The Bone Harvest

by Stacy M Jones

  “When was the very last time you saw Amanda?” I asked.

  Shawn looked me dead in the eyes. “We were arguing on the front lawn. I thought she was flirting with one of her professors. I saw them a couple of times in downtown Troy. I had heard rumors, too. I thought maybe they were having an affair or something. I didn’t like him. I didn’t like my girlfriend flirting with another guy.”

  The three of us exhaled loudly at nearly the same time. It was a familiar story. I was about to ask for the name when Jack spoke first.

  “I reread your statement before coming today. You didn’t mention anything like that back then. Why the change?” Jack asked accusingly.

  Shawn shrugged. “Age, I guess. Perspective. I was embarrassed then. I had an ego. I didn’t want to admit I was even worried about my girlfriend cheating on me. The fight wounded my pride.”

  “And now?” Frank pressed.

  “It’s not about me,” Shawn admitted. “It never was. I’ve regretted that fight every day since then. I was a stupid kid. I was arrogant. It took me several years to grow up.”

  “Where were you after the party ended? We can account for you later in the evening. Your fraternity brothers saw you there, but what about when everyone went to sleep?”

  “I crashed, too. It had been a long night.”

  I believed Shawn. His body language was open. He answered questions directly. There was nothing about him that indicated he was lying or trying to withhold information. We were on a fishing expedition with the wrong man, and I hoped it ended soon. All I wanted was the name of the professor, but Frank and Jack pressed on before I could get a word in.

  “When did you know that Amanda was missing?” Frank asked.

  “Sometime the next day best I can remember. I tried to call her. I got one of her friends who told me Amanda never came home. I went down there to her dorm immediately. I searched the campus. I looked all over, talked to every friend.”

  Shawn got choked up. His voice was cracking. “When the news broke that her body had been found, it destroyed me. I stopped going to classes. I had to go to counseling. I was a mess.”

  Frank started to speak but my frustration hit a level that I couldn’t contain myself anymore. “Who was the professor that you thought was flirting with Amanda?”

  “Michael Bauer. Amanda wasn’t the only girl he flirted with, but he paid particular attention to her.”

  “Do you think he could have taken her?”

  A light went on behind his eyes. Shawn sat on the edge of the couch. “Is that who you think did this? I never put it together, but yeah, I do. He lives in Troy, you know? There was a rumor at our frat that his house had a skeleton dressed as a woman in the basement. He was a creep.”

  “What?” I asked incredulously.

  “Years before Amanda was murdered, a couple of frat brothers broke into his house, that creepy white one, up on the hill. In the basement, they saw a skeleton in a woman’s dress. They all thought it was like a Halloween decoration or something, but one of the guys was positive it was real.”

  CHAPTER 67

  Before we left, Shawn explained the story or at least lore he had heard about Michael Bauer. It was Michael’s parents who had owned that house where he lived. His father was a professor at one of the local universities. Shawn wasn’t sure which one. His mother had passed away when Michael was young. His father had died when he was off at university. As the only heir, the house was his. Michael had been living in it for years.

  Shawn Westin explained that the man was a bit of an enigma. There was a story once passed around that he had been engaged in college, but the woman had broken his heart. Other than flirting with university-aged girls Shawn said no one ever saw him with women. They wondered if he had any friends at all because on the few occasions they saw him in Troy, he was always alone.

  I found it strange that a group of fraternity brothers would know so much about a local so I had pressed Shawn for understanding. He explained that one of the fraternity brothers, who had grown up in Troy, wanted to see the inside of the house. When Michael was out of town, they broke in. It was a dare to check out the house. What they found had left them all freaked out. Both the house and its owner had become the basis for passed down lore and speculation.

  It was the first I had ever heard the story, but it wasn’t surprising. Growing up, I had no idea who owned the house, but it sat back on the hill behind its wrought iron fencing screaming to be explored by nosy residents of our community.

  The skeleton in the basement, however, was a bit surprising. I didn’t recall the house ever being decorated for any holiday other than Christmas. I certainly never went to the house at Halloween. I would have remembered that. I’d have to ask my mother if she had ever heard a similar story.

  “I thought I saw women’s things on a shelf in the basement,” I admitted once we were back in the car.

  Jack turned abruptly. “What do you mean you saw women’s things in the basement? I told you to wait for me.”

  “I know but you were busy so I just checked it out. He wasn’t home.”

  “He could have been. If you really think Michael Bauer is the killer that was a really risky stupid move,” Jack admonished. He turned back and focused on the road, leaving me feeling like a kid who had been scolded.

  “I think that’s the point, Jack. We don’t know if he’s the killer or not. If he is, we can’t approach him like that. It will spook him and scare him off.”

  “What do you mean?” Frank asked.

  I tried to find a way to explain so they’d understand. “The killer wants to play a game. That’s why he sent the letters to Luke. He wants to show he’s smarter than everyone. The killer has an above-average intellect. That was obvious in the letters, and he’s gotten away with this for so long. Not to mention, he sent Luke on a wild goose chase in Fayetteville while he was killing in Little Rock. I don’t think there is anything about this he hasn’t planned.”

  I paused for a second to see if they had questions. I went on, “If Michael Bauer is the killer, we can’t go to him like he is. We have to approach him and act like we need his help. We need to act like we need his intellect to sort through something. Even at that, he might see through it. No matter what, I want to see what’s in that basement.”

  “How do you propose we do that?” Jack asked. “We can’t get a search warrant.”

  “I don’t know yet,” I admitted. My phone buzzed in my pocket just as we were pulling into my driveway. It was Cooper. I’d have to call him back.

  As the car came to a stop, I asked, “Can we agree that we don’t think Shawn Westin had anything to with Amanda’s death?”

  The two looked at each other. “I don’t think he did,” Frank said.

  Jack added, “He’s either an exceptional liar and threw us Michael Bauer to redirect us or he’s telling the truth. I’m inclined to believe him. He had a very short window to do anything.”

  “Let’s not forget my sister believes she saw the victim get into another car as she walked along the road so that certainly fits with what Shawn said happened. They fought outside. He went up to his room and Amanda left. It fits.”

  “What’s our next step?” Jack asked, turning around in the car to look at me.

  “I want to know more about Michael Bauer. I want to know his background. He has a website. I want to see if any of the universities he’s taught at were a match to years a victim was killed. Then I think we pay him a visit.”

  Frank offered, “I can easily check Virginia and see if he was at any of the local universities during the time our victim was killed.”

  “Did you say he was a lecturer during the summer and fall?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, he’s basically an expert in the Civil War. He’d go to a university and set up a lecture series. He’d be there for a short period of time. His bio said he uses the winter and spring to work on research. If he’s the killer, he’s got the whole summer to know the lay of the land. He can
easily scope out incoming freshmen at orientation.”

  Jack turned to Frank. “When you call around to ask about Michael Bauer, also ask what lecturers they had for that summer and fall. We don’t know if he always used his real name. This way, we can assess who was there, even if they don’t have anyone by his name.

  “That’s a great idea.” We planned to meet in the morning. We all had research assignments. Jack was also going to think through a solid plan for getting into Michael’s basement.

  “Tell your mother I’ll call her later,” Jack said as I put my feet to the pavement.

  I entered the house through the front door. Dusty met me at the door wiggling around at my feet. My mother and sister were in the kitchen. Their voices were light and full of laughter. The scent of warm chocolate filled the house.

  “I’m home!” I yelled as I made my way through the hallway, pulling my sweater over my head and tugging my tee-shirt back down over my tummy. My mother had cranked up the heat. “What smells so good?”

  My sister held up a messy chocolate croissant. “I found a new recipe I wanted to try. It’s kind of like breakfast for dinner. They don’t look so good, but they taste delicious.” She took another bite of the pastry.

  My mother gave me a hug. “There’s real food for dinner if you’re hungry. How’s the case going?”

  I eyed her suspiciously. She normally hated my work. I said tentatively, “It’s okay. I think we might have a good lead or two.”

  My mother sat back down at the table with my sister. I fished around in the fridge pulling together some leftovers. My mother noted, “Jack said you’ve been working really hard. I don’t love what you do, but he says you’re good at it.”

  I smiled at her. “He’s mellowing you in your old age.”

  She threw a dishtowel at me. “I like having you here. If I argue with you, you’ll leave.”

  “That’s true.” I finished making my plate. Liv devoured another chocolate croissant. “Mom, what do you know about the house on the left as you turn onto Route 2 from Pawling? The white one that sits back up on the hill.”

  “I know that family has been strange since the day they bought that house in the sixties. There have always been stories about them. What do they have to do with anything?”

  CHAPTER 68

  Luke never finished his research the night before because his father had called and asked him to stop by the house. Dinner had been waiting for him when he arrived after work. His mother had cooked especially for him. She wanted to ensure Luke had a homecooked meal. He appreciated it more than he could express.

  After dinner, Spencer had taken a serious turn. He had pressed Luke about the progress in the case, and more importantly, how he was doing. Luke assured both his parents that the case was going better than expected and that he was fine.

  Spencer had reminded Luke that therapy was still an option. Luke had sat stone-faced and listened. He wouldn’t disrespect his father, but Luke didn’t need the reminder. He still carried the shame of having to go to therapy the first time. He knew everyone needed a mental health checkup now and then. Luke knew how important mental health was and that there was nothing wrong with therapy. He knew all that. He’d even encouraged guys he worked with to see a therapist. He encouraged Riley last year, too. He just felt foolish that he had been so weak that he needed to go.

  It galled Luke that he had become so laser-focused on bringing his sister’s killer to justice that he had worried his friends and family, enough so, that they thought he needed a break and to talk to someone. Luke was forced to go. The police department hadn’t given him the option. Luke would like to say that he learned more about himself or got some great coping skills. He didn’t. He participated fully. He talked, listened and shared. He walked away feeling the same. Something did change though. Luke made the decision then and there that he’d hide his desire to catch the killer better than he had prior, and that’s exactly what he had done for the last five years.

  After Luke assured his parents, he went home. He barely made it in the door before his eyes closed. He crashed hard. Luke didn’t even have a chance to call back Cooper or Riley.

  After arriving at the station the next day, Luke sat at his desk staring at Katie’s cellphone trying to think of a reason why she’d need to text the killer. The cellphone company had sent Luke a readout of her texts earlier that morning. If Luke was going to pull it off, he’d have to pretend to be her. The Professor wasn’t stupid. Luke was sure the killer would know a fake.

  All Luke needed was a few messages, and they’d be able to trace the cell tower location. Some research into the number showed it was from a common cell provider. It was a pay as you go phone so personal details would be missing. Luke contacted the company and worked with them to ping the phone’s location. The data he had received so far was just as he suspected. When the killer was texting Katie, he had been in Little Rock and in the Hillcrest neighborhood where he had mailed the letter. The phone was not pinging now at all. The company suspected the user had either ditched the phone or disabled it. Luke hoped not.

  Luke needed an up-to-the-minute location. Getting the killer to communicate was the best way to do that so they could ping the location in the present time. Luke jotted down some practice notes on what to write in the text.

  Det. Tyler read over the text messages, too, to see if there was anything relevant, but most of the texts had been exactly as Katie had described. Actually, she had been more honest about the texts than Luke had given her credit for. Luke better understood why she complied. The guy came across like a complete psychopath.

  Luke cleared his throat. “You think if I pretend to be really angry that he killed my friend that he’d respond?”

  Det. Tyler looked up from the pages he was reading. “Possibly. You really think he’s going to care?”

  “He might care if she gets agitated enough she might tell someone. I want to hint around that without saying it. I don’t want to put her in danger.”

  Tyler shrugged. “Try it. Let’s see if you can pull off being an eighteen-year-old girl.”

  Luke shot him a look, but Tyler just laughed. Luke wrote a text, deleted it and wrote it again. He wanted to misspell something, but the words were simple. The text read: You killedCristina! I’m in trouble. What do I do?

  Luke didn’t expect an immediate response, but he still watched the screen carefully for a few minutes. Finally, he set that phone down and picked up his own to call Cooper. It rang a few times before he answered.

  “Hey, man, sorry I missed you yesterday. How’s it going in Atlanta?”

  Cooper excused himself to someone on the other end and then responded. “Good. I’m running down a few leads. I think I know how the killer got the victim out of the library.”

  Luke listened while Cooper laid out all of the information he had found, including the information on Michael Hayes, his connection to other schools, and the ease with which one could take someone from the library without being seen.

  When Cooper was done Luke asked, “Is that the only viable suspect?”

  “Yes. I have no other leads to go on. It’s been too much time. Hope was one hundred percent credible in my view. I only wish someone had believed her back then.”

  “Have you spoken to Riley?”

  “She hasn’t called me back. She find anything yet?”

  “Riley’s got a Michael Bauer she’s interested in for the case up there. Nothing credible so far. I don’t even know if she’s spoken with him. Michael is a common name, but worth cross-referencing with her. The Professor could be going by an alias.”

  “I’ll call her again. If we’re running down the same guy we might as well work together.”

  “Are you staying in Atlanta?” Luke asked absently. He checked Katie’s phone again to see if the killer had responded. The phone remained silent.

  “I don’t know,” Cooper said.

  Luke caught some hesitation in his voice. “Is there a reason to stay?�
��

  “I umm…” Cooper’s voice cracked.

  “Out with it.”

  Cooper exhaled loudly. “I seem to have some chemistry with the victim’s sister. It’s weird. We are nothing alike, but we’ve kind of bonded. Nothing has crossed a line. I just want to make sure she’s good with me leaving now. I’ve been a support to her while I’ve been here.”

  Luke chuckled. He’d always known Cooper to avoid commitments with women. His friend prided himself on being able to detach. Where Luke admittedly wore his heart on his sleeve, Cooper’s emotions remained behind a fortress. To hear Cooper even think about asking a woman if she was good with him leaving amused Luke. “I think you should do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

  “Yeah, I might, but I’m going to check with Riley, too, and see if she needs anything.” Cooper said goodbye.

  Luke remembered something. “Coop, any chance you know what the home of Uncle Sam means?”

  “Riley could tell you. The home of Uncle Sam is Troy. She knows history better than I do. Why?”

  Luke’s mouth fell open. Could the killer really be from Riley’s hometown? Before Luke could respond, Katie’s phone chimed. “I have to go, Coop. I’ll call you back.”

  Luke hung up his cell and picked up Katie’s phone from his desk. He held it in his hand for a moment before reading the text. He was immediately disappointed. It was a text from one of Katie’s friends. Luke shook it off. He got a lead from Cooper. That would have to be enough for now.

  He called Riley immediately, but it went straight to voicemail.