The Bone Harvest

by Stacy M Jones

  Luke was surprised. Joe hadn’t mentioned that the last time they got together. “I bet they are happy. How far along is she?”

  “She just confirmed at the doctor. Two months, or so, I think.”

  “What do you think? Should we start trying?” Luke teased her with a half-smile. He wanted to be a dad, and more importantly, he was ready to be a dad. Luke knew whether Riley believed it, or not, she would be a great mom.

  “Not even close to ready for that.” Riley laughed. She reached for him. Luke let himself be pulled on top of her. She kissed him sweetly. His hands roamed over her. She whispered, “We can have all the fun we want pretending to try.”

  Luke groaned. He was going to miss her.

  CHAPTER 13

  After we ate breakfast, Luke hit the road for Fayetteville. I cleaned up the kitchen and threw ingredients in the slow cooker for dinner. Then I grabbed the stack of cases Cooper had given me and another cup of coffee and headed back upstairs to my home office.

  Luke had done a great job of helping me paint and pull the room together after he moved in. I had used it previously as a reading room. There had been a bookcase and chair, but not much else. We had picked out an ocean blue color for the walls, white for the trim and found the perfect white and blue pattern throw rug to cover the cold hardwoods. I accentuated it with some prints on the walls and a comfortable couch and my desk. The bookcase stacked with my favorite reads and investigative books remained.

  I quickly got down to work going through the case files, one by one. I developed a system fairly quickly. I read the pages in each file thoroughly, looked up additional information online, and made calls to universities and police departments to try to find police reports or talk to detectives if any had been assigned.

  I was so comfortable in my office and so engrossed in the work, that when I finally caught sight of the time on my phone, I was surprised that four hours had passed.

  The cases where girls were still missing were much harder to dig up information because many investigations had stalled out completely with no new leads. Some of the detectives had retired or had moved on to other assignments within the departments. Some cases were sitting on cold case shelves. If a body had been found, there was more to go on.

  I had four cases among the ones Cooper had given me where a body was found. One from North Carolina and the other from Washington D.C. were like what had happened with Lily. Only the victims’ skeletal remains were found.

  The cases in Virginia and New York were more interesting because the girls’ bodies were found relatively early and autopsies were completed as well as thorough assessments of the crime scenes. Although from what I could tell so far, the cases were never solved, but at least law enforcement had launched full-scale investigations.

  The most surprising was that the New York case had happened in my hometown of Troy. As I read the internet pages Cooper had pulled, my eyes grew wide in disbelief. I read it a few more times just to make sure. But there it was in black and white. It had to have been in someone else’s pile when we initially went through them because it hadn’t been in mine.

  Back on October 27, 2000, a freshman from Russell Sage College, an all-girls college located in downtown Troy, had gone missing from a house party on Pawling Avenue located in Troy’s Eastside neighborhood. The neighborhood was a mix of stately homes and older well-established residents mixed with Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, known often as RPI, fraternities and university students living in flats, in the many two- and three-family houses that dotted the neighborhood.

  I grew up in the neighborhood. In fact, my mom still owned her house on Locust Avenue. It was the kind of place that, even in high school, I’d felt safe at two in the morning – not that I was ever allowed out at that hour. I was having trouble imagining a serial killer roaming those streets in search of a victim.

  The neighborhood was the last place where freshman Amanda Taylor was seen alive. Her body was found several miles away in Forest Park Cemetery, locally known as Pinewoods Cemetery, because it was located on Pinewoods Avenue. Locals also sometimes just referred to it as the “haunted cemetery” because, by all accounts, it was.

  The more I read about the case, the more it started to come back to me. I had completely forgotten about it. I wasn’t living in Troy when Amanda went missing. I was away at college. It was a few days later when her body had been found by someone walking their dog.

  The cemetery was supposed to be off-limits. It was abandoned and overgrown. But that didn’t stop people from taking a stroll through, or kids getting drunk and seeing how much they could scare each other, lurking among the broken headstones and tall weeds.

  The entrance to the cemetery was hardly an entrance at all. It was more like a warning. It was heavily tree-covered and marked by gravel at the front and then grass. It had no paved road leading in or out. Four white pillars and closed black wrought iron gates marked its entrance. There were no signs or markers to indicate the cemetery name and barely any graves were visible from the road. Pinewoods Avenue itself was just a narrow two-lane road marked by homes and farmland. If a driver blinked, they’d miss passing the cemetery altogether.

  Just beyond the gates stood the only original structure that had been built before the Forest Park Cemetery Corporation went bankrupt in 1914, and the original plans for the cemetery went unfinished. The structure was a receiving tomb made of granite and once featured a copper roof with a large skylight. It had contained 128 marble catacombs and was used for storing corpses during the winter. From the time I was young, all I could ever remember was its creepy dilapidated state. Really it was just a shell with the roof and even the walls gone. Bodies had been buried in the cemetery back to 1856, but by 1975, it was pretty much abandoned. There were close to 1,400 burials there, at least according to records.

  Urban legend and spooky lore were pretty much all I knew about the place. I’d gone in with friends in high school, and we scared ourselves more than anything. Some of the old burial monuments were ornate, but sadly many have been destroyed and vandalized over time.

  Amanda’s body was found propped up against a large gravestone that had a wide granite base. Sitting atop the base was a solid cross with a large sculpted angel in front. The angel had broad intricately designed wings and a flowing dress. Whether it was made that way, or worn over time, the angel was missing its head and right arm, below the elbow. The statue itself was captivating in its realism, but a bit unnerving all the same. Seeing the headless angel would be enough. I couldn’t even imagine the dead body of a young woman propped up against it.

  CHAPTER 14

  Pulling up in front of the Fayetteville Police Department on W. Rock Street, Luke realized he had missed two calls from Riley. Cell service wasn’t the best on the stretch of 1-49 from Fort Smith to Fayetteville. Luke assumed that’s when Riley had called, but calling her back would have to wait.

  Luke couldn’t check into his hotel until at least four in the afternoon. That was fine because he wanted to meet with Det. Gabe Barry before he did anything. Luke got out of his SUV and shifted his bag on his shoulder. He walked confidently into the police station and gave his name at the front desk. The cop directed Luke through the double doors and up the stairs to the detective bureau. He assured Luke that Det. Barry was ready and waiting for him.

  Luke navigated the simple directions with ease. When he got to the top of the wide stairway that led directly into Fayetteville’s detective bullpen, he was surprised by how much it looked like his own office. Several desks sat in the middle of a large room with other more private conference rooms and offices bordering it. A young African-American detective, shorter than Luke by a few inches and far more muscular, walked towards Luke.

  “Det. Barry, I’m Luke Morgan.” Luke extended his hand.

  The detective clasped Luke’s hand in a firm handshake. “Please just call me Gabe. I’m happy to meet you. I’ve looked at your sister’s case a few times before you reached out. It’s
definitely been an interest of mine.”

  “Mine too for years,” Luke admitted, “but there isn’t much to go on.”

  Gabe directed Luke back to his office, which was in the far corner of the room. As Luke entered, he was taken aback by the rows of stacked boxes piled up on all sides. They were evidence boxes labeled with the familiar codes and markers. Gabe pulled three boxes from the pile and put them on a round table he had at the side of his office. He indicated to Luke to take one of the chairs.

  “Do you want to start with the letters?” Gabe asked as he sat down.

  Luke pulled the bagged letters from his brown leather messenger bag and handed them over to Gabe. As Gabe inspected them, Luke explained, “We called Chamblee University and the University of Alabama as well as the local police departments. But not much from either. Chamblee University denies that anything happened. The University of Alabama didn’t have much because that victim wasn’t missing from the university grounds, but rather walking home on city streets. They assume she just ran away. I talked to her father and he said there is no way she ran away. Neither has been heard from again. No bodies ever recovered.”

  Gabe nodded in understanding. Holding up the letter, he asked skeptically, “Any firm confirmation this is real?”

  Luke shook his head. “Other than finding missing girls at both places he said we would, no. My team hasn’t fully confirmed that this is the perp responsible. We felt it was worth exploring though.” Luke wanted to scream that he knew for sure, but had decided on the drive up that a more conservative approach might get him further. But then Gabe surprised him.

  “Don’t tell me what you can prove. What do you really think in your gut?”

  “He’s good for it,” Luke said confidently and relieved. “I have my girlfriend and my best friend, both licensed private investigators, looking into some other similar cases we came across. We are running my sister’s case through ViCAP. My partner will give us a shout if he’s got anything.”

  Gabe read the letters again through the sealed bag. After he finished, he handed them back to Luke.

  “What do you think?”

  Gabe sat back and didn’t say anything for a few seconds. He seemed to mull his thoughts over. Then he said finally, “I feel like it’s credible, but we don’t have a team big enough to investigate them all.”

  Before Luke could say another word, they were interrupted by a knock at the door. A tall, thin man with skin the color of paste, like he’d never seen the sun, stood in the office doorway holding a file.

  Gabe walked over and shook the man’s hand. “Luke, meet Chris Starling. He’s the Washington County Coroner. I asked him to go over the reports on your sister and see if he found anything of interest.”

  Luke got up and shook the man’s hand. He had been hoping to get the medical examiner’s report and bring it back to Ed Purvis, the Pulaski County medical examiner. Luke trusted Purvis far more than anyone in the field.

  “Got anything of interest, Chris?” Gabe asked, as they each took a seat around the table.

  “It seems from the report, all we had was your sister’s skeletal remains. Is that correct?”

  “That’s right,” Luke replied. “I’ve never seen the report, but were there any markings on the bones, anything to indicate— well anything?”

  “Are you aware we didn’t have all her bones? A full skeleton wasn’t found,” Chris explained.

  Luke was caught off guard. No, it wasn’t something he knew or had ever given much thought to. At the time that Lily’s skeleton was found, most of it was intact. Even later when Luke investigated, he had never received any of the records from Washington County so he didn’t know. It was a cold case, and they weren’t willing to give up the reports, even to fellow law enforcement, no matter how hard Luke tried.

  Luke explained, “No, I don’t know that we were ever told that. I’d have to ask my parents though. I was at the police academy when Lily was found. Maybe it was something I missed in conversation, but I feel like I’d remember. What was missing?”

  Holding up his own left hand and pointing with his right index finger, Chris indicated, “Her left hand was missing the bones of her middle, ring and pinkie fingers. What’s most interesting is that there are saw marks on the metacarpal bones that connect the fingers to the hand.”

  “What does that mean?” Gabe asked what Luke was thinking.

  “It looks like someone sawed off her fingers,” Chris said, matter-of-factly.

  Luke tried desperately not to show the emotion that he felt inside. It was a mix of rage and sorrow. This was new information for Luke. It was not something his family was told. He’d have definitely remembered that. Luke hated to think of his sister like this, but if he was going to investigate, he needed professional distance. “Any chance her fingers could have been torn apart by animals or something like that?”

  “No, not at all. There were distinctive serrated cut marks on the bones indicating a saw-like motion. It wasn’t stabbing but rather cutting.” Chris indicated the back and forth motion with his hand.

  “Anything else?” Luke swallowed.

  “No, but the coroner, at the time, took photos as they should have so we have them with the report here. After you review it, if you have more questions, let me know, and I’d be happy to help.”

  Luke extended his hand. “I really appreciate it. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to get this report over the years. This has helped more than you know.”

  Chris shook Luke’s hand, wished him well, and left.

  Gabe turned to Luke. “Not that it means anything, but at least that’s a bit more than we had.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Luke stepped out of the police station after he and Gabe went over the medical examiner’s report on Lily. There had been no more surprises other than what Chris Starling had already told them. Because only Lily’s skeletal reminds were found, the Washington County medical examiner was never able to determine a cause of death so the case had been and remained labeled undetermined, but the fact that his sister’s fingers were missing was new.

  Luke threw his messenger bag in his SUV and stood by the open door. He placed a quick call to his father just to confirm that his parents didn’t already know about Lily’s fingers. His father answered.

  “What’s happening? Is everything okay? I was in the yard with your mother.”

  “Listen, Dad, I’m at the police station in Fayetteville and just met with the medical examiner. I finally have a full report from their office. It’s more comprehensive than the overview they gave us. I have a question though. When Lily was found, did the medical examiner tell you anything about missing bones on Lily’s hand?”

  Spencer didn’t respond right away. With confusion in his voice, he said, “No, not that I recall. They just said that Lily had been found, and all that remained were bones. They matched up dental records for positive identification. Your sister was also found near her purse, which had her wallet and driver’s license. I don’t remember anything about missing bones. I handled all the conversations. Your mother was too upset at the time to speak to anyone.”

  “That’s what I thought because I didn’t remember it either,” Luke said frustrated. “Chris Starling, the new medical examiner, gave me the report that shows photos of the marks on the metacarpals where her fingers were cut off.”

  Spencer asked with hesitation in his voice, “Were the cuts postmortem?”

  “Dad, I don’t know. To get through it, I have to believe they were. The reality is, I don’t think we will ever know, but let’s just assume they were to keep us sane. I’ll call you back as soon as I know more. Hug Mom for me.”

  Luke hung up from his father and immediately called Riley.

  “Hey, sorry I missed you earlier,” Luke said as Riley answered. He walked back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the police station.

  “It’s okay,” Riley said sweetly. “I figured you were busy. I was looking through those case files Cooper
gave us and came across something interesting. I found a case connected to my hometown.”

  Luke stopped pacing. Surprised, he asked, “You mean there was a missing girl from Troy? What university?”

  “Russell Sage, but she didn’t go missing from there. She went missing from a party on the Eastside, actually not that far from my mom’s house. They found this girl’s body…” Riley trailed off. There was the sound of shuffling papers. “They found her days after she went missing in a creepy cemetery about two miles away from where she was last seen.”

  Riley usually had a spot-on memory so Luke was curious that she hadn’t made a connection. He asked curiously, “You didn’t remember this when we started looking at the cases?”

  “No, I was a freshman in 2000 when it happened. I was in Geneseo. I wasn’t even in Troy. I remember my mom talking about it, but I don’t really remember the details. They never solved it. I guess I just stopped hearing about it and forgot.”

  Luke switched the phone from one ear to the other. “You know any of the cops or medical examiner involved?”

  “Nothing I have here says who they are. I’ll make some calls. I was going to do a newspaper search first to see what I can pull up and call my mom and see what she remembers.”

  “Good plan,” Luke said. He looked around to see if anyone was in earshot. He said quietly, “The medical examiner here gave me some new info. My sister was missing three fingers off her left hand when they found her body. Based on knife markings on the bones, they were cut off.”

  “That’s awful,” Riley exclaimed. “Do they have an idea about a cause of death?”