Sketched

  Piper rushed down the narrow hall, her shoes crushing the layer of paper beneath. One turn, then another, she followed the officer’s voices through the slats of light streaming out from the peepholes that dotted the walls like bullet holes.

  She turned a sharp corner to the right and found the officer who had gone into the wall first. His hat covered in spider webs in his hands, he was bent over at the waist retching. The smell had become overpowering, only now the bilious tang was second to the fleshy depth of what had been beneath. He looked up at Piper as she turned the corner, his eyes moist with nausea. He shook his head and went to speak, but wretched again instead. The second officer stepped out of the open door unsteady and pale.

  “Don’t,” he started, trying to halt Piper as she pushed past him and into the room.

  She knew what she would see. She knew exactly why two of Dixon’s finest were currently crouched in a state of mild shock behind her.

  Hill was standing underneath the bare bulb that dangled in the center of the room. On every side of him, towers of jars climbed the walls, the contents of some long ago reduced to mold while others were still dappled with internal moisture. Hill heard Piper enter and turned, a jar in one hand while the other held a handkerchief to his mouth. He looked down at the jar in his hands and then at the rest, sweat on his brow betraying his disgust.

  “It’s vomit. Fucking vomit. All of it.” His voice was muffled by the cloth, “What kind of person does this? What was this?”

  Piper, afraid to open her mouth against the permeating scent looked down to the floorboards where Hill stood. It was the only spot in the room not filled with jars. Piper could see stains on the wood where the panels were loose beneath Hill’s scuffed brogues.

  She shook her head. When she opened her mouth, the taste of Kingston’s vomit wrapped itself around her tongue. She gagged before she could stop herself.

  “It’s where he kept them,” she said, pointing at the floor.

  Hill’s face went slack. Piper watched as he looked down to the disheveled, filthy floorboards beneath him and saw the realization in his eyes. His pupils dilated, and the handkerchief dropped from his hand.

  “For fuck’s sake. Duncan! Russell! Get back in here.”

  The two officers returned to the room hesitantly. Piper moved out of the way, stepping back against the jars as Hill began to bark orders.

  “We need to pull these boards up, now. We might have what we’re looking for.”

  The officers moved beside the chief who was already on his knees, prying up the boards with his fingers. There was a loud crack as the first board gave way. The weeping in Piper’s head silenced abruptly, leaving behind a curious silence.

  Her heart thumping in her throat and temples, she was barely aware of Adam as he joined her in the room.

  They watched wordlessly as the officers went to work on the other boards, the smell that had filled the room becoming more unbearable with every panel they removed. A thick, fleshy scent filled the room like a physical presence, crawling out of the hole in floor and assaulting them where they stood.

  Hill stood up, his eyes wild and his comb over disheveled.

  “Let’s take a look.” His voice shook. Despite his years on the force, he looked as if he were courting shock as much as the younger men beside him. A tall man, he was able to reach up and grab the base of the bulb above him. He angled the light into the hole the officers stood around.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus, god!” One of the men fell back, the clatter of the jars as they rolled and tumbled around him causing Piper to jolt. Crumbled into the pile, the man whimpered loudly before practically crawling from the room.

  Piper watched the other officer back out of the room as well, his shoulder banging against Adam as he went. Once in the hallway, he broke into a series of gasping sobs that sounded more like an alarmed dog than anything else.

  Hill, the light still angled down into the pit, took his police radio from his belt slowly. His face waxen as a death mask he pressed the communications button and spoke,

  “We’ve found them,” he announced grimly. “A lot of them. Or what is left of them. They're all,” His voice broke but just as soon as it cracked, he gathered himself together again. “It looks like they’ve been stitched together. This could take a while. Get the coroner up here ASAP. Actually,” Hill took a deep, shuddering inhale, “tell him to grab a drink first, he’s going to need it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  * * *

  Kray County, New England - Three months later.

  If they kept their feet still for long enough, the tiny fish that had decided to make her pond a home would get enough courage to approach. Their feet warped and white under the water, Adam and Piper watched silently as the fishes’ grey torpedo bodies shot between their toes and over their ankles.

  The late summer sun lay like a rich layer over everything, dulling even the sharpest of sounds. The barking of the neighbor’s dog sounded miles away and the roll of a plane directly overhead sounded as if it were behind a layer of pillows. Piper, her eyes still on the darting mass of smelts at their feet, reached for her glass of iced tea.

  It was bitter and incredibly cold, the beads of moisture on the outside running down her wrists.

  “Five hundred thousand.” They had been silent for so long that when Adam spoke it made her jump.

  She looked over at him, taking another sip from the glass. He was staring off at the line of trees that surrounded the pond. Their leaves shook gracefully as a puff of hot wind blew over the water.

  “A five by seven canvas for five hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Yup.”

  “And that’s just one.”

  “Yup.”

  He looked at her now, his eyes half lidded against the sparkles that glared up from the pond water.

  “Piper, you never have to work again if you don’t want to. You know that, right? You’ve got enough money now to support multiple generations let alone just you.”

  “And so do you.” She put the glass down, watching its wet base nourish the sun cracked pier. Adam snorted derisively.

  “I’ve got my own thing going on.” He sounded smug, like a cat with the cream.

  “Yeah? Does this thing happen to have a penthouse in New York, a successful publishing company and a fondness for short, but brilliant psychiatrists?”

  “He doesn’t OWN the publishing company.”

  “Oh no?” Piper smirked at him, watching him struggle to stay aloof. He had been working awfully hard to suppress his smirking for the last month and had been largely unsuccessful.

  “Just shares,” he said breezily. “A lot of them. And the building.”

  “And your delicate little heart, don’t forget about that.”

  Adam playfully punched her on the shoulder. He was pleased to see that muscle had returned to her frame. There was roundness to her again, a fullness that revealed a surprising sensuality underneath. Piper had always been beautiful, but now she looked alive. He reached under her arm and poked at her belly, pleased at the appearance of a tiny roll hiding beneath her tank top.

  “Looks like my fantastic, good old-fashioned English cuisine is finally working.” he said. “You’re going to miss that when I’m gone.”

  “You can whip up some mushy peas and mash when I visit.”

  Once the press and related drama over the Entler murders had died down enough to take a breath, Adam had submerged himself in writing. The two of them had retreated to the farmhouse, grateful for the quiet and the time to process the nightmare of the last months. Piper had painted for days, only emerging to find Adam locked away in his study, the sound of rapid typing spilling out into the hallway from behind the closed door. When their paths finally crossed again, Piper had a groundbreaking show for Annalisa to bawl over and Adam had the year’s most shocking true crime novel tucked away in his laptop.

  “You wouldn’t consider moving into the city with me?” Adam asked her. He looked back at
the shambling house behind them. The heat came off the uneven roof in shimmering waves, rising up into the perfectly blue sky. “Get yourself a nice apartment and rub shoulders with all your adoring but unstable fans?”

  She’d cut off all her hair as soon as she left Dixon. “Once your hair is used as a weapon against you, it’s a little hard to keep it,” she had announced. The edges of her artfully shagged bob skimmed her jaw line as she shook her head in response to Adam’s offer.

  “And leave this?” She stood up with, stretching herself backward lazily. “I mean, who’s going to float in my pond for hours if I’m not here? Who will the bats poop on?”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.” Adam looked up at her where she stood over him, her still lean body casting a welcome shadow. “What am I going to do if I don’t have to check to see if you’ve drowned every ten minutes?”

  “Fall in love and get married. Enjoy the movie deal. Doesn’t all that sound much more interesting than looking after me?”

  Adam pulled his feet from the cold water and got to his feet. The wood practically boiled the water from his soles where he stood. Without warning, which he knew could present a problem, he took Piper into his arms.

  He pressed his lips against her forehead, tasting the salt of her sweaty brow.

  “Sweetheart, looking after you has been the biggest adventure of my sad little life.”

  He was about to pull her into a full hug when the sound of a car against the gravel driveway interrupted him. A few birds flew up lazily from their nests in the eves.

  “Are you expecting someone?” he asked. Piper looked puzzled and shook her head again.

  “No one.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “One of your rabid fans?” Adam joked

  “One of yours, more likely.”

  She slipped her feet into her abandoned flip flops and made her way off the pier and to the side of the house. When she turned the final corner, Adam at her side, she stopped abruptly.

  He looked incredibly out of place. Still in khaki dress pants despite the weather, Chief Noah Hill was pulling a handkerchief from the front pocket of his dress shirt.

  He was looking up at the farmhouse, a look of disbelief on his face. He blotted the sweat away from his face and neck, reaching up into his comb over to catch the drips before they fell. His car clicked and complained behind him as his engine began to cool.

  “Chief Hill?” Piper said, her voice registering as much disbelief as his flushed face.

  “There you are.” He jumped slightly and stuffed his moist handkerchief into his pocket again. “Man Piper. Look at this place. Does it even qualify as a house?”

  “It sure does, my house,” Piper said proudly. She looked from the chipped paint walls to where Adam was still looking at her uncertainly. “Wouldn’t change it if I could.”

  Hill crossed the gravel to where they stood under the arching shade of the house. He offered his hand,

  “It’s good to see you, kid.” Piper’s heart constricted. Kid. Harrison had been the last one to call her that. She was certain she’d never be called that by anyone ever again.

  “Have you come up to drag her back?” Adam joked. “Offer her a corner office?”

  “The only thing I’m in the habit of solving these days is those terrible crossword books that old men spend hours on.” Piper joined in. “I might have an occasional hunch over where I left my keys, but that’s it.”

  Hill laughed but it wasn’t genuine. His eyes were still as tired as ever. He shook his head as if it were all a continual, funny joke but Piper knew better. Dixon was still breaking him.

  “I would take you back with me if I could. But something tells me I’d have to drag you kicking and screaming.” He shifted his weight, “No, I wanted to come up and tell you that the whole thing is wrapped up. We’ve gone all the way through the house, put everyone, back together I guess, as best we could that is. It was…”

  He paused, at a loss for words. Piper thought she could see his chin tremble a little but he quickly gained control. He shook his head again, his head bowed enough to showcase how much hair he had lost over the last while.

  “Do you want to have a seat?” Piper asked, concerned. “Adam made some iced tea, why don’t you sit down for a while.”

  Hill looked more embarrassed over her hospitality than his emotional fragility.

  “No, I’m good. I’m not going to stay. I’ve got business in town.”

  Piper laughed before she could stop herself.

  “What, is there a sudden crime wave in the General Store?”

  “You’d be surprised.” He tried to respond in kind but it was just as false as his earlier attempts. “No, actually.” He took a deep breath and stared up at the house like it was a focal point for his apparent nervousness. “Actually, I wanted to thank you and apologize. We lost Harrison. We lost over twenty-eight innocent people. Most of them we’ve found enough of to identify, but there’s still some missing. For most of them, all we have are pieces,” he shuddered slightly. “God knows where he put them. The entire Entler mansion was nothing but a maze, hollowed out from the inside. He had hidden rooms all the way through it.”

  “Are they still looking?” Adam asked.

  “We’ve combed our way through that place. We’ve been ruthless. Attic to basement. The case might be officially closed, but we’re not going to stop until we’ve identified all Entler’s victims. Harrison would’ve wanted it that way.”

  Piper looked down at her toes, glossy with polish for the first time in months. How cruel life was. How quickly people you loved could be filed away in the past tense. She’d seen it. It takes seconds. And now here she was, millions of dollars in the bank and a polish called ‘Tiffany Blue’ on her toenails. How cruel.

  “You drove for over eight hours to tell us something you could’ve done over the phone because you have business in the bustling Cray Metropolis?” Adam spoke, unable to stand the loaded silence. He’d had enough of that for a while.

  Instead of irritated at his assertiveness, Hill looked relieved.

  “Maybe I should be taking you back to the force with me, Broughton,” he said, the first genuine smile on his face since he’d arrived. “You’re right. There’s something else.”

  He dug into the pocket of his too-hot pants and took out a small bag. He held it in his fist and looked at Piper until she made eye contact.

  “Your mother was one of Kingston’s first victims, you know that.”

  “I do.”

  “We had a hell of a time finding her in that house, Piper. She was one of the ones we really had to work for. But we did. She was too far gone for even dental records but there was something, I’m sorry Piper. But maybe it will help you get some sort of peace after all this time.”

  He passed the bag into her outstretched hand. Her fingers stiff and her heart aching, she worked awkwardly to undo the bag.

  “The only way we knew it was her was because of this. She was wearing it in all of her pictures, you know. If we hadn’t found it on the remains, we would’ve never known it was her.”

  Piper pulled the tarnished gold chain from the bag where it wrapped around itself like a sleeping snake. A small sob escaped from her throat as she held the necklace up before her.

  The scuffed and damaged diamonds on the heart still caught the light, glinting bright like the turn of a lighthouse in the mellow August sun.

  Table of Contents

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  SKETCHED

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN


  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE