“Yeah, thanks to both of you for rescuing us,” Heather repeated. “And thanks for blowing up that hellhole. I wanna go home.”
Reluctantly, Skye started following Josh through the wooded area, retracing their movements from earlier to get back to the car. They trekked over the same ground, sliding back down into the drainage ditch, sloshing through the water, and up the incline.
“Sorry I wasn’t able to help you with the bodies,” Skye said.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out the two knives she’d used to take down the two men. “Here. These might come in handy later. Nice moves by the way. I’ve never seen anyone that accurate in real life with a knife before. You looked absolutely amazing.”
Skye allowed herself to take a deep breath before getting into the car. “You realize there’s no turning back now,” she said as she heard sirens in the distance.
Pulling the car out onto the road, Josh agreed, “We were never turning back from this, Skye. It’s too important. Besides, it’s done now.” Hitting the gas, Josh sped away and had them out of the area in less than two minutes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Back in tiny Olga, among the picturesque coastline, the ridgelines and the valleys, Josh wasn’t surprised when he opened the door of the cabin to see Harry Drummond standing on the porch.
“Mr. Ander.”
“Detective Drummond. What brings you all the way to Orcas?”
“Seems some very nasty people turned up dead.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. The same kind of people Skye would have an interest in. Have you seen her? She hasn’t been around her apartment for several days now.”
“By all means, come in. You’ve come to the right place to find Skye. She’s been here for almost a week enjoying the solitude of the cabin, the island.”
As soon as Harry’s eyes landed on Skye sitting on the sofa with her legs tucked up underneath her, Harry said, “We’ve had quite a bit of excitement on the mainland. I’m sure you’ve seen the news.”
“Actually,” Josh replied, arms spread wide, “I’m afraid there’s no television here.”
Harry’s eyes zipped around the room to verify. “Okay, then I’ll hit the highlights for you. Yesterday two unidentified good Samaritans found their way inside an abandoned distribution center near the harbor where six girls had been held for God knows how long and suffered all manner of deviant acts. Each one of those girls had gone missing over the past two weeks. Our unknown good Samaritans were somehow able to set the girls free and help them flee their captors. Before the girls escaped, it seems their abductors got into a very heated argument about what to do with the girls.”
“How do you know that?”
“The older girls confirmed they heard the men arguing. Anyway, during this heated exchange, someone pulled a knife, followed by a gun and we think one or two might have escaped alive. We’re not sure about that…yet.”
“You think two captors escaped?” Josh asked, clearly perplexed.
“According to the girls, there were more than a dozen different men at any given time that used them. The doctors determined all of them were in terrible shape. Elena Palomar underwent surgery.”
Skye sucked in a breath. This was all a little too familiar—and tragic.
“They also were in a state of dehydration, some even starvation. They hadn’t been fed in days. It seems at one point their captors seemed to have forgotten about that little detail. Over the course of their captivity, each of the girls was given various drugs, everything from Rohypnol to ecstasy to heroin. They were raped multiple times during their incarceration. All of them tell the same story. They were being held at that location until arrangements could be made for them to be shipped somewhere out of the country.”
“They lived like that in fear, all the while thinking they might die at any moment and they’d never get to see their families,” Skye added, her breath hitching with each word. “That’s horrible.”
“Yes,” Harry said soberly. “But for some reason, we’re not sure what or why, their plan fell apart. Probably due to Whitfield’s death, without their leader in charge, they didn’t know how exactly to proceed. We know that because we found evidence on Whitfield’s computer linking him to the sex trade. Anyway, inside their prison, a disagreement broke out about what to do with the girls. All of the girls are convinced that some of the jailers wanted to kill them, slit their throats to be exact.”
“Because they’d seen their captors’ faces,” Skye reasoned. “Well, you’ve certainly been a busy man, Harry. The families must be ecstatic to have their daughters back.”
“Oh they are. The girls tell a very strange story about their two rescuers though. Did I mention there were two, one male and one female?”
“Well, don’t keep us in the dark,” Josh said. “Who were these people?”
Harry slanted him a look. “That’s the weird thing. All six disagree on what they looked like. The older three thought the woman wore a blonde wig. The younger ones gave me a description that could have fit Skye here to a tee. Three thought the man had bleached his hair white. I thought that was the best stretch of the truth. The other three described a guy with long black hair, about your height and weight, Mr. Ander.”
“Wow, small world,” Josh said. “Wish we could take credit for freeing them, but…Skye and I never left the island.”
“You’re sure of that, are you?” Harry asked with some skepticism. “I could check the log from the ferry.”
“You could,” Josh stated. “But that wouldn’t really be definitive since there are all manner of private boats on the island that we could’ve used to take us to the mainland. I should know because…”
“The Ander family owns one,” Skye offered. “It’s a beauty, too. Josh has promised to take me out on the water first chance we get. It’s such a heartwarming thing to hear good Samaritans are out there, that they cared enough about those girls to get them out of that awful place, bring them back home to their worried families. It warms my heart. How about you, Josh?”
“Oh it does. Story like that reaffirms my faith in mankind.”
“You guys wouldn’t be trying to stonewall me, would you?” When Harry met with flinty silence, undeterred, he went on, “You should know I still have crime scene investigators going over that warehouse with a fine-tooth comb, if there’s anything there, even one small piece of DNA, they’ll find it. A fire and explosion don’t always wipe out all the evidence.”
“There was an explosion? You didn’t mention that before, Detective,” Josh said.
“You do realize Brandon Hiller described the people that left him tied up in his van, don’t you? And it fits you two to a tee.”
“Oh that. Come on, Harry. You’d believe Brandon Hiller over me? I’m surprised at you. I’m pretty sure that guy would sell out his own mother if he got the chance.”
“And his mother is probably the only one who still admits to knowing and liking him,” Josh wisecracked. “By the way, I’m curious. Who owned this distribution center where the girls were held?”
“Whitfield.”
“So, did you learn anything about the sex-trafficking ring?” Skye asked trying for a casual interest. “Because that’s really what your department should be focusing on, not wasting time trying to ID the good Samaritans, in my opinion.”
“I’m getting to that.”
“What about the Jenna Donofrio case? Any leads there?” Josh asked, trying to keep the questions coming.
“Now that is one of the reasons I wanted to see Skye. It turns out there’s been a break in the case. A couple of days ago, a map arrives in my inbox via email attachment. Says Jenna’s buried on Whitfield land, gives me directions as to where—exactly. Didn’t take forensics but half a morning before they turned up a mass grave, a serial killer’s private garden. As of last count, at least four bodies so far. When I confronted Hiller with the map and the bodies, he confessed to killing little Jenna and helping to b
ury two other young girls just since he got out. But chances are Whitfield has been at this for at least five years, so there’s no telling what the body count will be before we’re done.”
“Don’t tell me Hiller wants to cut a deal with the DA’s office?”
“Okay, I won’t tell you. But he does. Not only that, he says he has other evidence implicating a cop up in Kirkland on Whitfield’s payroll, a detective named Talbot.”
At the name, Skye and Josh traded looks and Harry caught the exchange. “It seems this Talbot was responsible for seeing to all the details getting the girls loaded aboard the cargo ships. The port authority also arrested a ship captain called Renaldi who thankfully doesn’t seem to be able to keep his mouth shut confirming Talbot’s role in this whole stinking operation.”
“Filling out phony manifests,” Josh finished.
Harry nodded. “You’re a smart man, Mr. Ander. Just how smart remains to be seen.” With that, he turned to Skye. “
“What exactly is that supposed to mean, Harry?” Skye asked.
Harry ignored the question. Instead he jingled the change in his pocket and went on, “Today I had to tell Stephen Donofrio his daughter wasn’t coming home. Did you know the man lost his wife to cancer three years ago? Jenna was nine when she had to bury her mother. Stephen Donofrio’s been raising that little girl all by himself. Now he’s lost her.” Harry paused trying to rein in his emotions before he continued. “Just promise me you’ll both stay the hell out of this from here on out. If you don’t, I assure you it will get very nasty and messy for both of you.”
“You know what, Harry?”
“What?”
“I think you should make a point to come back here to Orcas in June, to see the wildflowers and wild berries in bloom. Bring your wife. Plan to stay at one of the nice B & B’s in the area while you’re here. Get away from the rat race, Harry, and don’t forget your camera.”
He pointed a finger at her and said, “You aren’t as cool as you’re pretending. This is too serious. I want you to listen to me.” He turned to Josh. “And you, too. If I find one link, just one shred of evidence that says you two had anything to do with the deaths of those eight people inside that warehouse…I’ll arrest you for…”
“For what, Drummond? For rescuing six victims of sexual abuse, girls that had suffered physical and mental trauma, tortured over a two-week period at the hands of brutal men who used them for their own sick pleasure? You want to put the people who saved those girls on trial? I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind sitting on that jury. How about you, Skye?”
“I’d vote not guilty in a heartbeat. But I have a question for you, Harry. What would you do if one of those girls belonged to you? What if one of them happened to be your daughter or niece or sister who went missing and ended up raped, sent out of the country to God knows where?”
Harry let out a sigh so loud it filled the room. “That’s below the belt and you know it.”
“Ask the families how they feel about having their girls back? I know how mine felt.”
“Promise me, you will not do this again,” Harry said.
Skye said nothing for several minutes. She shook her head. “Sorry, Harry. I can’t make that kind of promise, not even for you.”
To take Harry’s focus off Skye, Josh wanted to know, “How exactly will they ever locate all those girls that have already landed in other countries? What about them? What about what kind of life they’ll have for the next few years until some miracle brings them home?”
“We’re in the process of scouring Whitfield’s computer, wading through his client lists, name-by-name.”
“That could take months.”
“Maybe even years.”
“I hope they use excellent forensic analysis. I could help there, too, if you’ll let me,” Josh offered, reaching over to link his fingers with Skye’s.
“Maybe you could help us with the two laptops that mysteriously appeared on my doorstep recently,” Harry said as he moved to the front door. Standing there holding onto the knob for a bit, as if trying to decide what to say next, he turned back. “I understand The Artemis Foundation already has a full board of directors. You’ll do good work there, Skye.” He narrowed his eyes on Josh and announced, “Do not let her do anything stupid. I’m counting on both of you to use common sense. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you.” And with that, Harry opened the door and walked out.
“That was intense.”
“He didn’t arrest us,” Skye pointed out.
“For now, I guess that’s something to celebrate,” Josh said, running a finger down her cheek. “Hiller will probably plead out and get a lighter sentence.”
Skye ran a finger down his chest. “Probably. Maybe we should contact the DA’s office to make sure Hiller’s in for life this time.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Josh said and wrapped Skye up. He held up his left hand, fingers spread, wiggled them for her to see. “I took off my wedding ring, Skye. I put it away because…I’m crazy in love with you.”
Skye opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t get the words to escape. So he had sensed how she felt. She took his face in her hands, and kissed him, nestled into his body.
“And if you don’t like my loft, that’s okay. I’ll get you a house in the country where you can grow ten acres of…herbs if that’s what you want.”
“You’d leave your loft? That…isn’t necessary. The city is…fine.”
“Not even my loft is a place to make a garden. And you need space to grow things.”
“People do it all the time. Besides, you wouldn’t recognize kale from cabbage.”
“No, but you would. Why would anyone purposely grow kale and cabbage? Just saying.”
She pushed her hair back, looked up into his silver eyes. “I want to say…I haven’t had anyone really close to me since my parents died. I haven’t had anyone care about me the way you do. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be part of a unit. You brought that back for me, Josh.”
“I was distraught after Annabelle died. I’m not anymore. And there’s this connection we have to a legendary spirit guide that no one else sees but us. I’d say that makes us perfect for each other.”
“I’m not used to perfect.”
“You’ll get there.”
She put her arms around his neck. “I love you, Joshua Sebastian Ander with all my heart.”
“I love you, Skye Melody Cree, with all my heart. What do you imagine Travis will say when we tell him?”
“Travis? I’m sure he’ll be happy for both of us. Why?”
Josh wasn’t so sure about that. But he grabbed her hand and led her outside to the deck where they could watch the sun drop down over the mountains. It didn’t matter, he decided as he looked out over the peaceful calm of the San Juans. At the moment he didn’t much care about anyone or anything, except the woman who stood at his side.
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The Bones Will Tell
A Skye Cree Novel
The Bones Will Tell
Prologue
Six months earlier
Seattle, Washington
He’d gotten his first taste for killing when he was eight. On a visit to his grandparents’ farm, he’d snared a rabbit in a trap he’d built himself. He’d taken out his trusty Swiss Army knife then and there and slit its t
hroat right before he’d skinned it.
But that had been twenty years ago. Since then he’d graduated to bigger and better rabbits. He chuckled at his own joke as he made another pass on foot, past the house where the blonde lived that he’d been spying on for the better part of a week.
He’d already been inside her townhouse. He knew her name was Carrie Bennington and that she lived alone, except for the occasional men she brought home for pleasure and companionship, always on the weekends. He smiled. Carrie didn’t have to worry too much longer about whether she would be alone or not, or how she spent her time, or how dedicated she was at her job as an administrative assistant.
Because the clock ticked and the grim reaper waited for Carrie like a long lost friend, or maybe it was a nice friendly labradoodle. Either way, he’d picked Carrie after she’d caught his eye at the marketplace and he’d followed her home. That had been a week ago last Saturday. He’d waited until that Monday morning after she’d left for work before he’d picked the lock on her sliding glass door and slipped inside. That had been the first time. Carrie’s neighbors none the wiser. So much for the neighborhood watch program.
Because he was good at climbing, athletic and lean, he didn’t let things like a two-story apartment building dissuade him from getting at his quarry, not if he really wanted to get inside. He’d been a long distance runner in high school and still kept in shape. But even so, he liked to keep it simple. He preferred it when his victims had the good sense to own their own homes. Like Carrie who lived in a stylish two-story condo with an undersized courtyard.
He’d spent hours there going through her closets, her dresser drawers, even her refrigerator. He’d used her bathroom. After all, when the urge to take a dump hit a guy, he had to go.
Every day this week he’d spent some time in Carrie’s home. He’d watched. He’d waited. That’s how he knew what time she left for work each morning, what time she unlocked her front door every evening, and where she picked up men during happy hour on Friday and Saturday nights.
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