The Bones of Others

by Vickie McKeehan

  He frowned, realizing she was taking that step back and closing off right before his eyes. Mixed signals he recognized. He ran a hand through his still damp hair and said, “Look, I just thought…it seems a little unfair that I’m at home around my own things and you...never mind.” It seemed to him she really did not want him setting foot inside her studio. Maybe that was all it was. But it bugged him. How was it she didn’t feel uncomfortable now after they’d just shared the intimate act of making love, but he’d hit a nerve at suggesting they go pick up a few of her belongings and bring them back here? Maybe he was out of line. Maybe he did need to put on the brakes.

  When he saw Skye pick up her coat to leave the room or rather storm out, he nipped her around the waist. “You have to know this is the best morning I’ve had in a really long time. I just want you comfortable here, all the way relaxed.”

  “If I were any more relaxed, I’d be boneless.” She smiled, ran her fingers down his cheek in a tender gesture. “I’m glad to hear you don’t have regrets. I know I don’t. Now, I’ll go get the coffee started,” she offered and abruptly left the room.

  He told himself she needed some space and he would give it to her. After all, she’d made progress by leaps and bounds letting him touch her, make love to her. He knew she still had issues. But he was willing to work through them slowly if that’s what it took. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was about the woman that had him feeling things this strong, this quick. To hell with this, he thought. He had to get to work anyway.

  Later in the kitchen, after pouring a much-needed mug of caffeine, he was sweetening the contents when Josh stated, “Maybe now isn’t the best time to talk about this since you seemed to be in a mood—”

  “Oh for God’s sake, I’m not moving in with you. You’re still not over your wife.”

  “When did I ask you to move in? Just because I suggested you pick up a few things for later is not—”

  She rubbed her fingers back and forth on her forehead. “Okay, okay. Maybe I misread you. My fault. This is all totally new for me.”

  “Then we’re…on the same page?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then I want you to show me how to fight the way you do.” He’d already thought about this several times over the weekend. It seemed like the most efficient way to learn from the person he considered the best.

  Skye’s mouth dropped open. “What? You’re kidding?” She stared at the man who had just done all manner of spectacularly dirty things to her body—twice.

  “Train me, Skye. I have to be ready if I encounter someone like I did Friday night. Not only that, I want to help you get Ronny Whitfield. You might need backup when that happens, especially if you’re thinking about making a trip out to Tacoma.”

  Unbelievably touched that he’d used the word ‘when’ in the same phrase referring to Whitfield, Skye fumbled for a reply. She tossed her still wet hair back off her face. “Josh…that’s…” She tried to think of the right way to convey what she wanted to say. After several long seconds though, staring at the eagerness in his eyes, she went with her gut. “Actually that isn’t a bad idea. Although it is kinda crazy.”

  “Yes, I guess it is. But I’ve done crazy things before.”

  “This might be the craziest. Don’t get me wrong, anyone can work on strengthening muscles, making sure they’re able to run a mile to keep in shape. But when it comes to defending yourself, you have to be willing to take someone out. You can’t hesitate. You hesitate and…”

  “I’m aware of that. But we’ll hash that out later. First, you should know I discovered some info you might be interested in. I happened upon a porn site yesterday morning.”

  Skye automatically wrinkled her nose. “Okay.”

  “I found an old username Ronny Wayne used five years ago when he signed up. That was a couple of months after he got out of prison.”

  “Ah. Now you’ve got my attention. You can go back that far online?”

  “You bet. Anyway, from the old username I followed his online trail to another porn site, a private one.” He adjusted his glasses and continued, “Which I hacked.”

  Now she smiled. “That’s very clever of you.”

  “It is. He belongs to a group that spans the globe. I think the man’s into sex-trafficking.”

  “Tell me something I don’t already know. Of course he is.”

  “No, I don’t think you understand. Tracking the private site, I think I can prove it.”

  “Really?”

  Before he went any further, he wanted to know more. “But you might explain to me how it plays out for him. Exactly.”

  “He grabs the girl, or has someone else do it these days, then keeps her around to share with his friends—for a price or as part of the deal, part of the perks. Either way, they use the girl until they’re done and then sell her to the highest online bidder. There’s a very active group in South America, Venezuela to be exact. Then there’s another group, active in Europe, Bosnia to be more specific.”

  Josh narrowed his eyes. “How do you know that? Specifically.”

  She’d walked right into that one. She bluffed. “You aren’t the only one that can use a computer.”

  Josh wasn’t sure he believed that explanation. It had taken everything he knew as a hacker, everything he’d learned about software applications to get him through site after site of complex firewalls. “I trudged through several intricate mazes yesterday to get that far and believe me it wasn’t a walk in the park.”

  She went back to the topic. “Did you save any of this data?”

  Josh sent her an incredulous look. “I saved it all to its own flash drive.”

  “Something we could give to Harry then.”

  Josh picked up on an undertone. “When you told him about the trafficking, Drummond didn’t believe Whitfield was part of it.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Not exactly. He’s a cop. Cops usually need hard proof before they can get on board with anything.”

  “I can get more.”

  “Really?”

  “What I found was tip of the iceberg stuff. I have a feeling there are many layers in his tangled web. Look, there’s something else. I want to put you in a game, or rather your likeness.”

  “No.”

  “Come on, Skye. It would be a rendition. It would have a graphics comic book feel to it, nothing more than a cartoon likeness really.”

  “No. There is no negotiation on this, Josh. I do not want Whitfield stumbling on that kind of thing and getting off on it.”

  He held up his hands. “Okay, I get it. You’re right. I’ll adjust the face and the hair so it doesn’t resemble you at all. How’s that?”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry I even considered…I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Make her a blonde, will you? I always envied the golden-haired cheerleaders in school.”

  “Why? You have beautiful hair. The blonde doesn’t work for me, maybe a redhead.”

  “Since when? I thought most men loved blondes.”

  He picked up a few strands of her hair. “Not me, I love all this black.”

  “Yeah, so you said about a dozen times since Friday.” She grinned and started to get out the makings for breakfast when her cell phone chimed. Skye looked at the number, still riding the afterglow from two bouts of morning sex, and piped up, “It’s Harry. Hey, Harry, what’s up?”

  “Skye, we have another missing girl. Jenna Donofrio, twelve-years-old. Her father got home from his third-shift job at Gordham Press this morning around seven-thirty, only to find an empty house, his daughter gone. Looks like someone cut the glass on a back window to get inside.”

  “Hmm, back-to-back abductions? Could Brandon Hiller be responsible or you think it’s an unknown?”

  “I don’t know, Skye. I just don’t know at this point. What I do know is that the girl didn’t take a glass cutter to get out of her own house. She’s not a runaway.”

  She picked up on
the frustration in his voice, even though he’d only been on the case for no more than a couple of hours. “What do you want me to do, Harry?”

  “The media’s already on the story. Wanted to keep you in the loop. And whatever it is you do, you might want to do it now, if you get my drift. Unofficially.”

  Even though rain still poured down outside, she didn’t hesitate. “I’m on it. Have they issued an AMBER Alert?”

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t meet the criteria. We don’t have a description of the captor, no make or model of a vehicle. There’s nothing we can use for an alert.”

  “But the media has her picture out?”

  “Oh yeah. That we did immediately. Look, I’ve got to go. You find anything, call me.”

  The minute she clicked off, Josh pressed the remote on the TV in the kitchen. “Missing girl? Might as well get the details. You go out in this, I’m going with you.”

  “Josh, I’m used to doing this on my own.”

  He ignored the stubborn lock of her jaw. His eyes focused on the screen and the exploding news story. His stomach dropped. “Jenna Donofrio is only twelve.”

  “According to Harry he got into the house through a back window by cutting the glass. Ronny Wayne usually abducts his victims from the outdoors, parks, around schools, that sort of thing. Never once, that I know of, has he ever gone into a house, taken a child out that way.”

  “What about the Hiller guy?”

  “Same MO as Whitfield as far as I know. Doesn’t have a history of going inside a house to rape or abduct from a residence. Unless of course, he amped up, got desperate because of what happened Saturday night, leaving Erin alone, letting her get away. Urges, predilections don’t disappear because of failure. They just keep trying, ramping up their efforts until bingo, one way or another they have success.”

  “So it’s possible. Let’s say the rain keeps the kids inside. A perp gets desperate enough he’ll do anything for his fix, especially when his fix is kids.”

  “Exactly.” When the phone rang a second time, Skye groaned. “Crap, it’s Lena. What do you suppose Zeke’s managed to do in a measly seven hours?” She pushed answer with all the eagerness of a woman desperately trying to maintain her cool. “Hi, Lena, what’s up?”

  “You might’ve told me that your Zeke is in fact, a Zoe.”

  “What are you talking about? How the heck did I miss that?”

  “You heard me. Zeke is a girl. Zoe Hollister is her real name.”

  “Well, for God’s sakes.” Skye thumped her head. “He, or rather she, certainly had me fooled. And that might explain a lot about why she’s on the streets hiding as a boy.”

  “I’m sure it does because her mother’s boyfriend got a little too friendly, hence the leaving home.”

  “How’d you find that out anyway?”

  “I raised sons, Skye. There were several indications. First, I laundered what little clothes she peeled off after she finally agreed to take that shower. They weren’t boy things. Then I got a better look at her coming out of the bathroom. After a good night’s sleep, I confronted her this morning and she ‘fessed up.”

  “So she didn’t get thrown out of the house, she’s a runaway? Damn, that makes it a sticky situation.”

  “Not from where I’m standing. That child is not going back home as long as the mother lets her boyfriend live there. If I have to get my own attorney on this, Skye Cree, I’m determined.”

  “Okay, okay, calm down. I agree with you, Lena, but we can’t hide a runaway.”

  “Then I’ll get an attorney.”

  “We’ll talk about this later. Look, there’s a girl gone missing.”

  “I know. It’s all over the news. You go do what it is you do. For now, I’ve got Zoe handled.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Now go.”

  Within the hour, she’d hit the streets with Kiya in the drizzle and biting wind. She’d persuaded a reluctant Josh to keep to his Monday work routine, which included a mandatory afternoon staff meeting with his department heads. She’d pushed every button, used every cliché to get him to not tag along with her.

  The man wasn’t nearly ready to sit down and listen to a long drawn out explanation about Native American customs and folklore that covered her personal belief in spirit guides and a wolf that only she could see. The fact that she and Kiya had conversations were probably not something a man like Josh would ever understand anyway and certainly couldn’t fully accept without a good deal of rationalization.

  That pretty much covered the reason Kiya, the wolf, belonged to her and her alone and always would. She’d been born connected to the spirit of the wolf. The hunter. Just because she’d had mutually satisfying, mind-numbing sex didn’t mean she shared the knowledge of Kiya with anyone. That especially included Josh Ander. He may have thought he’d seen a silver wolf—she was pretty sure she’d nipped that delusion in the bud—but how he’d managed to see Kiya in the first place when no one else ever had, nagged at the back of her mind.

  She wasn’t sure what Josh’s sighting meant exactly.

  The answer to that came from Kiya.

  It means you have a strong connection to the man. He’s your destiny.

  “Destiny with a multi-millionaire? That’s bullshit. That doesn’t even sound like me.”

  Your destiny isn’t up to you, not entirely. Remember, the threads of your life and your future are intertwined.

  “Since when? Come on. It’s all over the Internet people have reported seeing a lone, silver wolf hanging around urban Seattle. No way all of those sightings could be my destiny.”

  Destiny means many things, Skye Cree. This city is your home, your community, part of your tribe. The people in it, all the people you interact with will eventually play a part in your future. There is a place in your future for Josh Ander whether you accept it or not.

  “We need to put this aside for now and concentrate on finding Jenna Donofrio.”

  Sadly, I sense Jenna’s spirit is no longer with us.

  Skye stopped walking. She looked down at Kiya, met the wolf’s eyes. Violet locked into violet. Anger blocked the familiar instinct. “You might’ve mentioned that an hour ago. Jenna’s gone?”

  She is. You needed this time for reflection before exploding into rage. Rage works against you. Fury and anger will get you nowhere.

  Skye took deep breaths, tried for calm. “Tell me who is responsible.”

  You already know that.

  “Do not talk to me in riddles! Not now, not today. I want a name!”

  Brandon Hiller followed her home from the grocery store. She went to get a can of soup. After her father left for work, he went back in the night and took her.

  “What did he do with her body?”

  You know I don’t see everything, Skye Cree.

  “Damn it!” Skye yelled out loud to no one. It never occurred to her that the wolf was wrong. She’d trusted Kiya with her life too many times to question the knowledge that came with it. She suddenly remembered the vague dream from the night before. Her exhaustion had caused her to drop into a deeper sleep than usual. Had the red and purple had anything to do with Jenna?

  Don’t confuse the images, Skye Cree.

  “Are you certain?”

  I am.

  “Could I have done anything to prevent Jenna—?”

  You could have done nothing to prevent her death.

  Skye was still trying to calm down when she glanced up and noticed she’d walked all the way to the corner of Eighth and Stewart. Low hanging clouds drifted along the pavement. More rain would be coming through within the hour, she decided. She wanted desperately to lash out, to hit something.

  Would she ever be able to stop the monsters out there from hurting kids?

  Instead of smashing her fists into the likes of Hiller, which she had to catch first, she drew out her cell phone. How the hell did she intend to explain details to a member of law enforcement and convince him she wasn’t craz
y and in need of years in therapy?

  What a mess, she decided, rubbing her aching head. Helluva note, after her first morning bout of incredible sex with one of Seattle’s hottest hunks, she had to come face-to-face with this. Confronting her deepest fears at being labeled a flake, a freak, and cracked hadn’t exactly been on her Monday morning to-do list.

  One thing she knew for certain. Over the past several years, she’d already pushed Harry’s innate cop radar to the limit with Ali and Hailey and Erin. What the hell would he think of her once she told him there was no chance Jenna Donofrio was coming home alive? What cop wouldn’t want the specifics of that and how the hell she knew them?

  That’s okay, Harry, she thought. I sure as hell wouldn’t believe me either.

  But because she had to try, she punched in Harry’s number.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sitting in the conference room at Ander All Games surrounded by his staff, Josh couldn’t concentrate. For one thing, his mind kept replaying the morning spent with Skye. He’d never believed in love at first sight. After all, it had taken him months to fall in love with his wife, Annabelle.

  She’d been a cute brunette, who’d caught his attention at Comic-Con in San Diego where she’d been working one of the booths. She’d been decked out in some kind of sexy red costume that had showed plenty of leg and cleavage. Within hours of meeting, they’d gone back to his hotel room and hadn’t surfaced till noon the next day. But that had been more about sex than any deeper feelings on his part. Love hadn’t entered the equation until almost a year later. They’d shared a lot of common ground when it came to the same interests, games, music, movies, food, even politics. But having a lot in common was a far cry from rocking each other’s world in the sack. Surely they’d done that on some level at some point since they’d spent several years together. At least he hoped they had. He had to wonder now if he’d ever rocked Annabelle’s world.

  Because he didn’t like admitting that his own hadn’t shook quite that much with Annabelle, certainly not the way it had with Skye. He hadn’t wanted to devour Annabelle. Skye on the other hand, he wanted to eat from head to toe until he thought he might explode. It didn’t seem he could ever get enough.