by Mary Burton
“Nothing would keep me away,” she said.
“You don’t look well,” Blackstone said.
She smiled and locked on his gaze. “Don’t worry yourself about me.”
Ricker extended his hand to her. “We owe this moment to you.”
“Let’s hope we find Gina,” she said.
Ricker’s frown deepened. “Let’s get started.”
“Remember,” Blackstone said. “My client has complete immunity regarding any and all of the Gina Mason abduction and/or death.”
“Understood,” Ricker said.
Quinn opened the back door of the squad car and hauled out Hayward, who drew in a deep breath, tipping his face toward the cloudy sky.
“Too bad the sun isn’t shining,” Quinn quipped.
Hayward winked. “Baby, it’s always shining when you’re around.”
Quinn gripped his arm even tighter and smiled.
Hayward shifted his attention to Kaitlin and slowly looked her over. “You smell good. And your skin looks so soft. Maybe when this is over we could meet again, and I can give you another interview.”
She didn’t draw back. “Let’s see how today goes.”
“I loved to come out here. I’d sit in my tree stand over there and just enjoy the view.” He looked toward a stand of trees and then back at Kaitlin. “Remember when we all used to come out here?” Hayward teased.
Blackstone shook his head. “No chitchat, Mr. Hayward. This isn’t a social call.”
Kaitlin couldn’t help but prod him. “The Fourth of July bonfire.”
He winked. “Remember the barn? We had a good time in there.”
The barn. That, she did remember. She couldn’t even blame booze for the stupid choices of that night. She’d made them all stone-cold sober. “I’m also remembering now that Brad, Derek, and you got into a fight. Brad looked like he wanted to take your head off. What did you say to him that made him so mad?”
“Don’t answer that,” Blackstone said.
Hayward chuckled. “You know how it goes—boys will be boys.”
“Looked pretty intense,” she pressed.
Blackstone stepped between them. “Show us what you promised to show us.”
“We just got here,” Hayward said. “I’m trying to catch up with my girl.”
Ricker’s face darkened. “We’re waiting.”
“Kaitlin’s coming, right? I want her to see this. This could have been her,” Hayward teased.
She tipped her chin up a notch. “Let’s do this.”
“Can I have a cigarette?” Hayward asked. “I think better when I smoke.”
Quinn mimicked a pout. “Sorry, fresh out.”
“Come on,” Hayward coaxed. “There’s got to be a cop here who’s got smokes.”
Blackstone shook his head. “I don’t smoke.”
Ricker shrugged, held up empty hands.
Adler strode back to the cops and after a quick survey returned with a crumpled pack of Marlboros. He fished out a cigarette and a lighter from the pack and lit the tip. Hayward’s cuffs rattled as he accepted it. When he raised it to his lips, his hands trembled slightly.
“Nervous?” Kaitlin asked.
He took another pull. “Being around you always makes me weak in the knees, girl.” He took two more drags and then threw it down and ground his foot into it. “You’ve got more in that packet, Detective?” Hayward asked.
Adler tucked the packet in his pocket. “I do.”
Hayward seemed to understand he’d danced up to the line. Another minute and Adler would transport him back to jail. “Sure. Why not?”
“Where to?” Adler snapped.
Hayward nodded toward the graveled road ahead. “About a quarter mile up that way on the other side of the barn.”
“Let’s go.” Adler took him by the arm and hauled him forward.
Hayward started walking. “Showtime!”
Even with the cool breeze, Kaitlin quickly started sweating as she struggled to keep pace. If Adler had slowed up for her before, he didn’t this time. And she was glad. She didn’t want to slow him down. The priority was finding Gina.
“How you doing, girl?” Hayward glanced back over his shoulder at her.
“What’s taking you so long?” Kaitlin refused to show Hayward any weakness.
Hayward laughed. “Don’t pass out on me.”
The dirt road doglegged to the right, but Hayward turned left down a well-worn dirt path made by hunters, farmers, and most likely, moonshiners.
“When’s the last time you were here, Hayward?” Adler asked.
“I’ve been here a few times in between stints in prison. Last time was in mid-January.”
“Why return?” Adler asked.
“To see if Gina was still here. I always liked her. That hasn’t changed. No one else knew where she was, but I did. And that made it special between us.”
Kaitlin sympathized with the officers’ feelings of anger and frustration. This was a joke to Hayward. A parlor game.
Hayward ducked under a branch and pushed through the thicket of trees. “Good thing it’s early in the year. The bugs will eat you alive in the summer. One time I was here I got a terrible case of chiggers.”
Kaitlin pressed her hand to her side, keeping a sharp eye on the ground. As “fast” as she moved, Adler, Quinn, Ricker, Blackstone, and Hayward were putting distance between them. She wasn’t sure how much farther she could walk when Hayward pushed through to a small clearing.
In the center was the barn. Once it had been painted red, but in the last decade, sun, wind, and rain had stripped most of its color.
Hayward’s smile turned electric. He counted off fifty paces from the north corner and stopped at a patch of ground under a collection of young oak trees.
The untrained eye wouldn’t notice the sparse patch of vegetation or the slight dip in the land. A small part of her had hoped Gina had somehow survived, but Adler’s and Quinn’s deepening frowns telegraphed what she’d known in her heart for fourteen years.
Gina was really dead. And they were looking at a shallow grave.
INTERVIEW FILE #24
RETIRED FORENSIC INVESTIGATOR
Sunday, March 4, 2018
Sam Weston has been retired from the Richmond City Police for three years. He lives in the country now, and his small ranch-style house looks out over a pond. He’s feeding his two dozen chickens as we talk.
“The problem with that Mason scene was the weather. Right after the 911 call came in, there was a hell of a rainstorm. It was a real gully washer. The river rose, and part of the street flooded. The entire riverbank was immersed with rising water and debris.”
“Were you able to collect anything of use at the abduction site?”
“Not at first. Everything looked like it had been through a car wash. But we stayed out there for several days. Finally, one of the investigators found part of a green dress a quarter of a mile down the road. It was stuck on a tree branch. We bagged it and took it back to the lab. Gina’s mother said the fabric looked like the dress her daughter had been wearing. We did DNA testing on the fabric, and some of it matched Gina and some did not.”
“There were two blood samples on the cloth?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever identify who the second sample belonged to?”
“We thought it might be Hayward, but it wasn’t a match. We compared it to several other known sex offenders in the area, but in the end, we never came up with a match.”
“Someone else was on that road?”
“That’s my best guess.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Friday, March 23, 2018; 10:00 a.m.
Adler had the excavation crew on standby, and as soon as he gave the go-ahead, a technician equipped with ground-penetrating radar (GPR) moved into position. The technician began his search several feet away from the target area now designated with orange flags. Working slowly in a grid pattern, the technician swept the device in strai
ght lines.
The machine transmitted a gray image to a computer screen. During the first few passes, the picture produced was smooth with no signs of any discovery. But as the passes grew closer to the orange flag, small ripples appeared. No telling what was in the ground, but there was something there. Closer to the flags, the waves grew in size and frequency. The technician marked the spot where excavation could begin.
Hayward’s expression grew somber as two technicians approached with shovels. “I’m going to miss her.”
“Get him out of here,” Adler said to a uniformed officer.
“I want to stay,” Hayward countered. “I want to see Kaitlin’s face when she sees Gina again.”
Adler motioned to the officer, and he escorted Hayward back to the cruiser. Adler continued, “Blackstone, you can leave, too.”
“I’m staying. I have to look out for my client’s best interest.”
“Your client is leaving, and so are you,” Adler ordered. “I will have you arrested.”
Blackstone studied Adler’s face and seemed to sense now was not the time to push. “I want notification the instant you identify what’s in the ground.”
“I’ll let Ricker decide what he wants you to know.”
Blackstone looked as if he’d say more but turned and left.
Kaitlin moved toward Adler. She had been silent and kept her distance from Hayward. Her skin was pale and her lips drawn into a thin line. He reminded himself she was only six days out from a brutal attack. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m doing fine. Did the GPR tell them what’s in the ground?”
“We won’t know until they clear some dirt.”
“How long will it take?” she asked.
“Not long. The technicians estimate they need to dig down about two feet.”
“Okay.” She stood rigid with her arms crossed, and her gaze rarely wavered from the dig. She was upset and nervous, and this time didn’t care who saw it.
“Did Hayward ever talk about this place?” Adler asked.
“He talked about how much he enjoyed hunting in the country. I assume now this was the place. He used to talk about sitting in his tree stand hunting deer and enjoying the view.”
“He mentioned that stand. Where is it exactly?”
She scanned the tree line and pointed. “Over there. I remember because he wanted me to climb the ladder, but I got spooked and wouldn’t do it.”
Dr. McGowan, who’d arrived with the medical examiner’s team two hours ago, watched as the technicians dug. Suddenly she asked them to stop. She knelt and brushed away the top layer of soil with her gloved hand. Finally she leaned back on her heels and rubbed the back of her wrist under her chin. She rose and approached Adler.
“Is it human bones?” he asked.
“I think so,” Dr. McGowan said. She turned to Kaitlin. “What was Gina Mason wearing when you last saw her?”
“A green sundress,” Kaitlin said.
“You’re sure?” Dr. McGowan asked.
“I’ve had fourteen years to replay that night. Yes, I’m sure.”
A grim acceptance swept over the doctor. “Okay.”
“Does this mean you found her?” Kaitlin asked.
Dr. McGowan shook her head. “It means I have to talk to the detectives first.”
“You can’t just shut me out,” Kaitlin said. “Can you at least tell me what you found?”
Ricker approached. “I can shut you out.” His tone wasn’t cruel, but it was firm. “I don’t want anything or anyone compromising this case.”
“I don’t see how my being here impacts the case.”
Adler’s tone was softer. “I know you want to be here, but this is not the place for you, Kaitlin. This is what we do best, and you need to let us do our jobs.”
Kaitlin usually came out swinging with him, but this time her shoulders slumped slightly. “Sure. Of course,” she said. “Thank you, Detectives, Dr. McGowan.”
As Dr. McGowan returned to the gravesite, Adler motioned for a city police officer, and when he approached Adler instructed him to take Kaitlin home. Kaitlin’s gaze was still full of questions and emotions, but she left without a word.
When the officer and Kaitlin drove off, Dr. McGowan said, “It’s going to take some time to excavate the bones. I can tell you we unearthed remnants of green cloth.”
Anger mingled with relief. Finding Gina would be considered a win, but there was no victory in bringing home a kid in a body bag.
“Do you know if the body is male or female?” Ricker asked.
“A young female,” she said. “I’ll report back to you both when I know more.”
As the doctor moved toward the back of the excavation site, Adler turned toward the tree stand. Instinct and restless energy had him moving through the grass toward the stand.
“Where are you going?” Ricker asked, following.
“It’s a hunch.”
“What’s that mean?” he asked.
“Kaitlin said Hayward liked sitting in his tree stand.”
Adler strode toward the wooden platform mounted between two sturdy, naked branches. A makeshift ladder made of scrap wood ran up the tree in twelve-inch intervals. It looked sturdy enough to support his weight.
“What are you doing?” Ricker said as he approached.
“I want to see what Hayward saw.” He shrugged off his suit jacket and handed it to Ricker. Fifteen feet up he reached the small platform and sat.
This high he could see everything surrounding the excavation. If Hayward needed a place to sit and remember what he’d done to Gina, this would be the spot. It wasn’t uncommon for a killer to return to a victim’s burial site and relive the crime.
“What do you see?” Ricker asked.
A cold wind chilled his skin. “A bird’s-eye view of Gina’s final resting place.”
Ricker cursed, understanding the implication. “Hayward is a sick bastard.”
As Adler was turning to descend, his gaze skimmed the grassy rolling landscape. At first glance, he almost missed it, but then something about the indented patch of grass caught his attention. For several beats he said nothing, simply staring.
“What is it?” Ricker asked.
“I’ll be damned.”
Kaitlin changed into sweats and downed three over-the-counter painkillers, opting to skip the prescription meds because the sooner she was off the stuff, the better. She owed it to Gina to stay awake until Adler called. She should have rested and put her feet up. God knows she was exhausted, but the four walls of her apartment seemed to creep inward with each passing moment.
She’d already texted Adler twice but not heard back from him. He was doing his job. He would call her when he could, but the waiting was agonizing.
Finally, too restless to sit, she grabbed her phone and wallet. There was a small bar down the block. It wasn’t too far. There she could get a soda, maybe something to eat, and listen to the buzz of conversation.
Down the elevator, she pushed aside the tingle of warning and headed down the brick sidewalk. The streets weren’t too crowded yet, but after five the area offices would let out. The city found a second life after the sun set.
She pushed through the front door of the Irish pub, found a booth in the back, and ordered a soda and a bowl of chili. As she waited, her phone buzzed with a call. She didn’t recognize the number and normally didn’t answer unknown numbers, but with so much pending, she accepted the call. “This is Kaitlin Roe.”
“This is Ashley Ralston. Jennifer’s sister.”
“Ashley.” They’d not spoken in almost fourteen years. “How did you get my number?”
“I can be persuasive.”
“With whom?”
“Your apartment manager.”
She gripped her phone. She’d deal with him later.
“Look, I’m not trying to freak you out. I just want to talk about Jennifer, Erika, and Gina. Are you doing anything right now?”
“I’m at an
Irish pub grabbing a bite to eat. If you want to see me, it’ll have to be here.”
“Sure. Give me the address.”
She read the street number off the menu as the waitress set down her food and soda.
“Great, I’ll see you in twenty minutes,” Ashley said.
Kaitlin took a bite, not expecting to be so hungry, but the chili tasted good and this was her first real meal since last night’s pizza. The soda was cold and refreshing.
A couple across from her leaned in for a kiss. They were smiling and enjoying themselves. She envied their connection. She’d never really had anything like that before.
The pub was starting to fill, and she missed Ashley’s entrance until she was right on top of her. Kaitlin lowered the soda from her lips and slowly, gingerly rose.
Ashley regarded her with a mixture of curiosity, anger, and pity. Neither leaned in for a hug, so Kaitlin extended her hand to the opposite side of the booth.
Kaitlin settled in. “I’m so sorry about Jennifer.”
Ashley sat and tapped her index finger on the table. A waitress appeared, took her order of vodka soda, double. “The medical examiner’s office released her body yesterday.”
“This must be terrible for you.”
“It was. I never thought I’d ever go through something like this. After Gina vanished, it was bad enough, but this is almost unbearable.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her drink arrived, and she took a sip. “The funeral home cleaned my sister up and let me see her. I could tell they were proud of her. ‘So lifelike,’ the attendant said. I didn’t think she looked anywhere close to a living person. It was still and plastic, nothing like my Jennifer.”
“When is the funeral?”
“The viewing is tomorrow, and the service is on Sunday afternoon.”
A clawing sadness scraped the inside of her throat. She struggled for words that would make all this better but knew there was nothing she could say.
Ashley reached for a paper napkin and folded it in half and then in quarters. “She told me about your interview. She was actually relieved after you two spoke. That night had been bottled up inside her and was preventing her from being happy.” Ice clinked in the glass. She took another big swallow.