Down Among The Bones

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Down Among The Bones Page 10

by Vickie McKeehan


  On their first meeting, JoVelle Martinique had come across exciting and generous with her time. She was undoubtedly the most interesting woman he’d met in a long time. But lately, she’d been hanging around, coming over to his house without an invitation. JoVelle used the same excuse—she dropped by to check on his greenhouse when he wasn’t at home. He’d recently walked in on her, holding a watering can above his thriving split-leaf philodendron. Shrieking at her that he’d just watered it the day before, he knew he’d gotten his message across.

  Though he’d asked for his key back, then and there, JoVelle had dashed out of the house like it was on fire. Days later, she still hadn’t handed over the key. If he didn’t get his hands on it soon, he’d have to change the locks.

  Nothing like dealing with a weird neighbor, in his mind a stalker, in the middle of a case when he had to keep his mind on data gathering.

  By eight that evening, he’d managed to weed out four hundred and eighty-seven possible juvenile car thieves that fit the criteria. They’d all been caught at fifteen or sixteen years of age and sent to juvie for a few months before getting released. From what he could tell, some had disappeared from the radar.

  Leo composed an email and attached the data, letting Skye and Josh know he was available to discuss the teens who’d made the list.

  His phone rang five minutes after pushing send.

  “Yo,” Leo answered. “I take it you have questions.”

  On the other end of the line, Skye complained, “For starters, there are no addresses. How are we supposed to pick the name that corresponds to the Ames Lake area?”

  Leo chuckled. It wasn’t the first time Skye had questioned his collecting methods. “First, that information came from seven different counties. Second, the addresses of juveniles are redacted. No matter how hard I try, I can’t unlock that part of their record. And third, everybody on that list is at least thirty years old now. The addresses would likely be out of date anyway. The good news is that I was able to find their offenses. Everyone on that list found themselves charged at one time or another with car theft and peeping.”

  “Jeez, I thought that caveat would narrow it down more. But this is the goldmine I’d hoped for,” Skye admitted. “Good work. Get some downtime tonight because we’ll need the team in place as we canvass Ames Lake.”

  “Any news from the drone team?”

  “Not yet. Any way you look at it, sending out drones was always a shot in the dark. We had to try, though. The hard, cold fact is that Emelia’s running out of time.”

  ****

  Skye took that somber statement to bed with her.

  Still wide awake at midnight, she couldn’t get the image of the field out of her head. Bodies decaying in various stages of decomposition weren’t that easy to forget. Even more annoying was the fact that beside her, Josh slept like a bear hibernating through winter, his coma-like state grated like nails on a chalkboard.

  Irritated, she kicked off the covers, jostling the bed in the process, on purpose. It didn’t matter because it didn’t bother Josh in the slightest. After grabbing her phone, she tied the belt on her robe and then tiptoed out into the hallway.

  She made a beeline to Sierra’s room only to find that the child slept as sound as her father. The dogs gave her a brief head lift, a distant sniff, but otherwise ignored her presence before snuggling down into the covers again.

  Further down the hallway, Skye stopped at the guestroom where Zoe slept. But when she cracked open the door, she found the bed empty.

  Skye checked the time on her phone. 12:10. Instead of worrying, her instincts told her Zoe was okay and still with Brayden.

  A good sign the two had decided on a truce.

  Downstairs, she made a stop in the dining room to gather up the stack of folders she wanted to go over again and headed into the kitchen to grab a snack.

  Scouring the fridge, she found a carton of yogurt that should quell the hunger rumbling in her belly and tide her over until breakfast.

  She got comfortable on the sofa in the den where she could read through the files. When she finished with the stack, she reread everything a second time. Grabbing a notepad from the coffee table, she began to put certain details down on paper, rearranging the folders in chronological order.

  She got up twice to add the finer points to the whiteboard. The third time, she studied each narrative. It reminded Skye that DNA tests on the remains would probably take ten days or more to get the results back. While they waited, the team needed to focus on these nine victims and find the common denominator.

  If the man had a second dumpsite, it would complicate things considerably.

  “What are you doing up?” Josh asked with a yawn.

  The question and the voice coming out of nowhere made Skye jump. “Don’t do that. You scared the bejesus out of me.”

  “Sorry. You looked like you were making a few notes.” Josh skimmed the yellow legal pad with pages and pages of handwritten scrawl before going to the sink and filling a glass with water. After quenching his thirst, he studied the additional notations she’d added to the whiteboard. “How many times do you intend to read those files? Hopefully, we’ve found all the victims. Tennison seemed to think we did.”

  “Yes, but Harry said it might take two weeks to get back DNA. We can’t sit around and wait that long, wait until this guy decides to take another girl. We need to ID him. Now.”

  Josh plopped down on the sofa and patted the seat next to him. “We’re not gonna ID him tonight, though. Leo’s data is a lot to wade through. You need sleep in order to stay sharp, so you don’t miss anything.”

  Skye rubbed her forehead and dropped down beside him. “I’ve tried. But every time I close my eyes, I keep seeing what was in that field.”

  “Yeah. I thought Brayden might lose it for sure. But the kid hung in there and stuck it out. Did he mention how Dani was taking it?”

  “We’ll ask Zoe, if and when, she decides to show up.”

  Josh angled his head to look into Skye’s eyes. “You mean she’s still out with Brayden?”

  “Well, she’s not here. Should I send her or Brayden a text to make sure?”

  “Nah, those two can handle themselves. I’d wait until … “

  About that time, they heard the outer door to the mudroom open and close. They were staring in Zoe’s direction when the nineteen-year-old saw them sitting on the sofa.

  “What are you guys doing up? It’s almost one-thirty.”

  “She knows what time it is,” Josh cracked. “How was your date with Brayden?”

  “It wasn’t a date,” Zoe said, pausing, thinking. “Okay, it was. Once it got dark, we packed up the equipment, and I offered him a ride back to his apartment. He invited me in. We’d planned to watch a movie, but we just ended up talking for hours. Have you seen what he’s done to his place? It’s gorgeous, so upscale, and it’s so Brayden.”

  Skye noted Zoe’s face looked flushed and that she’d neatly changed the subject. “I’ve seen his apartment. He’s done a masterful job at taking a small space and bringing it to life. But you’re rambling. Any special reason for that?”

  “No. No. Why?”

  “We were wondering how Dani took the news about not finding Emelia at the site today.”

  Zoe lifted a shoulder. “She called Brayden in the middle of downloading all the images from the drone. He didn’t want to miss anything, so the call went to voicemail. Then later, when he returned her call, she didn’t pick up. So, I’m not sure, but I’d say she was probably disappointed. I think she thought Brayden could single-handedly bring back her cousin. Maybe all of us together would ride in and save Emelia. We didn’t. He’s frustrated that he doesn’t have any news for her. This whole thing is surreal and tragic. It’s left him numb and disillusioned. He said now he knows what you go through every day at the Foundation. So, is that it? Is that all the questions you want to grill me about this time of night. If we’re finished here, I’m going to bed.”
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  “I wish we could have.”

  Zoe turned back. “What?”

  “I wish we could have found Emelia.”

  “It could still happen. We all wish this moved faster. Dani needs to understand that and lay off Brayden.”

  “Go to bed,” Josh told Zoe. “I’m trying to get this one to unwind and go to sleep. You’re just stirring things up again.”

  “Whatever,” Zoe muttered as she took the stairs two at a time.

  While Zoe headed to bed, Skye turned in Josh’s arms. “The truth is we don’t know for certain that he’s finished with Emelia yet. Or how long he generally keeps a victim. There’s still so much we don’t know about this guy.”

  “You’re determined to keep thinking about this tonight, aren’t you? So be it. There is something Brayden said that’s been nagging at me. Maybe the guy we’re looking for does have a connection to Ames Lake, and that’s why he brings his victims back there.”

  “We suspected that already. What are you thinking?”

  “That we check out the residents, past, and present. Maybe a name would match up to one that Leo has on his list. We’re already planning to canvass tomorrow. I say we ask them to think back to any neighbor or family who ever lived there with a son, one who exhibited the usual traits serial killers demonstrate at an early age.”

  “Leo’s already added peeping into windows. But we could pose a question to them about whether anyone ever lived there who tortured animals. Aside from that, I fear that those neighbors seem too tightknit to spill those kinds of details. They don’t strike me as people who would divulge stuff like that. There is another option. We could start with Diane and Gil Monahan.”

  “But they’ve barely lived in the area for five years. What good would that do? As you pointed out, it’s a second home. So they’re only hanging around Ames Lake during the summer.”

  “But they might’ve heard talk about such a problem boy during those five years. You know Gil well enough to talk to him, maybe get him to open up about his neighbors.”

  “When the news gets out about this, Gil may get in touch with me. Harry mentioned that some reporter from the Times was nosing around this afternoon out at the site, said we should expect the write-up to focus on the Foundation and us.”

  ”While I appreciate the publicity, the focus should be on finding Emelia and catching this guy.”

  “The upside is that donations will probably increase. They always do.”

  Skye looked up at the whiteboard. “Looking over those files, I know one thing above all else. The guy doesn’t seem to have a type. Leo mentioned that before. This guy seems willing to kidnap Black, white, Latino, even a Native American equally. If he’s that opportunistic, who says his limit would be two dumpsites? For all we know, he could have a third, or God forbid, a fourth, like Ridgway.”

  “Don’t think like that. Let’s at least enjoy the moment, this one victory. We found nine victims today. Let’s celebrate that for now.”

  “Some victory. Without finding Emelia, you heard Zoe. Even Brayden is disillusioned.”

  “Look, you’ve been doing this long enough to know it takes time and focus.” Josh slid his arms around her shoulders, shifted her body onto his. “Stretch out. Put your head in my lap. I’ll rub your temples. You’re head’s hurting. I can tell.”

  Skye swung out her legs and got comfortable using Josh for a pillow.

  His long fingers massaged her scalp before moving up her neck to the sides of her head. “Is that better?”

  “Mmm, that feels wonderful.” Closing her eyes, she let go of the tension, let go of the stress and let her body relax.

  Within a few minutes, she’d fallen asleep.

  Josh dropped his head back on the cushion, and within minutes, he too had nodded off.

  Eight

  Five hours later, at six-thirty, Sierra scrambled out of bed with the dogs on her heels and headed downstairs. Despite finding her parents sleeping on the couch, she went about the business of letting the dogs out and filling dishes up with dog food.

  The kibbles hitting the stainless-steel dishes made Josh come awake in a hurry. Same with Skye. They bolted upright at the noise, looking around, prepared to do battle. Their only foe was an oversized pillow.

  Zoe took one look at the couple in dazed confusion and busted out laughing. “Guys, go take a shower. I’ll handle breakfast.”

  Josh stood up, rubbing his leg where it had fallen asleep. He helped Skye get to her feet. “One of these days, I’m getting eight hours.”

  “Lot’s of luck with that,” Skye grumbled as she headed to the stairs. “I could use coffee, but I need a hot shower more.”

  “Same here,” Josh added as he made his way behind Skye.

  After they’d disappeared upstairs, Sierra whispered to Zoe, “Are they gone? Do they know about the surprise?”

  “Not yet, Short Stuff. You had to go and wake them up early.”

  Sierra stuck out her lower lip, her mood determined. “Don’t call me Short Stuff. It was my idea.”

  Zoe ruffled the kid’s hair. “You’re right. Sorry. Let’s get busy. I still need to slide the cinnamon rolls into the oven to warm. Everybody will start showing up soon. Then we’ll miss our window.”

  “We shoulda made more cinnamon buns,” Sierra said as she began to drag out the homemade banner that she’d hidden under the counter to hang across the breakfast table. She unfurled the stream of butcher paper with a message in hand-drawn pictures—a silver wolf with two stick-figure crime fighters.

  After putting on the cinnamon rolls to warm, Zoe let the dogs back in and helped Sierra put up the banner.

  Which is the reason Josh and Skye were shocked when they entered the kitchen. “What’s this about?” Skye asked. “Is this for us? I know I didn’t miss a birthday. What did we do to deserve this?”

  Zoe and Sierra clapped their hands together. “Your daughter’s idea to surprise you with a show of support.”

  Sierra beamed at her mother. “Mama, you and Daddy work too hard catching bad guys. But if you didn’t, Zoe wouldn’t be my aunt, and Brayden wouldn’t be here at all.”

  Skye wiped her teary eyes. “Who told you that?”

  “Kiya.”

  “Ah.”

  Josh’s eyes misted over as he picked up his daughter and swung her to his hip. “Kiya told you that?”

  Sierra put both hands on her dad’s face and kissed him. “Yep. Me and Aunt Zoe made you breakfast. Cinnamon buns for working hard.”

  Skye sniffed the air, narrowed her eyes on Zoe. “Let me get this straight. That delicious aroma is coming from something you made?”

  Zoe tilted her head to murmur in Skye’s ear. “Technically, I picked them up yesterday in the bakery department at Whole Foods.”

  “Wherever you got them, they smell delicious,” Skye said, turning to Sierra. “And you drew the pictures and colored this banner all by yourself? What a clever girl you are.”

  “Well, I did it cuz you guys seem sad when you’re working. You need something to cheer you up.” Sierra stopped talking to listen. “Uh-oh. Someone’s on the porch, and we don’t have enough sweet rolls for everybody.”

  Skye frowned and looked at Josh. She checked the door cam on her phone and noticed the camera had been disconnected. “I’ll go.”

  Before she could take a step toward the front room, Kiya growled in warning.

  The deep, guttural sound caused Josh to plop Sierra down on her feet. “Wait here. Stay put,” he said to the tot before turning to Zoe. “See to it she doesn’t follow us.”

  “You got it,” Zoe said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Before getting to the door, Skye looked around for something she could use as a weapon. She picked up a bottle out of the wine rack before heading around the corner into the entryway. Gripping the bottle in one hand, she used the other to flip the deadbolt.

  With Josh behind her, she threw open the door and caught the tail end of a black SUV picking up
speed, careening out of the neighborhood. She didn’t bother with the steps but leaped off the porch to give chase. But it was too late. The vehicle had already disappeared out of sight.

  “Could you make out the plate?” Josh called out.

  “No. I don’t think it had one. We’ll need to pick him up on CCTV, the traffic cam on the bridge. That wasn’t a Range Rover, was it?”

  “Nope. That was an older domestic model, either a Ford Explorer or a Chevy Tahoe.” Josh stepped back and almost tripped over a package—a twelve by twelve box—left on their doorstep. “I don’t think this is from Amazon.”

  Skye hopped back up on the porch next to the box and set down the wine bottle. “That’s what I like about you, keeping your sense of humor when you might be staring at an explosive device.”

  “Nah. Our guy is more likely to send body parts than blow us up.”

  “Did that wisdom come from Kiya or your own keen observation?” Skye asked, taking baby steps around the carton, hands resting on her hips. “When’s the last time we got up close and personal with a serial killer bold enough to send us packages at home?”

  “The farmhouse. That weird dude who sent us a hand.”

  “You’ll have to be more specific. They’re all weird dudes. Over time, they all begin to blur together.”

  “We should get this away from the house to open it up. Now.”

  “Agreed. Damn. I really wanted those cinnamon rolls when they were hot, right out of the oven, and a strong cup of coffee.”

  “I can take care of this. You go eat.”

  Skye narrowed her eyes. “Nope. Get real. We’re in this together. We open it up together. Wait. Why don’t we use the storage shed around back for the unboxing.”

  “That would work. We’ll use gardening gloves to unpack this sucker. We don’t want to destroy evidence,” Josh noted as he began to take photos with his phone. “We’ll make an unboxing video, too.”

  “I’ll go get the gloves and the wagon. Don’t open that thing up until I get back,” Skye warned as she darted around the house and into the backyard.

 

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