Rock Harbor Series - 04 - Abomination

by Colleen Coble

  “Do . . . do you know what happened between me and Nick? Why we divorced? Did I ever talk to you about . . . about another man?”

  “You never tell your Mor anything.” Her tone changed. “Your Fa, he has doctor bill due. A thousand dollars. I tell Nick, and he says he send it. Make sure, okay? The money, we need.”

  Was that the guarded tone she’d sensed from Nick whenever she asked about her family? Were they only interested in money? Maybe that was why she never went to visit. “I don’t have any money. Nick and I are divorced. I can’t let him give you any money.”

  “Bad daughter, you. Always you think of yourself.” The words were delivered in a harsh growl.

  The next thing Eve knew, the dial tone was ringing in her ear. Her mother had hung up on her? She got to her feet and went out the door. She had to talk to Nick.

  She found him on the back porch. The fog had rolled in off the lake, and though she could see the sun would soon burn it off, right now she couldn’t make out the buoy offshore, though she could hear its gong and the sound of the foghorn.

  Nick glanced up as she settled into the chair beside him. “You okay?”

  “I just talked to my mother. Or rather tried to. What’s this about her asking you for money?”

  He shrugged. “They’re always asking for money. I’d hoped she wouldn’t ask when she knew what you’d been through.”

  “But why? Doesn’t my dad work?”

  “Yeah, in a bar. He and your mom are both alcoholics. Meth smokers too.”

  She saw him glance at her out of the corner of his eye as if to gauge her reaction. The information didn’t surprise her, in light of her mother’s aloofness and accusations.

  “Were they like this when I was growing up?”

  “You lived with the alcohol. And heroin. They found meth just before we were married.”

  “How did I ever become a dancer?”

  “You called it your escape. Elena Cox, the teacher who gave you the necklace, bonded with you when you were in grade school. She gave you free lessons for years.”

  “My brothers? Are they like . . . her?”

  “Great guys, both younger than you and both unmarried. I think they’re jaded.”

  “Have you talked to them—since you found me?”

  He shook his head. “I thought your parents would tell them. I guess I should call them.”

  “And my maiden name?”

  “Ostergard.” His hand slipped over and took hers.

  The warmth of his hand and the interlacing of their fingers brought a level of calm. “Have you always been able to do this?” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “Make it all better.”

  His lips turned down. “Not everything. If I could, we’d still be married.”

  A chill wind blew in from the lake as if summoned by his words. Just about the time she moved closer to him, she was reminded of how little she knew about anything—their pasts, their arguments. Their dreams, their failures. She stood and went to the porch railing.

  Her affair.

  He joined her. “Can we pretend we have no past?” he whispered. “We have just this minute. We can learn about each other as if we’ve just met. In a way, we have.”

  He turned her around to face him, cupped her cheek in his hand, and rubbed her lower lip with his thumb. Eve closed her eyes and inhaled the minty scent of his breath. His lips brushed hers, and she fought the desire to pull him closer.

  She turned her head, sliding her lips away. “A new beginning sounds tempting, Nick, but how can we find it until we put the past in its place?”

  He stepped back with exasperation in the stiff line of his shoulders. “The past is over, Eve. You don’t even remember it.”

  “What about Will Donaldson?”

  He stiffened even more. “You remember him?”

  “No, but he’s here.”

  “Son of a—” Nick clamped his mouth shut. His hands curled into fists. “When did you see him?”

  Had it just been a few days ago? So much had happened. “He says we were lovers,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me it was my fault we divorced?”

  He stared at her. “Is it true? You said—”

  “I said what?” His gaze wouldn’t meet hers, and she braced herself for the news.

  “That you never slept with him.”

  A flame of hope began to burn. “Did you believe me?”

  His gaze locked with hers. “Yeah, I did. What’s he doing here? You told me you weren’t going to see him anymore.”

  “I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “Why would he lie?”

  “I’m sure he knows you don’t remember, and it’s a way to hang on. I think he and I should have a talk.”

  She grabbed his arm. “No!”

  “What did you feel when you saw him?” He took her in his arms again, and his lips brushed hers. “I can see you feel something for me, Eve.” His fingers pressed against her wrist. “Your pulse is racing.”

  “I didn’t feel anything for him,” she admitted. She swallowed the dryness in her throat. “But would he lie to me?”

  Nick said nothing. His disappointment and her regret mingled into something as thick as the fog rolling in across the bay.

  JASON’S BUST OF THE SKULL FOUND IN THE GRAVE WAS shown on TV all over the state by noon Sunday. Nick knew they’d get no hits on it. The guy had rushed through the thing in three days, and it resembled no person he’d ever seen. The lips were too thick for the rest of the bone structure; the nose didn’t fit either.

  The Marquette officer only wanted the publicity.

  Kade talked to Fraser, who arrived in Rock Harbor Sunday afternoon. Nick’s partner had arranged to get the skull released and delivered to Oliver. Kade offered the basement of his lighthouse as a workspace.

  “I gave Oliver a key so he can come in and out as he likes. He’s going to stay at the hotel,” Bree said, flipping on an overhead light to show Nick down. “Sorry it’s such a mess down here.”

  “I’m sure Oliver has only made it worse,” Nick said. “He didn’t want to work in his van in case Jason got wind of it and came in to commandeer the project again.” An odor like a damp cave rushed out the open door.

  The bare bulb dribbled weak light into the stairwell, but a bright glare from halogen lights illuminated the basement. Over a century of use had packed the dirt floor hard. Stacks of boxes lined the walls, but Oliver’s table and supplies took up the center of the room.

  Oliver bent over his work. “Hey, Nick, get me that clay, would you?” He gestured to a tub sitting on boxes about six feet away.

  Nick obliged, hefting the heavy tub to his friend. Oliver began to work on the model he’d made of the skull. He had drilled small holes in the cast and inserted vinyl pegs in them to gauge how thick he needed to build up the clay.

  “How long is this going to take?” Nick asked. He never tired of watching Oliver at work.

  “Another four or five days. Then I’m taking a break and going fishing. Don’t call me for a new case for at least a week.”

  “My dad loves fishing,” Bree said.

  “I’ll take him out one afternoon.”

  “How’d you get into this line of work?” Bree asked.

  Oliver’s smile flashed through his neatly trimmed beard. “Indecision,” he joked. “First I thought I might be a doctor, but I kept getting distracted. Then I wanted to be a sculptor, but when was the last time you bought a bust?”

  “Um, never,” Bree said.

  “Exactly.” He straightened his back, and his grin widened. “Actually, I didn’t care about the money. My brother went missing when I was in my twenties. A year later some bones were found. The police couldn’t identify them—this was back before DNA typing was around. I had to know if they were my brother’s, so I asked the police if I could try to make a cast of the skull.”

  “You never told me that,” Nick said.

  “You never asked.” Oliver held up a lamin
ated chart. “It helped that I had studied anatomy and art in my academic wanderings. I spent two weeks studying journals until I found a method like this to guide me.”

  “What’s that?” Nick peered closer at the chart but couldn’t figure it out.

  “It tells me how thick the layers of muscles and skin should be in different areas on the face. This is the most painstaking part of the process. And the most crucial. If you don’t get this right, the face won’t look like the victim at all.” Oliver’s voice was muffled as he bent over the skull.

  “So was it your brother?” Bree asked in a soft voice.

  “It was. But at least I knew and had closure. We buried him and mourned. It helped. There are so many lost souls out there. It’s a small thing I do.”

  “Not so small,” Nick said. “You sure you need four or five days?”

  “Rushing it at this stage will most assuredly give us the results of our young friend Jason.”

  Nick knew he had to cool his jets and not push if he wanted to track down this woman—and let them lead her to Gideon. Pulling up a folding wooden chair, he settled down to watch the forensic sculptor.

  Layer by layer, Oliver built the cast up, pausing often to gauge the thickness of the clay in different areas.

  “How long before we see some results?” Nick asked.

  “I’ll rush and try to get through in a week or ten days.”

  “Jason didn’t take that long,” Bree said.

  “Of course not. The young man was inept.” He paused. “I think she’s blonde too.”

  “How could you tell? I mean, there was no hair in the grave,” Bree said.

  Oliver looked up briefly. “There was one strand of blonde inside the skull the first time I looked it over. I didn’t tell Jason. I wanted to see which direction he went.”

  “It was obviously the wrong direction,” Nick agreed. “The face he came up with looked out of balance.”

  “Not surprising,” Oliver said, scrutinizing the cheekbones.

  Nick watched Oliver smooth the clay along the cheekbones and reach for more.

  “Once I get the clay totally smooth and skinlike, I shall let it dry, then paint it. It will take many layers.”

  Nick walked over to look at the bust from a different angle. “You know Jason’s going to scream foul.”

  “It won’t do him any good. We will have her identified within twenty-four hours of completion.” Oliver’s gaze stayed on the cast.

  “So long as it’s before Gideon makes his next move, that will make me very happy.”

  “I’m going to go meet Eve and your parents at the park,” Bree said, heading toward the stairs.

  Nick nodded and continued to watch Oliver work. The sculptor’s long fingers moved quickly along the face, honing and smoothing. The man really was a master.

  Nick’s cell phone rang. He had only one bar, so he bounded up the steps to the kitchen. “Andreakos here,” he said.

  “Captain, this is Grant Campbell with Internal Affairs. I expected you to contact us when you heard of your suspension.” The man’s voice was heavy with disapproval.

  “We’ve got a situation here,” Nick said.

  “Well, we’ve got a situation here,” the man snapped. “If you want to be a police officer again, there are some questions that need answering. I expect you in my office tomorrow morning at nine.”

  “I’m in Rock Harbor, in the UP,” Nick said. “It’s an eight-hour drive.”

  “Then I suggest you get started.”

  “Look, can’t you send someone up here? I’m not leaving. A serial killer is after my wife.”

  “Then I’m sure she has police protection. This can’t wait, Captain.”

  If Eve would go with him, he’d take her, but he knew she’d say no. And he wasn’t leaving her here without him. “Then you’ll have to send someone to Rock Harbor. I’m not leaving Eve. If it means losing my job, then that’s the price I’ll pay to protect my wife.” From the long silence on the other end, he figured the man had hung up and he’d be getting dismissal papers in a few days. Then he heard Campbell clear his throat.

  “I’ll be there tomorrow morning. Make yourself available, Andreakos.” Without waiting for an answer, he hung up.

  Nick rolled his eyes and flipped his phone shut. Just what he didn’t need right now. He should probably go over his report of the operation, but it was back at his office. Maybe he could get someone to overnight it. He called headquarters and made the request. His assistant offered to fax them to the sheriff’s office, and he jumped on her suggestion.

  He went back to the basement and told Oliver what the call was about.

  “I’ll look after Eve if you need to go,” Oliver said, standing and pressing his fist into his back. His eyelids drooped, and his skin was a sallow color.

  “Thanks, but I can’t leave her.” He stretched. “I think I’ll go for a walk. Want me to get you a soda or a candy bar?”

  “How about a Rolaids?” Oliver said, his white grin breaking out.

  “Got plenty of those.” Nick started to dig in his pocket, but the older man held up his hand.

  “I was only kidding. Those things will kill you, Nick.”

  “Probably.” Nick went toward the steps. “Sure I can’t get you something?”

  “Just Gideon’s head,” Oliver said, his gaze going back to the skull.

  “I’ll do my best.” Nick escaped into the sunshine. He decided to walk to the downtown area. The sun shone down from a sky so blue it hurt his eyes. A light breeze wafted off the lake and lifted his hair.

  He found himself watching for Eve. Maybe she and Bree would be walking the children home from the park. Things were strained between them since their discussion about Will Donaldson, but at least she’d admitted she had no feelings for the man now.

  Just around the corner from the coffee shop, he saw a familiar black hat and red beard. “Zack? We’ve got to quit meeting like this!”

  His German Baptist friend turned at the sound of his voice and grinned. “Nick! Has the geocaching bug bitten you that much? This is a rather obscure event for you to be attending.”

  “What planet do you live on, buddy? Haven’t you seen the papers? I thought Eve was killed by a serial killer, but I found her up here.”

  Zack pursed his lips. “I rarely read the paper. It’s full of distressing information that pollutes the mind. Is Eve all right?”

  “Yes, she’s fine.” Nick saw the GPS unit in Zack’s hand. “You’re here looking for a cache?”

  Zack nodded. “I live about an hour away. I come here often with my group.”

  “The folks I met in Bay City?”

  “No, the ones from Marquette. Though a big event is going on this weekend, so my friends from Bay City are here as well.”

  “What were their names again—the guys I met in Bay City?”

  “Judd and Hugo. Why?”

  Judd. That’s who Nick was thinking of. The quiet ones were the ones to watch out for, and this guy just kept cropping up. “Where is Judd?”

  “Out scouting the area.” Zack frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “How well do you know him?”

  “We enjoyed the new adventure for a year before I moved. He’s quiet but studious.”

  Studious. Smart enough to put all those obscure clues on the Web. “I think I need to talk to him,” Nick said. “Can we meet for coffee?”

  “As you wish.” Zack glanced at his watch. “In about two hours?”

  “Great. See you then.” Nick headed on down the street. He was probably going down a rabbit trail with his suspicion of Judd, but not a single alternative path had opened up to him yet.

  When he neared the jail, he saw several cop cars screech to a stop in front. Picking up his pace, he hurried to the building and rushed inside. He might be ordered out since he was technically suspended, but he hoped Montgomery would throw him a bone or two.

  “They found her shoe outside the bar this morning,” one de
puty said as Nick entered the building. “And blood spatter on some leaves in the woods.”

  “A murder?” Nick asked Montgomery, who stood hiking up his pants by the watercooler.

  “Yeah, some friends reported a young woman missing this morning in Houghton.”

  “Any resemblance to Eve?” Nick asked.

  “Well, she’s a blonde,” Montgomery said.

  “Age?”

  “Hannah Pelton, thirty-two. We’ve got a picture,” the deputy said. “I’ll call Bree. Maybe she and Samson can track her.” He hesitated. “I’ve got papers to deliver to Eve.”

  “From Patti?”

  Montgomery nodded.

  “I’ll go with you.” If only Nick could shake some sense into his sister-in-law.

  TOURISTS PACKED THE OUTSIDE SEATING AREAS. EVE CLAIMED the last table available outside the coffee shop. Bree was getting their drinks, and both children and the dog had wanted to go inside with her. Through the window, Eve could see the children press their noses to the pastry display case. Nick’s parents had returned to their hotel for a rest.

  The sun was hot on her head. She glanced around the town street and saw Nick approaching at a brisk pace. Deputy Montgomery lumbered behind him. Patti followed with a triumphant expression brightening her sallow skin.

  Nick reached her first. “We knew this was coming,” he whispered. “Hang on, we’ll get through it.”

  Eve put her coffee down on the table. Patti’s gaze locked with hers. There was no remorse in her sister’s face.

  Montgomery stopped in front of her. “Eve, I’m sorry, but I have to serve you with these papers. Your sister is suing for custody of Keri.” The deputy handed her the bundle.

  Eve shook her head. “No.”

  “Sorry, Eve. You have to take them.”

  “You can’t have her,” Nick said, raising his voice. “Just so you know. We’ll fight you every step of the way.”

  Patti tossed her mousy hair back from her face. “She’s my daughter.”

  “The initial hearing is set for Wednesday,” Montgomery continued. “One o’clock. The judge will decide temporary custody until the full trial.”

  Maybe an emotional plea would work. Surely there was some kind of feeling left between her and her sister. Eve’s chair scraped as she stood. “Don’t do this, Patti. Please. Keri has had enough upheaval in her life.” She reached out and took Patti’s cold hand.