For us, it just didn’t make sense, financially, to have our own any longer. We only have five or so murders a year and only so many deaths that are natural that need to be investigated. Kind of hard to keep our own facility up and running for just that. The lead medical examiner’s name there is Chip Nehls though there’re quite a few of them working there. If you guys are planning on going over there, I can give Chip a call and let him know. He’ll be able to make someone available.”
    “The body is there now?” I asked.
    The chief deputy bobbed his head in confirmation.
    “Okay, yeah, that’s probably going to be our next stop,” I said.
    “Sure,” he said.
    “I know where it’s at, Clifford said. “We use the same facility if it’s something involving us. You guys can just follow me over there.”
    I nodded.
    “Chief Deputy, what can you tell us about this?” Beth asked. “Do you have any ideas or gut feelings?”
    He rocked himself back in his chair. “The originals were well before my time here, but I know it’s been a thorn in the station’s ass since the day it started. It has been one in mine since I took the seat here in twenty ten. I was over in the next county, working law enforcement, when it originally went down and had a few friends that worked here, so I’ve heard plenty of stories about it. And since the culprit has never been found, every time someone has gone missing or has died in an unusual way—or really, anytime something remotely strange happens within about fifty miles—it’s blamed on The Butcher. Been that way as long as I can remember. The Butcher did it, no matter what the it was.”
    “The Butcher name—we heard it from Agent Clifford here as well. When did that start?” I asked.
    “Been around as long as I can remember,” he said.
    “I’d ask why the name, but I think it’s pretty self-explanatory,” I said.
    He nodded.
    “Was there ever a suspect?” Beth asked.
    “Yeah, the department here had a guy back when the original bodies were being found. Owen Matheson. Different kind of guy who lived on the outskirts of town, from what I’ve heard.”
    “Yeah, that rings a bell now that I think about it,” Agent Clifford said. “It’s not in our case file anywhere, though.”
    I jotted the name down. “Different how?”
    “I guess he just lived the old way—tended land, grew and kept his own food, kids didn’t attend school, only came into town when it was absolutely necessary. Not really a part of the community, I guess.”
    “What happened with this guy?” I asked.
    “They found out it wasn’t him, which is why it didn’t make the file more than likely,” Whissell said. “I guess a couple more bodies turned up when they had the guy in custody, bodies that couldn’t have been dumped where they were prior to this guy being detained.”
    “Do you know what it was that made him a suspect in the first place?” I asked.
    He shrugged. “Again, everything I’ve heard is second hand.”
    “Well, what did you hear?” I asked.
    “I guess the guy had a wife that apparently was a mute and a pair of teenage sons. The one that still lived at home was a little off. The other was out of the