Her name was Jeni Johnson, but only he knew that. He had plans for her—just like he’d had plans for the other three. They’d each enjoyed their last night in their quest to move to the top of the social ladder. He gave them a taste, but that was all. They had to die. And there would be more. He was on a mission. His plan was flawless. He’d designed and thought out every detail, down to the black rose—the living symbol of death in a relationship. This time of the year, Revere Beach Boulevard was quiet. The beach crowd who would bake in the sand by day and party by night were still a couple months away from inhabiting the area where the body of a young girl was found carefully placed behind the seawall next to the bathhouse across from the Do-Drop-In Lounge. Detective Mike Mastro and his partner, Detective Sal Petruca, out of the Revere Police Department were assigned to the case. There were no visible signs of violence, no blood and no identification. Two months earlier, a girl posed the same way was found on a beach in Hull, Massachusetts. And, eight months before that, two girls cut from the same mold were found in two beach locations in Quincy. Fingerprints, DNA and a search of the missing persons’ bank didn’t bring the detectives any closer to putting names to the bodies. Tensions mounted. With everything working against them, Detectives Mastro and Petruca, had to step up their investigation and nail the killer before he strikes again.
