Secret is in the Bones (Paynes Creek Thriller Book 3)

by Heather Sunseri

  “Okay,” I said. “We have several good theories that can be examined as additional forensic evidence comes in, but the bottom line right now is that you have evidence that another man was at the scene. What’s the status of the DNA test?”

  “The state lab knows we need it yesterday.”

  “Hopefully, that information will identify your new number one suspect. That, along with the fact that an actual calling card was left at the scene tying the murder to three others, will likely change the direction of the investigations.”

  “Three?” Chief McCracken asked.

  “That’s right,” Detective Fish confirmed. She went on to tell the group what she knew about the murder of Darren Murray from Colorado. And Agent Thomason said we would bring the SAC from the Denver office and the county sheriff from where Murray lived into the conversation as soon as possible.

  “But the same symbol on those two calling cards was carved into the chest of the victim in Colorado,” Detective Fish said. “That’s all I have for now.”

  “Thank you, Detective.” Agent Thomason stood. She presented the evidence that we had in the case of the warden’s wife’s overdose and explained how the warden claimed that the Whiskey Mafia prison gang had claimed responsibility for her death.

  Coop explained what we knew about Whiskey Mafia, including the threat we received via Alice, and how we learned about the skull and crossbones symbol.

  “You’re saying that she actually allowed someone to carve that symbol into her back?” Detective Fish asked.

  “She seemed almost proud of it,” I said.

  Detective Fish seemed to curl her nose. “I will never say, ‘I’ve seen it all,’ because I know the minute I do, something like that surprises me.”

  “So, what’s everyone’s gut feeling?” Agent Thomason asked. “Is the same person behind all of the murders?”

  “Or is the Whiskey Mafia calling the shots, with different people committing each crime?” Detective Fish asked. “The big question in the case of multiple suspects would be motive.”

  “A gang doesn’t necessarily have to have a motive for murder,” Coop said. “Sometimes their reason for killing is to send a message. Sometimes it’s revenge. Sometimes it’s to prove they have power, like in the case of the warden’s wife.”

  “I just want to know why some prison gang is terrorizing my town,” Chief McCracken said.

  I’d been staring at the evidence board the entire time that Coop spoke. He presented information I already knew, so I found my mind wandering from victim to victim on the board when he was speaking.

  “It’s not personal to Paynes Creek,” I mumbled.

  “Excuse me?” the chief responded, irritated.

  “It’s not personal to your town, but to a member of your community.”

  “Care to explain?”

  I stood and walked over to the board. My heart was racing as certain aspects of each case became clear, while other details made even less sense. I pulled the tack from Faith’s picture and moved her photo to the top of the board, tacking it directly in the center.

  “Faith Day stayed in Antonito, Colorado, this past winter at the Mountain View Dude Ranch. That’s where she met Darren Murray.” I stretched a piece of orange string from Faith’s tack to Darren’s. “A photograph of Murray and Day was found inside the home of Steven and Penelope Champagne. To most people, it looked like a photograph of a happy couple that Day might have given to her best friend.”

  “But Penelope claimed she’d never seen the photo or the rustic picture frame before,” Detective Fish pointed out. “And, not that this means much, the picture frame didn’t match anything Penelope would have owned.”

  “Day said the only person who would have had a copy of that photo would have been Murray,” I added. “I’ve been to the Mountain View Dude Ranch. That picture frame had a very rustic feel to it—like something Murray might display at his Colorado home.” I stretched yellow string from Faith to Darren to Penelope and Steven.

  “When I interviewed Day,” Detective Fish said. “She explained that she was shocked to see the picture at her friend’s house, and she confirmed that she never sent anyone the photo of her and the deceased. She also claimed that she had never talked about Murray with the Champagnes and that it was highly unlikely that either of the Champagnes could have known Murray.”

  “Day was at the funeral last night,” Chief McCracken said, referring to Faith by her last name, but then reverted to using her first name, showing the personal nature of this case to him. “But she would be. Penelope considers Faith her best friend.”

  “And several witnesses claimed that Day had an argument with Paula Shepherd less than an hour before Shepherd’s body was found,” Detective Fish said. “Also, according to Miss Shepherd’s friend, Rhonda Blake, Day and Miss Shepherd argued in the middle of a grocery store on Saturday night.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Detective Fish. This was the first I was hearing of this confrontation.

  “Faith has an alibi.” Chief McCracken said.

  “Yes.” Detective Fish agreed, flipping through her notes. “She was in one of the back rooms with Penelope. Several people saw both of them exit that room moments before Shepherd’s body was discovered.”

  “Which means Penelope has an alibi, as well,” Coop added.

  “But Day’s still tied to the victim,” Agent Thomason said.

  I followed her line of sight, then I grabbed a piece of green string and hooked it from Faith to Miss Shepherd. “Yes, that was my point. Faith Day is tied to at least three of the murders. Everyone except the warden’s wife.” I faced the group again to study their faces as I presented my theory. “But… What if Faith is the target in a roundabout way?”

  “Go on.” Agent Thomason urged.

  “Another man died in Colorado that is not on this board. A night watchman, named Cary something, who worked for Murray.”

  “When was this? Why is this the first we’ve heard of him?” Agent Thomason asked.

  “Because this man’s death was ruled a suicide. It happened while I was visiting Faith back in the winter. She told me that she hadn’t gotten along with this night watchman—that he had ‘jokingly’ put his hands around her neck on one occasion. She made it very clear that touching her in any way was unacceptable.”

  “I’d have kneed him in the balls,” Detective Fish said, then apologized for the offhanded remark.

  “My point is,” I continued. “Faith had a confrontation with this man. Soon after, he was found dead with a gunshot wound to the head. Authorities called it a suicide.”

  “We should call the authorities out there and—”

  I lifted a hand to cut Agent Thomason off. “I already did. They closed the case and cremated his body.”

  “So, that’s a dead end,” Detective Fish said.

  “Yes, but it adds to the theory that someone is watching Faith. What if someone killed the night watchman after witnessing him assault Faith? And then killed Miss Shepherd for a similar reason.”

  “Okay, then why kill Steven Champagne?”

  I turned and stared at the wall. “I’m not sure. And I have no idea how it ties to the murder of Betty Parrish.”

  Unless, I thought, Ethan Gentry is the common link and Faith was correct all along that he’d been following her around the country.

  No, I corrected myself. He had an alibi for at least the two murders last Friday, and possibly the murder of the night watchman, according to the friend I’d hired to keep an eye on him.

  But not for Betty Parrish.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  FAITH

  I stood under an enormous, hundred-year-old oak tree on a hill overlooking the gravesite where Steven Champagne would soon be laid to rest.

  Rain threatened in the distance, along with a low grumble of thunder, making me grateful I’d decided on the black pants, black boots, and a long, black trench coat.

  People were still arriving. Having a moment before the se
rvice, I pulled my phone from my pocket and made the phone call I’d been putting off but needed to make if I wanted to live in Paynes Creek for the foreseeable future.

  And I did want to live in Paynes Creek—to be a part of my nephew’s life and help my aunt make sure Oliver was raised in a loving home, despite being the product of bad parents.

  But I also wanted to eliminate some of the fears that forced me to flee my hometown a year ago. I knew Luke would work to solve the murders plaguing Paynes Creek, but there was something I could do at the same time. I needed to confront my former stepbrother. I wanted him to look me in the eye and tell me that he isn’t seeking revenge against me.

  He said he’d forgiven me a year ago, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was responsible for stalking me across the country.

  I lifted the phone to my ear after placing the call to Ethan, just as Coop and Luke pulled up in Luke’s black SUV and parked behind a line of cars. When they’d exited the truck, Coop walked over toward Lil, who had saved a seat for him in one of the folding chairs. Luke seemed to scan the crowd. When he spotted me, he gave me a quick wave, then continued to study the crowd gathering for the service.

  Who was he looking for? I wondered.

  On the eighth ring, just as I was certain the call would kick over to voicemail, Ethan answered. Before actually saying hello, he yelled to someone to “just set the boxes in the storage room.”

  “Hi, Ethan,” I said.

  There was a moment of silence before he said, “Faith?”

  Luke stopped surveying the crowd and began walking toward me, carrying an umbrella at his side.

  Thunder rumbled again in the distance, and a cool breeze carried the smell of coming rain.

  “Yeah, it’s me. I only have a second. I need to see you.”

  “Name the time and place, and I’ll be there.” Why did his voice still make my heart tighten? We had been best friends once. He knew everything about me from that time in my life. I’d go as far to say that I hadn’t had a best friend like him since.

  But best friends didn’t do what Ethan did to me.

  “I know this is short notice,” I continued. “But would today or tomorrow work? I can come to you, or you could meet me at the farm.”

  “I’ll come to your place,” he said. “I can be there at 3:30.”

  “Thank you.” I hung up and slid my phone in my pocket.

  While Luke looked handsome in his dark gray suit, it was the navy tie with small, single rocks cocktail glasses evenly spaced on it that completed the look.

  I placed a hand over my heart as he approached, massaging the lingering effect of talking to Ethan, but also realizing that Luke took my breath away almost every time I saw him. Maybe one day I would actually tell him that.

  Maybe I wouldn’t.

  He stepped to me and gently kissed my cheek as his breath warmed my ear. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, then drew back. “Who were you talking to?”

  I gave my head a shake. “No one important.” I tried to keep my voice light and airy. “Did you have a good morning?”

  “Productive,” he said. The lines that formed in the “v” between his eyes told me he had a lot on his mind.

  “Are you going to clue me in?”

  “Yes, but not here. Are we still babysitting tonight?”

  I shot him a look. “I am spending the evening with Oliver, yes.”

  “Good. After we’ve put the little guy down, you and I need to talk.”

  “What if Oliver and I don’t want you there?”

  Luke cocked his head and smiled. “Honey, please,” he said with a little twang in his voice. “You might act like you don’t want me there, but it would be just that—an act. Oliver, though? He would never turn down a visit from Uncle Luke.”

  I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face even as I rolled my eyes. But it was true. Anyone could see the special connection Luke and Oliver had.

  The minister began to speak as lightning flickered in the distance. “Do you want to grab a seat?” Luke asked.

  “Do you mind if we just listen from here?” I asked softly.

  “I don’t mind,” he said. He seemed tense, a steady current of nervous energy pulsing just below the surface of his skin. I recognized the look of someone who was thinking hard about a troubling case.

  I slipped my hand into his, looked up at him. He met my gaze doe-eyed, surprised that I would initiate the physical contact.

  As the minister spoke about the life of Steven Champagne, I tried to escape to another place inside my head, warding off feelings of my own grief as if I were living it now.

  “Hey,” Luke said. “You don’t have to stay for this. Penelope knows you’re here for her. Don’t put yourself through this.” He’d gotten to know me this past year on a deeper level than I ever thought possible.

  “I would like to leave,” I whispered.

  “Did you drive here?”

  I nodded. “You stay. I know you’re working. I’ll talk to you later.” I stood on my toes and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

  He let my hand slip from his, and I headed for my own vehicle. Thankfully, I’d gotten here early and parked in a way that I couldn’t get blocked in.

  When I was behind the wheel, the sky began to open up, and the rain fell in sheets.

  Thunder boomed as I arrived home, and as I got out of the car and ran for my Airstream, lightning streaked through the sky.

  But as I approached my front door, I stopped when I noticed a banner stretched across the front of the trailer, just under a large awning protecting it from the rain, that said in bright, colorful letters, “Welcome Home, Faith!”

  My heart skipped a beat. Who would do that? Had Aunt Leah decided to cheer me up? No, she knew me well enough to understand that I wasn’t the type for grand gestures or recognition. Anyway, Aunt Leah knew I’d been near Paynes Creek for months.

  Penelope clearly had enough going on in her life. She didn’t do this.

  Caine? No way. Not his style.

  I jumped at the sound of another clap of thunder. Realizing I was getting drenched, I reached up and tore down the sign, then opened the door and entered the trailer.

  The “Welcome Home, Faith” sign wasn’t the only decoration that had been left for me. Inside, sitting on my dining table, was a bottle of sparkling wine—cheap American swill. A bouquet of balloons was tied to it, and an envelope with my name was leaned against the bottle. Each letter of my name was cut from a magazine.

  My hands began to perspire, and the little hairs on the back of my neck rose.

  When Gus meowed behind me, I whipped around to find her rubbing up against the corner of my kitchen cabinets. She meowed and whined several times before she walked over to me and rubbed against my legs.

  I knelt down. “You okay, girl?” Then it dawned on me, whoever had left these ‘gifts’ could still be here. Obviously, if that was the case, they knew I’d entered the trailer. So I quickly stepped down the hallway, opened my small bathroom, looked inside the only closet where someone could hide, and glanced in the bedroom.

  Whoever had been here was long gone. Then I remembered the man who had watched me yesterday from the wooded area behind the barn. I looked through the back windows toward that spot at the edge of the forest. The driving rain made it near impossible to make anything out, but I didn’t see anything that looked like a person watching me, certainly not wearing a bright orange hunting sweatshirt.

  I turned toward the table and stared at the envelope. “Think, Faith. Don’t be stupid.”

  I darted to my kitchen sink. From the storage underneath, I pulled a box of latex gloves out and slipped two over my hands.

  Next, I grabbed a knife from the magnetic strip behind my sink, and I carefully slid the knife under the flap of the envelope, opening it while trying not to tear it and hoping I preserved the integrity of the area that might have been licked by someone. If I was careful, I wouldn’t ruin an inv
estigator’s chances of obtaining a sample of DNA—if there was any.

  Once open, I pulled a notecard—a piece of white cardstock—from the envelope. On it was a message, spelled out in letters torn or cut from magazines.

  “YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD HIDE FROM ME? NOT A CHANCE. YOU WILL SUBMIT OR DIE.”

  I set the notecard back on the table next to the envelope and took a couple of steps backward. My hands shook, but my mind was clear. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Luke.

  “Faith?” he said as an answer.

  “I think you better come.”

  “I’m on my way. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fine. I’m fine.” My voice shook.

  “Okay, you’re fine,” he agreed, but didn’t sound convinced. “I can be there in ten minutes. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Someone’s been here. They left me a message.”

  “Don’t touch anything.”

  “I opened the envelope. I’m sorry. I wore gloves.”

  “Smart girl. But you should have waited.”

  “I should have.”

  A knock at my door had me spinning around. “Someone’s here.”

  “Don’t answer. Where’s the agent I assigned to you?”

  “He followed me home from the funeral. He’s parked at the end of my driveway. I’ll call him.” I realized it had to be Ethan at the door. I glanced at my watch. Of course, he would be right on time. “I know who’s at the door. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  “Don’t hang up—”

  But I already had. I opened the door to find Ethan on the other side. Special Agent Donovan stood directly behind him.

  “Miss Day, this gentleman says he had an appointment to see you.”

  “Yes, thank you. We’ll be fine.”

  The agent nodded, then backed away. He had followed Ethan up the driveway, but he returned to his own vehicle now.

  It had stopped raining. The thunderstorm was moving off to the east. I could still hear the rumbling in the distance.

  “Hi,” I said. “Give me a minute.” Leaving him standing under the awning, I turned and went to my hall closet. I pulled out a pair of rain boots and traded my dress boots for the others, then returned and stepped down out of the trailer.