His Garden of Bones (Skye Cree Book 4)

by Vickie McKeehan

  A baby.

  He’d sensed something different about tonight but he’d never dreamed it would include a toddler—a child who could belong to him.

  Lost in that lofty goal, he lost track of time while the mother had strapped the child into a car seat. He completely missed the Taurus backing out of the drive and roaring off. Blinking out of his fugue state, he needed to catch up. He pushed down on the accelerator causing the van to screech down the street. Ahead, he spotted taillights at the stop sign on the corner.

  “Patience,” he muttered, slowing down to a crawl. “Let her get where she’s going. Don’t fuck this up.”

  When the Taurus took off, he stayed put, backing off to give her the necessary space. It wouldn’t do to have her think someone followed her or spot the tail. He kept the van at a slow twenty-five falling behind even farther as they wound their way through the neighborhood.

  To his surprise, mother and baby didn’t go very far. The redhead finally stopped in front of an eclectic building that offered small, renovated apartments built over first-floor shops with a parking garage next door.

  Shadowing her all the way to the lot meant another wait for her to get out of the car. He watched as she unstrapped the kid from its special seat before making his move. Checking his image in the rearview mirror, he made sure his disguise was still in place.

  As she entered the building carrying the groceries and her sleeping child, he caught the door before it closed shut and followed her inside to the tiny lobby, past the mailboxes, and up the stairs.

  “Are you new?” the redhead asked over her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

  Adjusting his voice to a whisper, he played out the part. “I just moved in yesterday. You look like you have your hands full. Want me to take your bag, help you to your front door?”

  “That’s nice of you but I can manage. After all this time, I’m used to it.”

  Pretending came easy as he continued the climb. “When you have a baby it must take ten extra hands to make it from the car to the door.”

  By the redhead’s silence Dillard could tell she’d started to grow suspicious. Before reaching her apartment on the third floor, she picked up her pace. He saw that she cuddled the baby tighter.

  The timing had to be perfect.

  From his pocket he withdrew the hypodermic needle and readied his method of attack just as the redhead stuck the key in the lock. As the door squeaked open, he put the syringe up to her neck, plunged the tip into her skin.

  He shoved her inside before she collapsed on the floor of the entryway. Nimbly, he caught the baby up in his arms and grabbed the grocery sack. The darkness of the apartment forced his eyes to adjust. Once around the place he made certain they were alone and used his leg to move the unconscious redhead farther into the room before pushing the door closed. While he bounced the baby he decided how best to get them back out to his truck.

  That’s when inspiration struck.

  He crammed the baby down into the stroller, picked the redhead up off the floor, slinging her dead weight over his shoulder.

  When she let out a low moan, he patted her ass and said, “Be a good girl now and don’t scream. Otherwise I’ll have to cut you and leave you behind. So be the good mommy I know you probably are—because I’m taking the baby anyway.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Unaware of the latest abduction, Josh sat inside his office with another type of mystery on his mind—the bones found on the beach at Alki Point. How had so many ended up at that particular spot?

  If the bones were from some kind of serial killer, where had they been all this time? Not only that, but if a serial killer had murdered so many children why had there been no public accounts of so many disappearances noted in public records. He’d stayed up late into the night researching old newspaper articles on the subject. The lack of information had caused him to move on past the serial killer angle to his initial gut reaction that day on the beach.

  He’d spent the first hour of his morning surfing the Internet, going through the list of all the maritime disasters in the area. The only other explanation, other than the Dix going down, pointed to the Pridewin Star, a steamship that sank in the general area in 1897 carrying mail, freight, and passengers on their way from Seattle to the Klondike gold fields of Alaska.

  On a foggy night in August, the Pridewin Star had veered too close to shore striking an underwater rock formation. It went down within ten minutes taking all eighty-eight souls onboard to the bottom of the ship channel. The manifest had included the usual supplies to help miners get through the cold winter. But for years rumors persisted that among those lost had been children slated for use as cheap labor in the mining camps. Back then, it had been common practice for poor families to farm out their kids, especially boys aged six to twelve, to work farms or whatever jobs they could get. Once there, the kids would send their wages back home to help with expenses.

  On the phone with a grouchy medical examiner Josh had spent ten minutes trying to nudge Bayliss toward some sort of dialogue. At the risk of pissing the surly coroner off more, he tiptoed around what he wanted. “Look, I’ve been searching the Internet to see what I could find. You’ve had a couple days now to assess those bones. I’d like to know your conclusion.” Before Bayliss could interrupt, he went into his theory about the Pridewin Star.

  After summing up, he expected an argument, but was shocked to hear Bayliss accept what he’d managed to cobble together.

  “I considered the Pridewin Star as the source of the bones. But I admit spending too much time on the idea these kids came from the Dix. There’s really only one way to be sure though. I’ve decided to call in a batch of archaeologists to solve this one.”

  “Okay, that’s good. How long before we know something definitive?”

  “Months. It’s the simplest way to some kind of resolution. I could do testing on them but let’s face it, I know by the looks of them they’re at least several decades old. Who knows why they surfaced when they did.”

  “Probably the heavy rain we’ve had this month. I appreciate you taking my call.”

  “No problem. I’m always available for a reasonable discussion. As long as you know it could take as long as a year before we know anything.”

  “I understand. Will you let me know when you get the results?”

  “Sure.”

  Josh heard a click in his ear, abruptly ending the call. As he hung up the phone, he glanced up and saw Travis standing in the doorway. “What brings you to Seattle?”

  “Country Kitchen was shorthanded. I often become fry cook in a pinch. Plus, I wanted to talk to Skye. Her attitude Sunday afternoon toward Chenoa was disappointing and appalling to say the least.”

  “So you noticed?” Josh said with humor.

  “Noticed? It’s been two days and I still feel the frost. Chenoa’s convinced Skye hates her.”

  “Look, I don’t want to get in the middle of this. The best thing for both of you is to sit down and work this thing out.”

  “I will, but first I want your advice on what to say. Chenoa’s a big part of my life now. I’d like the two of them to get along. No more get-togethers like Sunday night.”

  “For what it’s worth after talking to Skye, I think she knows she was out of line.”

  “Really? She said that?”

  “If you just talk to her and explain how important Chenoa is in your life. I’m sure you’ll be able to broker a peace between the two of you. How serious is it with Chenoa?”

  “I was leaning that way before I got the two women in the same room together. I wasn’t sure any of us would survive those four awkward hours. I’m sure that profiler thinks we’re off the charts.”

  “He’s seen worse.”

  “Is that what he said? Never mind. I don’t really want to know. I think about a repeat of Chenoa and Skye together and get pains in my stomach. What if they don’t ever get along? What’s the point in moving forward with Che
noa? I don’t want an encore performance of Sunday night. That’s for sure. Seeing firsthand how the two most important women in my life don’t seem to be able to stand looking at each other is frustrating.”

  “Then what do you want from me?”

  “Your wisdom, your insight into Skye’s mindset would be a start. Why was she so upset?”

  Josh cocked a curious brow at his father-in-law. Something about the man’s desperation reminded him of the time he first met Travis. “So I shouldn’t point out that the two of us didn’t exactly have the most auspicious start?”

  “We get along well enough now, don’t we? If you have any idea why Skye had such a negative reaction to Chenoa you should tell me.”

  With some reluctance, Josh hit the same high points Skye had gone over with him Sunday.

  Travis shifted his feet. “What does age have to do with anything? Before you ask outright, Chenoa’s forty, will be forty-one in two months. And yeah, I’ve known she’s a little too focused on herself, her achievements with her horses, her own horse ranch. But she was raised around horses. I don’t mind it so much if she’d stop obsessing over her own self-importance. At times, the animals are the only things we have to talk about. The clothes thing is a separate preoccupation altogether and annoys me more than I’ve let on.”

  Josh sent him a puzzled look as the floodgates seemed to open and Travis let loose with a long list of issues he had with his new girlfriend. Obviously, Travis had been holding back. But for how long? As Josh sat there listening he got the impression the relationship had been going on a lot longer than a few weeks. He let Travis complete the tally before he sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers together.

  “Sounds like to me the two of you don’t have all that much in common after all, except for maybe the four-legged animals you sell and she likes to ride. Are you sure this is the woman you want to go to the mat for with Skye?”

  Travis let out a long, exasperated sigh. “See, that’s the thing. I’m torn. Sunday night I couldn’t even do a decent job of refereeing.”

  “You shouldn’t have to referee, Travis.”

  “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

  “Did you know Skye rented her apartment?”

  Travis dropped his jaw. “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope.” Josh went into the story about Hank and Melina Fielding.

  “That’s sound like the only situation where Skye would’ve let go of that studio. So this Fielding guy is also your contractor on the motel job?”

  “I intended to ask you about contractors Sunday evening but things took a different direction and got a little weird. I need your advice about the whole project. Hank’s made some progress but hasn’t hired a work crew yet. If you could take some time to point him to one or two decent carpenters, I’d really appreciate it.”

  “I’ll stop over there while I’m in town. You trust this Hank Fielding?”

  “Let’s just say that I hope he works out for the sake of his wife and baby. I don’t think Skye would have the heart to evict them if things go south. But as long as Hank shows up and makes an effort, continues to make progress on the renovation, he’ll have a job. If not, we’ll have a sticky situation on our hands. So let’s hope Hank is a workhorse.”

  Skye brought Atka to the office with her every day and right now the dog needed a potty break. She’d just snapped his leash in place and stepped into the hallway to head downstairs when she spotted Travis getting off the elevator.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said.

  “Okay. We’re headed outside. You’re welcome to join us. How’s the girlfriend today?”

  “What do you care? You were rude and insufferable Sunday night. You’ve never once embarrassed me the way you did until I saw your ugly side during dinner. And in front of a man I respected and admired, not to mention the woman in my life.”

  She pushed the arrow button for down and said quickly, “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t tell me, tell her,” Travis snapped.

  “I will. Happy now?”

  “No.”

  She frowned at the elevator when it dinged. The doors opened, she stepped into the car with an attitude. But then she realized her father didn’t look so much angry as distressed. Losing patience, she snapped, “Do you plan to tell me what’s wrong any time soon or do I have to play twenty questions?”

  “Chenoa’s pressuring me to get married.”

  Since that’s the last thing she’d expected him to say, her mouth fell open. “What? After dating for two weeks? What kind of woman does that? It’s ridiculous. And you expect me to apologize to her for being rude? I think this woman is the one who should back off twisting your arm about marriage at such an early stage in your relationship.”

  “Uh, I’ve known Chenoa for a lot longer than two weeks.”

  Even though they’d reached the lobby, that statement had Skye stopping dead in her tracks. “Oh really? How much longer?”

  “Add a hundred more weeks to that and you’ll have the whole picture.”

  She felt her jaw tighten as she grinded her teeth. Distracted with the disclosure, she almost stumbled out of the opening, but caught her balance in time before her foot got lodged in the gap between the elevator doors. Atka lurched forward, pulling her into the building’s atrium and beyond to the revolving doors.

  While Christmas music drifted from the overhead speakers, Skye tossed her father a frosty glare. “Let me get this straight. Are you telling me you’ve been dating that woman for two full years and I never heard of her before last week?”

  “You might try calling her something else besides that woman.”

  “Why? I’ll call her whatever I want.”

  “Skye, in case you haven’t noticed, Chenoa’s part of my life now.”

  Suddenly it all became clear. The way Chenoa had taken over the dinner party, not like a newcomer but rather a woman who was used to being at her lover’s house. Skye felt incredibly foolish. Why hadn’t she wondered before now about her father’s personal life? Because before now, it had never occurred to her that he had one.

  “Oh, I saw how much a part of your life she is for myself Sunday night. She’s incredibly self-absorbed. What exactly do you two have in common?” Skye held up her free hand and added, “Never mind. I don’t care. I think you two are all wrong for one another.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “It’s obvious she walks all over you. You barely contributed anything to the conversation Sunday night. Not only that, she talks about herself constantly.” Again Skye held up a hand. “It’s your life. Do what you want. But I’ve never known you to let anyone pressure you into doing anything you didn’t want to do. So you obviously want to… Marry that woman, no matter how self-centered she is.”

  With that defiant attitude hanging between them, they made their way through the revolving doors outside onto a grassy area designated for pets. It wasn’t the chilly December air that had her feeling so raw but the idea her father would even consider marriage to such an arrogant, narcissistic woman.

  “You obviously don’t approve of Chenoa,” Travis accused.

  “What difference does it make? I’m not the one hooking up with a woman whose name sounds like she works at a strip joint.”

  “Chenoa is not a stripper,” Travis insisted. “She’s classy in her own way.”

  “I’ll take your word for it and alert the media. If you’re lucky the announcement might make Seattle Today.”

  “Now there’s the smartass girl I love. I’d like your word that you’ll try harder to get along with her. That’s why I’m here.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “What do I care? Your type of woman is obviously a snotty female who looks down her nose at the rest of us. If she’s the kind of person you want as your significant other, who am I to stand in your way to happiness? Be sure to let me know when you decide on the big day. I’ll make sure I’ve gone shopping and picked out a suitable outfit for the occasion
.”

  With that, Skye stalked off into the chilly December wind leading Atka to do her business somewhere else.

  Eight hours into the kidnapping, Skye and Josh were still oblivious to the crime. It hadn’t made the news yet and since no one had contacted them through the foundation, the two went about their business as usual looking for any homicides Leo might’ve overlooked that fit their serial killer’s method.

  They sat huddled together in a small conference room at the Seattle PD going through boxes of cold case files looking for any other victims who’d suffered mutilation before death.

  While Atka napped under the table at their feet, Josh grumbled, “Our tax dollars need to be better spent on keeping these kinds of details current. Imagine being able to log on to a software program and pull this kind of information about decades-old cases and be able to use the details for comparison. I mean, I’m aware there’s Encase® Forensics, a database that allows sharing of evidence. But our tax dollars need to be better spent computerizing the city’s cold case files.”

  “Maybe you should get Leo, Reggie or Winston to expand what they do for us. You guys could sell the application to Seattle PD and make a fortune. Speaking of Winston, does he seem distracted to you lately?”

  “I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, other than, I’m pretty sure he has a major crush on one of the testers.”

  “Which one?”

  “Rhonda Braddock.”

  “The little blonde? Aww, that’s sweet.”

  “It would be if she returned the interest. I don’t think she does.”

  “Why do you say that? Is Rhonda with someone?”

  “I have no idea. I do my best to stay out of the personal lives of my employees.” He cut her a hard glance. “You’d be wise to follow suit.”

  “But since Winston is so sweet and also a volunteer at the foundation…”

  “Skye, let it go. I know you’d just love to play matchmaker. Pairing him up with Rhonda is a mistake,” Josh concluded. “Start interfering in the personal lives of people and you…”