I ignored Keyes and kept up with Jack. The odd word from his phone conversation was making it through.
The case just took another turn.
Chapter 31
The call came from Rick Lane, a supervisor with the FBI Evidence Response Unit, and he told us we needed to get to Keyes’s cabin immediately.
The smell reached out of the cabin like an invisible hand, grabbing hold. Maybe it was because I knew what was inside.
It overshadowed the scent of Jack’s cigarette, reducing its strength to a talc powder. Glancing over at the rest of the team, I saw they were experiencing the same reaction, except for Jack of course. The man seemed untouchable.
The stout forensic supervisor waited inside the front door. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn he wanted to run out of the place, but his legs had him grounded to the floor. Lane shook hands with the four of us, ending with Jack.
“What I told you over the phone? Yeah, it doesn’t even begin to describe the real thing. This way.” He turned and we followed him through the living area to the bathroom. “Found it in the toilet. The smell’s enough to really make the eyes water in here.”
Jack went in ahead of us and stood over the toilet. We were in the hallway watching him. His eyes pinched shut for an instant, and I wondered if the smell, combined with what he saw, got to him.
I had rushed to a conclusion too quickly. His energy spoke of angry determination.
“Nothing’s been touched?”
“Coburn took photos. That’s all. I wanted you and your team to see her just as she was found.”
Jack stepped out, and the rest of us took our turns inside the little room of horror.
I worked to prepare my mind to handle what I was going to see. I factored in the smell, the obvious level of decomp, the size of a toilet bowl. My fortitude slipped some when Paige came out and placed a hand on my shoulder.
It was my turn.
I took a deep breath, coughing on the acrid scent, instantly sorry for having done it. The team’s eyes were on me, but, more importantly, Jack’s were. I had to prove to him I could handle this type of thing—prove, in fact, that I could manage anything thrown my way.
I had seen a lot in my few months as part of this team. I looked down. How bad could this—
The gagging sensation gurgled in my throat and rushed up my esophagus like a speeding train.
“Looks like Pending’s gonna blow, boss.”
“Shi—” My hand snapped to my mouth. Bile coated my tongue in its acidic, slimy texture. I tried to swallow. My stomach heaved. I needed to get out of there. Now. If not, I was going to—
Time was up.
I turned to the sink beside the toilet and emptied the contents of my stomach.
“Whoa Pending.” Zachery was clapping. “Nice job. At least you missed the remains.”
Another round struck—the bile shooting up like a geyser, splatting the sink again.
Paige came behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you out of—”
“Can’t handle it.” Zachery was laughing.
“Shut up, Zach. You’re not helping,” Paige said.
I glanced over at the doorway and saw Jack. I shrugged Paige off me. “Leave. I can.” The only way I could talk was in short bursts.
“Yeah, it sure sounds like it.” She left the room, possibly angered and embarrassed by my rejection.
I had just vomited twice. Her pride was really the last thing that worried me. What if Jack thought I was incompetent for the job? What if he kicked me off the team?
I rinsed out the sink, swished the water around, and watched chunks of my stomach contents do a dance around the drain opening before they disappeared. I splashed cold water on my face and slapped my cheeks. I would take a glimpse at the remains again. This time with focus. This time without vomiting.
I braced myself on the sink for a few seconds and willed myself to go through with this. I closed my eyes and centered my vision. I coached myself—I had been there, done that.
Okay. I sprung up and positioned myself in front of the toilet.
The head of Amy Rogers sat in a bowlful of light pink water. Her brown hair swirled around her head, floating there like a twisted halo. Maggots the size of quarters fed off her flesh, crawling on her, coming out of her nostrils, mouth, and ears. Her eyes, clouded in milky decay, were wide open, as if screaming from death at the atrocity that had come to her remains.
My stomach compressed, but there was nothing left to expel. Instinctively, I laid a hand over my abdomen.
“He’s gonna blow again,” Zachery said.
When I straightened out, I was happy to see that only he was standing there. I walked past him to the front steps and took up a standing position beside Jack who was talking with Rick Lane.
“She was dead when she was decapitated,” Lane said.
Both men acknowledged me with a quick glance and then carried on with their conversation. Lane continued his point. “For one, there would have been a lot more blood. Question is how, or even why, would Keyes put the head of a victim in his toilet? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Hmm.”
Zachery and Paige joined us outside.
“Agree, boss,” Zachery said.
Paige put her hands on her hips. “Like we said before, he could have wanted to get caught.”
Jack’s eyes took in his team. I wondered what was going through his mind.
He addressed Lane. “We need to figure out when she was put in there. If it was during the last six hours, we know it wasn’t Keyes. Any time before that and Keyes could still be our killer. We need to find out where Sydney Poole is and if she’s still alive.”
“Absolutely. I’ve called in for more backup here too. We’ll be tripping over each other, but it will mean everything is covered. We won’t miss anything.”
“I have faith in that.”
Was Jack smiling?
“Of course, it’s not forensics that solve crime, it’s the investigators.”
“You’ve been drinking martinis on shift Harper? We’ve been through this. Without forensic evidence to back you guys up, nothing would be open and shut.”
After seconds of staring at each other, both men laughed.
“Come on guys. We’ve got work to do.” Lane snapped his fingers, and his expression turned serious. “We have evidence of sexual activity in the bed, and, looking at things under the ultraviolet light, there are possibly several contributors. Of course, the bedding’s been collected and will be fully analyzed. If there’s DNA to be found anywhere, we’ll find it.”
“Expect no less.” Jack pulled out a cigarette and lit up. The smoke ascended heavenward with his exhale. His eyes were on me until it dissipated and then narrowed a trace. “Want one, Kid?” He smiled the way he did when mocking me, crooked, with the right side of his mouth rising higher than the left.
“One thing that really stands out, next to the dirty bedding, is the cleanliness of the place. Anyway, I better be going.” Lane excused himself and went back into the cabin.
Jack turned to Paige. “Fill me in on your visit to the nursing home.”
“Ken Campbell was just as Barbara Wilson told us he’d be. He’s in advanced stages of Alzheimer’s. He went in and out on us a few times.”
She filled us in on a person nicknamed Ladies’ Man. “Campbell gave us the name Steve but no last name. I had Nadia do a quick check on the employees at the trucking company where Campbell and Wilson worked, but there weren’t any Steves.”
“Hmm.” Jack extinguished the cigarette on the ground.
I wondered if I were the only one thinking along these lines. “I have a question.” A second’s pause to make sure I had their attention. “Why would Keyes put the head in the toilet?”
“Pending’s got a good question. If Keyes wanted a trophy, why keep it there? He wanted to get caught? Why cut it off in the first place? None of the other victim’s heads have been found
. It’s the only bathroom in the cabin too. If he needed to go, did he pee on her head?”
“Forensics will confirm or deny that,” Jack said.
“Listen, guys, it doesn’t make sense. If Keyes is the killer, where is Poole and the remains of the other missing women? Dogs have been combing the back lot, and I haven’t heard anything from their handlers. They are down as far as the riverbank. Surely something would have come to light by now.”
“You think the head was planted in Keyes’s toilet?” Paige asked.
“I do. Yeah. I mean it would make sense, really, wouldn’t it?”
“Hmm.”
“What?” I turned to Jack. “Why hmm me right now? It makes sense.”
Jack’s intense gaze went through me.
“It does make sense. I agree.”
Paige stood ground beside me. Her agreement caught me off guard.
“All right, then, if that’s the case, where are we with other suspects?” Jack asked with his eyes glued on me. I sensed, due to my brief disrespect, not that I needed to answer.
“We still need the employment records from the gyms in the area,” Zachery offered.
“We also need the financials from Lindsay Parks,” I said.
“Okay, first thing we’re going to do is press Brad Keyes. We need to know what women were in that bed. We need to confirm that the male DNA belongs to Keyes. If our unsub was brash enough to hide a head in the man’s toilet, maybe he’s been coming here to have sex with the women.”
I nodded. “We also need to really dig deep into Keyes’s life. It started with his wife.”
“Agreed.” Zachery smiled at me.
“What are we doing standing around here then? We’ll head back and let Keyes know we found his treasure.”
“Boss—”
The team stopped moving and turned to face me. “We just said we didn’t think that it was Keyes who put the head there.”
The three of them shook their heads and kept walking.
He watched them from a hilltop, about a mile down the road. It had a clear line of sight to the cabin. The crime scene technicians and police cruisers were parked in the driveway and at the road, and there was a black SUV. The FBI had arrived, and they were there because of him.
He watched through the scope of his father’s hunting rifle, having adjusted it until he felt he could reach out and touch them. He had waited patiently for them to arrive. Now the world would take notice of him. He would make sure of it. He would prove he was something. Someone to fear. Someone to respect.
“See,” he yelled at the voice.
You are a loser.
The voice carried through the long grass that rustled in the breeze.
He focused his scope on the female. Petite with red locks of hair that reached her shoulders. The gun holster she wore was large on her frame. She looked out over the field in his direction. She was older than his regular targets, but she was beautiful.
He put a hand to his cock and rubbed until it fed him to full erection. No one was around. He unzipped his pants, freeing himself, and finished it to conclusion.
Kill her!
Do it. Prove you’re a real man!
The tremors that took his body to climax relaxed, leaving him blanketed in warmth.
The voice was loud and demanded his attention. He would satisfy it too, but this time he wouldn’t do exactly as he was told—at least not yet.
Chapter 32
An officer led a handcuffed Keyes into the integration room. He took the cuffs off and pushed Keyes toward a chair. The officer’s thought was clear in his eyes, crucify the son of a bitch.
Like before, Jack sat at the table, and I took up position in the corner of the room. The observer. Again.
“As you know, we searched the gym, your home, and your cabin,” Jack began.
“And you found nothing.”
“Actually, we didn’t find anything at the gym or your home initially, but we’re combing through them even closer. Your cabin gave us quite the find however.”
“What are you talking about?”
Jack slammed the flats of his hands onto the table. The action made Keyes jump and sit farther back. “Where is Sydney Poole?”
The plan was to push Keyes to a breaking point. While we questioned his guilt, he still needed to prove his innocence.
“What? I don’t know. What are you talking about?”
“Is she still alive?” Jack asked.
Keyes’s eyes blanked over.
Jack repeated his question, leaning across the table—his butt off the chair and his face inches from Keyes. “Poole. Is. She. Still. Alive?”
Keyes shook his head. “I…I don’t…”
“Simple question, simple answer. Last time I’m asking.”
Keyes’s eyes shot to me, but his gaze settled on Jack. “I wouldn’t know.”
“You wouldn’t know?”
“Why would I? I didn’t take those women!” Keyes’s face flushed a bright red.
The two men locked in eye contact, a battle of the wills as to who would back down first. I knew it wouldn’t be Jack.
“What did you find?” Keyes asked and turned away.
Jack kept his eyes on him a few seconds longer before retreating back to his side of the table. He opened up the file folder.
My stomach tossed, thinking about the photograph. If we leaned toward Keyes being innocent, I wondered why we’d put him through that. Jack must have agreed. He shut the file without taking anything out.
“What did you find?” Keyes repeated his question.
“We found remains of Amy Rogers in your cabin.”
“What? No. That’s…that’s not even possible.”
“Well, it was, and it is.”
“Where did you? This is crazy. I knew I should go up there more than I do.”
I pushed off the wall.
Evidence indicated that Keyes, or someone at least, held up regular attendance at the place. The cabin was kempt—no dust was on any of the furniture or floors. There were sexual fluids found on the sheets which, if not from recent activity, could have degraded beyond usefulness to a lab.
Jack told me a long time ago not to interrupt his interrogations unless it was for a damn good reason. In this case, I had to take a shot. “When was the last time you were there?”
I had expected Jack’s eyes to be full of reprimand, but, instead, I saw that he was impressed.
Keyes looked between the two of us and settled on me. “I don’t know. Years ago anyway. I tell you that.”
“Well, someone must take care of the property.”
“Yeah, it’s covered. I hire someone to empty the mailbox, cut the grass, etcetera.”
“Do they have a key for the cabin?”
“No.”
I found his response interesting, and it didn’t explain the tidy inside. “You said you were there years ago, but I think you know exactly when.” There was something in his eyes. I moved closer.
Keyes blinked rapidly. His eyes misted. “It was…” He swallowed hard. “It was not long after Leslie went missing, but I was starting to accept that she wasn’t coming back, that she wasn’t going to be found, that maybe she was even dead.” Any anger from earlier had abated and the man sat in front of us broken, with nothing more to lose. “I was lonely. I was depressed. Tristan was only a baby. He’d scream for his mother. I…I couldn’t give her to him.” He choked back tears, evidenced in the gruffness of his voice, the faraway gaze to his eyes, and the odd misalignment of his jaw as it slid right and left.
“You took women there?” I asked the question without judgment. Keyes was only a man, after all, and a man who had been undergoing a life-changing situation.
Keyes nodded.
“Did you take Amy Rogers recently?”
Keyes remained silent.
“We have to ask these questions.”
“No.” His face fell, his eyes focused down on the table. “I told you…”
; “You said you were there not long after Leslie went missing. Did you go there often?”
“What? No?” Keyes swiped the flat of his hands down his cheeks, and wiped away tears. “You think I became a male whore when she died? That I escaped my child and had sex with a bunch of women at the cabin?”
“We never mentioned a bunch of women.”
Keyes slammed his hands on the table. “It was a figure of speech.”
“And you said she died. Do you know this for a fact?”
“Impossible. I’m trying to talk to you. I’ve been cooperative, and I’m not sure the hell why. Actually, I’ll tell you why. For Leslie. She’s the only reason I’m any semblance of a good person at all.”
“There was evidence of sexual activity found on the sheets in the bedroom.”
“Well, if it’s recent, it wouldn’t be from me. You said you found Amy Rogers there?”
“Part of her,” Jack corrected.
“Part of her? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Jack gestured toward me but addressed Keyes. “Answer the agent’s question.”
“Which one?”
“How did you know Leslie was dead?”
Keyes took a choppy, deep breath. “It was something I felt in the deepest parts of me. I’d have nightmares of her, screaming and calling out to me. I wanted to help. I tried to help, but my reach was just shy of contact.” A single tear slid down his cheek, and he didn’t move to wipe it. “I tried to go about my day-to-day life. Then one day I felt very dark and empty. I felt cold.”
Keyes studied our reactions to what he was saying. “I just knew I was alone. Well, alone with Tristan. I had to be strong for him, when I felt anything but. What’s the phrase, life goes on? It’s an easy mantra to preach, a little harder to accept.”
Keyes’s words hung in the room for a few seconds, and then he continued. “Whatever you need from me, I will give it to you. I want to find Leslie—even if it’s to give her a proper burial.” His last words had his voice constricting and sounding rough. “And if we can stop this from happening to other women.”
“We’ll require your DNA,” Jack said.
“Consider it done.” He paused, seemingly unsure whether to continue. “I loved my wife, I still love her. I know what these other men are going through—an absolute nightmare. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”
Silent Graves (Brandon Fisher FBI Series) Page 14