Down Among The Bones

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Down Among The Bones Page 12

by Vickie McKeehan


  “Point taken. We’ll need to talk to Gil then as soon as we get back to Seattle, if for no other reason to eliminate him as a suspect.”

  “Well, duh.”

  “Don’t go snapping at me because we had to send Sierra to Lena and Travis. It wasn’t my fault our serial killer found out where we lived.”

  With a loud grudging sigh, Skye acknowledged the attitude. “I think if we’re unable to move this case forward within the next few days, we go get our daughter back. We’d be able to protect her better here anyway.”

  “Duh.”

  She nudged him in the ribs with an elbow. “Okay, I deserved that. But I just want to point out that I was right about this neighborhood, tightlipped is an understatement.”

  Nine

  While Josh spent the afternoon running down Gil Monahan, Skye and Leo closed themselves off in the study and went over the list of juveniles caught stealing high-end cars and peeping into windows.

  One by one, they eliminated a few who had moved out of state, others who were incarcerated on serious felony assaults, and those who didn’t fit the description on the CCTV.

  “Why are you crossing off the teens described as under five-feet-nine at the time of their arrest?” Leo wanted to know. “I sense a trend in the making. What is that decision based on?”

  “Picked up on that, did you?” Skye muttered, debating whether to mention Sierra’s tall comment. She decided on partial disclosure and added, “Look, I figure he was tall even as a kid. We could run that footage over and over again but just take a gander at how he towers over Emelia at five-two. As a full-grown adult now, his height is significant.”

  Leo reran the video, watching several times before keying in data to determine the kidnapper’s full stature. “The software agrees he’s tall. I’d venture to say he’s at least six-two. So why don’t we get rid of anyone on that list who’s under five-eleven, narrow it down further?”

  “Because this list consists of teenagers. At five-nine, I was allowing for a growth spurt. Generally, males average three inches per year, although it varies.”

  “Ah, I see your five-nine reasoning. At fifteen or sixteen, our guy could still put on six inches in height by eighteen or nineteen. Maybe that’s a reasonable assumption,” Leo mumbled as his dreadlocks moved in rhythm with the keys he tapped until finally, he’d narrowed down the list. “That leaves forty-two repeat offenders who meet a criterion of five-eleven or more beyond the age of sixteen.”

  Skye paced to the window and back. “We don’t even know if he’s on this list.”

  “Since when have you been opposed to this kind of tracking? Sure it’s mostly busy work right now, but we were able to remove a lot of names. That counts for something. If this is about Kiya, I’m fairly surprised you think you need to keep that to yourself. That ship sailed a long time ago. I thought you knew that. We’re all fully aware how influential your spirit guide is in solving these cases. It’s not a secret.”

  “It isn’t that.”

  “Then what are you not telling me?”

  “I had a serious talk with Sierra before she left. Kiya senses a real evil around this man, Have you ever gotten a sense that there’s a darker force at play out there?”

  “Sure. Every case we’re involved in, there’s always some degree of darkness inside these guys. Look at the one in Idaho. We thought Gavin Jaynes was bad until we met his brother, Roman, the man with dead eyes. Dead. Nothing there, no empathy, no feeling, nothing. To me, that’s evil personified.” When Skye didn’t respond, Leo cocked his head. It finally sunk in. “Please tell me you’re not suggesting this is someone beyond evil, more so than Roman Jaynes, the sexual sadist, the killer of little girls.”

  “Define a serial killer exactly,” Skye challenged. “They’re all evil in their own way.”

  “Then what are you talking about?”

  “I haven’t mentioned this to Josh, but there’s a different feeling I get about this guy, almost as though he’s…”

  “Come on. Don’t keep me in suspense. Are you trying to tell me you think he’s special, the darkest evil of all the ones we’ve come up against?”

  “I know we’ve dealt with some nasty killers, but this is different. How did you pick up on the…?”

  “The darker evil thing? Law of averages. I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve been around you and Josh, even Sierra, long enough to get a feeling in my gut that something is unique about this one. I felt that way the minute I saw that circle of hell.”

  Skye frowned at him. “Okay, how long did you intend to keep that to yourself? Because I felt it, too.”

  “I figured as long as you or Josh didn’t bring it up, my gut was wrong. Obviously, you’ve kicked that idea to the curb now.”

  “I don’t think it is wrong, your gut,” Skye admitted. “That day at the ‘circle of hell’ it was like night had fallen. It seemed as though we’d lost the light, and the sun had completely blacked out.”

  Leo had a quizzical look on his face. “It was broad daylight. You didn’t say a word then. And I even kept my eye on you, and sometimes Josh, I forget which, to get your reactions. You should play poker.”

  “Maybe I’ve become hardened to what another human being is capable of doing to their fellow man. No. I didn’t react at the time. I was hoping I was wrong.”

  “Just so we’re clear, define darker evil for me.”

  “Where Roman Jaynes had dead eyes, this guy…his soul is dead. There’s nothing there, Leo. Plus, he’s cunning, smarter than all the others combined.”

  “Hey, nobody is smarter than we are.”

  Skye finally smiled at that. “Damn straight. But how will I be able to explain to Josh the depths to which I feel this guy is superior in all the wrong ways?”

  “I’m surprised you’re asking me. You know why. Because you two are simpatico in every way that counts. How do you know he doesn’t feel it too and hasn’t said anything because he just doesn’t want to scare you?”

  Skye’s shoulders relaxed. “And that’s why I love talking things out with you. Thanks. It makes sense. I should probably lay my cards on the table and see what he says.”

  ****

  Across town, the Monahan’s Seattle home was a contemporary villa, a stately waterfront piece of real estate that butted up against Lake Washington.

  Pacing in the living room, Josh was on the verge of getting snubbed by a guy he’d known since middle school. So far, he’d been staring out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the water for more than an hour, waiting on the man to finish up a crucial overseas call. Or so went the explanation. After arriving, Diane had put in an appearance to add credence to the excuse. But she’d disappeared shortly after that with another story about connecting with an important client.

  Josh wasn’t buying any of it. Mainly because it was Saturday. What was the rush to slink back into town to do business on the weekend? And what multimillionaire didn’t have access to a phone line at his lake retreat? Aside from that, the Monahan’s mansion was silent as a tomb. He could hear no voices coming from the study or the library, which only made him wonder why Gil would go to such lengths to avoid him.

  “Are you sure you want to continue to wait?” Diane asked, popping her head in again. “I’d be happy to have him call you when he’s free.”

  “If I’d wanted to talk to Gil over the phone, I would’ve called. All I’m trying to do is see if he has any information about the dumpsite found on Friday or the bodies left there. You know the one, half a mile or so from your back door? It’s directly in the line of sight from your back door. I need to know if either of you saw anything suspicious recently. Or heard anything out of the ordinary. Were you aware of strangers coming and going near your home in recent months who weren’t supposed to be there? A man who might’ve looked out of place, who didn’t fit into the neighborhood? And how on earth did you miss smelling the foul stench coming from decomposing bodies over the years?”

  Diane lifted her
chin ever so slightly at the insinuation. “I assure you I can answer for him. The truth is we’ve seen nothing strange.”

  “Then why did you pack up and leave your summer home to head back to Seattle the minute you heard the news on TV?”

  The look on Diane’s face said she took the comment as an insult. “We did no such thing. We’d planned to leave today anyway. Where are you getting such nonsense? It doesn’t matter, because frankly, we don’t have to answer any of your questions. We know our rights. We’re lawyers for God’s sake.”

  “Is that your official response? Because if it is, I’m contacting the lead detective in charge of this case and putting your names at the top of the suspect list. His name is Tennyson.”

  “We were concerned for our safety as would any normal, clear-thinking person feel if they’d found bodies nearby. But why on earth would you question Gil or me about such sordid business? Just because we returned to our house is no excuse for your rudeness. Our work is here in the city. Besides, it’s our right not to answer your silly questions no matter what kind of friend you were to us in the past. It’s ridiculous for you to think Gil had anything to do with…bodies. I’d like you to leave now.”

  “Sure. No problem. But the next time you’re looking for a donation to your off-the-wall charity, don’t expect a contribution from me. Remind me again about your foundation’s purpose. Oh, that’s right, you supposedly help kids with cancer. I did a little research before I left the house. I should’ve done it long ago. The results make me wonder if your donors know that your organization never quite meets the Federal requirement to hand over five percent of your endowments each year. Last I checked your charitable foundation was down to giving two percent. Do your donors know that you and Gil invest the other ninety-eight percent in Wall Street to maintain and fatten up your so-called cash cow? That’s money the kids never see. That’s what I’m wondering right about now, Diane. Do your donors know those kinds of details?”

  By the look on Diane’s face, Josh could see he’d hit a nerve. “That’s okay, Diane. No need to see me out. I’m perfectly capable of finding the front door on my own. Be sure to give Gil my regards.”

  Having said what was on his mind, he strolled out of the room and headed down the foyer, a long hallway with marble floors that extended thirty feet to the front door. Before reaching for the knob, a sense of déjà vu overcame him. He heard a roaring in his ears right before the noise turned to a thunderous loud rumbling behind him. He felt razor-sharp claws grazing his flesh, pulling him down, talons working their way across his back, ripping his skin to shreds.

  For a few seconds, he lost his balance. He fought to open the door. When he did manage to throw it open, he stepped out onto the veranda into summer sunshine and calm. Gasping for air, he grabbed his chest and looked up to see Skye running toward him.

  “What did they do to you in there?” she screeched out in alarm.

  He bent down, put his hands on his thighs to catch his breath, and felt Skye stretch her arms around his rib cage for support.

  She held him upright, kept him from falling down face first on the manicured, putting-green, well-kept lawn. “For God's sake, what happened in there?”

  “Nothing,” he whooshed out, doing his best to gulp for air. “It’s just…I feel sick. I felt like a violent force had hold of me, pulling me back, holding me in place to keep me from leaving. It was all I could do to break away and get outside. Whatever it was didn’t want me to leave.”

  “A violent force? Darker evil?” she muttered. “Do you think Gil could be our guy?”

  “I don’t know. I never got past the living room. Gil refused to come out of his hidey-hole, refused to speak to me man to man.”

  “You don’t think that’s weird?”

  Instead of answering, something else dawned on him. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “Judy brought me.” She pointed to the Honda Accord at the curb where Judy sat behind the wheel, her cell phone glued to her ear. “She’d planned to drop me off, but when she spotted you on the steps, in some distress I might add, I jumped out and told her to wait.”

  When he finally stood to his full height, she took his chin. “You’re white as a sheet, Josh.”

  “I’ve never felt anything so…”

  “Malevolent? Evil?”

  “Yeah. Either one of those fit.”

  “We need to talk. I’ll send Judy on her way, and I’ll drive you home. Unless you need to make a stop at the ER?”

  “No. No, I’m fine. The entire thing took me by surprise.”

  “We can’t let our guard down like that again. And just so you know, your friend Gil Monahan just went to the top of the list. How tall is he, by the way?”

  “How tall? Six-two. Thereabouts. I guess. Why?”

  “Could you take him in a fight?”

  “What? Uh. Yeah. Why?”

  “Let’s get out of here. I’ll go over everything in the van.”

  ****

  Freeway traffic was at a standstill while Skye hashed out the same belief she’d gone over with Leo. “The guy we’re after is evil personified. I know they say that about every serial killer on TV. But this one is different. When was the last time you felt evil like you did at the Monahans? And what’s up with that anyway? Were you picking up on a vibe from them, specifically Gil, or were you picking it up from someone who had been inside their house?”

  “Good question. How do I answer that? Unless you’ve pegged this guy as some sort of a Grim Reaper who kills at will, it could be an associate of Gil’s. If you felt like that yesterday at the dumpsite, why didn’t you say anything then?”

  “Because our priority was locating Emelia. And I had hoped that I was misreading the signals from Kiya. But after talking to Sierra, I knew. And our daughter knows as well. She’s not only tuned in to the wolf spirit, she’s worried about us out there on the battlefield.”

  “That can’t be good for a four-year-old.”

  “Once again, personal lives intersecting with everything else we do. Locating a victim, finding a killer important, but to what sacrifice. Look, we’ve done it before many times, and we’ll do it again for the greater good. But I don’t like the idea of Sierra becoming a conduit for us to use whenever this comes up. We need to get Kiya to communicate with us, not our daughter.”

  “I just got a pretty clear message through Kiya—it almost brought me to my knees. Kiya wouldn’t do that to a child. There’s value in knowing that. You’re just pissed because Kiya passed you over.”

  “Maybe I am. But learning to share is hard,” Skye cracked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You’ve had years to get used to the idea,” Josh fired back, equally light in his reply. “The three of us share a spirit guide. Get over it.”

  “That’s telling me,” Skye said, sarcasm dripping from the tone. “Look, I know the wolf came through when it counted back at the circle of hell. She led us right to it.”

  Josh sat up straighter in the passenger seat. “The what?”

  “That’s what Leo came up with.”

  “The circle of hell. Not bad.”

  Skye rolled her eyes. “Continuing on, I guess I’ve been trying to absorb Harry’s news and having trouble with it. What threw me the most is learning about the six men, completely obliterating our profile, showcasing how we wasted two days of valuable time. That’s not like us, Josh.”

  “Look, we found his circle of hell less than twenty-four hours after he came on our radar. He’s been at this for five years, maybe longer, we’ve been aware for less than seventy-two hours. I’d say that’s progress. Let’s give ourselves a break and just catch this beast.”

  When Skye pulled the minivan onto their street, she spotted an unmarked police cruiser parked at the curb in front of the house.

  Josh unbuckled his seat belt. “That’s Dave Foley’s Impala, right?”

  “Sure looks like it. What do you suppose he wants?”

  “Probably an upd
ate. Should we tell him about Gil?”

  “Your friend, your call. But we have nothing on the guy unless we do a deep dive into his business.”

  “I’m reading between the lines and seeing Leo doing just that.”

  “You deal with Foley. Please. I want to call Zoe and see if they made it to The Painted Crow without incident.”

  By the time Josh entered the house and located Detective Foley, the man was surveying their command center. The guy stood in front of the whiteboard, reading off the information on each victim. “What can we do for you, Dave? Please tell us you’ve located Emelia.”

  “Wish I could, but no. I was hoping you could give me your insight.”

  “The guy you’re looking for is tall, probably six-two. He prefers SUVs with all-wheel-drive because it gets him to his remote dumping grounds. He’s above average in IQ and is a meticulous planner.”

  “Wait. Back up. Did you say dumping grounds as in more than one?”

  “That’s right. He uses more than one, puts certain victims in one spot, others in another. And before you ask, I have no idea what separates the two. At least not yet. I’m sure you’ve learned by now he has six male victims in addition to three females. Add Cassie Arnett to that, and maybe the girls listed on that board, and you’re looking at a very busy guy.”

  “So you’re saying these eight young women on the board are probably at this unknown, second dumpsite?”

  Josh stuck his hands in his pockets and roamed the room. “There’s a high degree of probability. We have drones out now looking, searching the corridor off I-90 East.”

  Dave cocked a brow. “Why Bundy’s old stomping ground?”

 

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