“That could be a bad thing for us,” Josh assessed. “But I see a trip to Idaho in our future. Maybe we could use Travis’s motorhome after all.”
Skye made a face that mimicked her own daughter’s. “I’d rather rent a house on a short-term lease somewhere in the area. And there are all kinds of lodges up there with guest cottages. Sierra should have room to run around and play. And then there are the dogs to consider.”
Josh looked around the table at the others and cracked a smile. “Obviously, we’re not as mobile as we used to be.”
“Speaking of which,” Skye began, glancing over to where Sierra sat on the other side of the island playing with her dolls. Lowering her voice, she turned back to Josh. “We have to face facts. Sierra’s not happy coming to work with me every single day. Or you, for that matter. I think she’d prefer staying at home with the dogs and having her toys around rather than coming into town with us.”
“I thought it might get better after we moved to the mainland,” Josh admitted. “Where the commute is much shorter than taking the ferry and means spending less time cooped up in the car. The movies on the DVD player don’t even entertain her like they used to.”
“Exactly. I thought the move would help, too. Not even Kiya seems to be able to placate her when we’re in the van.” Skye chewed her lip. “But let’s face it, Sierra’s just not happy when we’re at the office. I think she acts out, throws a fit over nothing because she wants to be at home. I suppose I could run the Foundation from here. After all, Judy is certainly capable of staffing the office, dealing with the phone calls along with any other issues that come up.”
“Anything more than routine stuff, I just pass off to Skye anyway,” Judy acknowledged with a lift of her shoulder. “I didn’t realize Sierra wasn’t happy.”
“Yeah. During the time you were on vacation, she’s only gotten worse when she doesn’t get her way, or doesn’t get my attention, especially if I’m on a phone call, she’ll pitch a fit. Josh and I have talked about hiring a nanny. But that means an agency sending out a total stranger applying for the job. I’m not sure I trust anyone I don’t know to care for my kid while I’m a thousand miles away trying to catch the bad guys. It’s a dilemma we have to face sooner rather than later. And if we take this case on, we just moved up the discussion to the front burner.”
Josh got up to clear away the table. “My mom and dad won’t be back from their cruise for another two weeks. We could just leave her with Lena and Travis here at the house where she could stay in her own room.”
Skye shook her head. “I’m not sure it’s fair to Lena and Dad to drop what they’re doing and rush over to babysit all the time. They have their own busy lives. We shouldn’t keep asking them all the time to pick up the slack.”
“Right now, taking her off to a strange place might just make her attitude worse,” Leo supplied.
Skye sensed an opening. “What are you getting at?”
Leo looked sheepish for about ten seconds before starting his pitch. “My cousin could use a summer job. I can vouch for her, too. She’s in grad school at UDub, going for her Master’s in early childhood education. She’s great with kids.”
Skye tilted her head to study Leo. “And this is the first I’m hearing about your cousin? How does she feel about you trying to hire her out as a summer nanny?”
“Emmadine’s okay with it. Emmadine Duvalier is her name. I could get her over here this weekend, and you could talk to her yourself.”
Josh lifted a shoulder in Skye’s direction. “It wouldn’t hurt to talk to her.”
Skye looked at Leo. “How does Emmadine feel about spirit guides? Wolves especially.”
Leo grinned a toothy smile. “Emmadine’s from my mom’s side of the family, heavy on the Creole lineage. But she’s not big on voodoo. Emmadine’s more a, ‘I gotta see it to believe it’ kind of gal.”
“Huh. So, she’s more a fan of science rather than superstition? Is that it?” Skye prodded, needing more details.
“Something like that.”
“Hmm. As long as your cousin understands that we’re a family of Native traditions. I wouldn’t want her to freak out the first time Sierra howls in Kiya’s direction.”
Leo’s eyes twinkled with amusement as if he’d just thought of a private joke. “Yeah, I’d love to see her face the first time Sierra starts having a convo with her wolf spirit. Or when the dogs react to Kiya as pack leader.”
“Are you trying to freak out your cousin? Is that it?”
As if to prove that very thing might be a problem for any outsider that took the job, Kiya, the silver wolf, howled loud enough that the sound reverberated off the walls.
From the other side of the room, Sierra responded, abandoning her dolls and started giggling. She ended up in the corner with the dogs, singing to Kiya in a blend of toddler babble and Native dialogue.
Skye exchanged looks with Leo. “That’s the reason we’ve never hired a nanny. We don’t want any of this showing up on Facebook or social media, no posting intrusive, shaky videos to Instagram no matter how funny or cute anyone thinks Sierra’s activities might be. These things are private. We want them to stay that way.”
“No worries. I’ll make sure Emmadine understands.”
“Good. Although your cousin might want to prepare to embrace her Creole side when it comes to Kiya. As I understand Creole traditions, it includes an entire volume about spirit walkers. I wouldn’t want Emmadine to be alone here when she meets a few of ours face to face.”
****
After getting ready for bed that night, Skye crawled under the covers next to Josh, draped an arm across his chest. “How do you really feel about hiring a nanny?”
“Scared. But I trust Leo. And he wouldn’t steer us to his cousin unless she’s the right fit. You?”
“I’m terrified of making the wrong decision. I can handle it when I make a mistake, but when it comes to Sierra, I want her happy. She’s not. She’ll start pre-kindergarten in the fall. I received a reminder about it a week ago via email. Remember when we signed her up? But who are we kidding, our daughter isn’t like the other kids.”
“But she’s no freak, either,” Josh pointed out.
“Of course, she’s not. But as long as we’re not sure how to handle the whole Kiya thing, we’ll worry about the other kids treating her like one. I won’t put her in a bubble, though. Not ever. She needs to learn to be around other kids and learn to handle how difficult it is sometimes.”
“Pre-kindergarten seems a long way off. Right now, I’m more concerned about taking on a case with no bodies. How the hell are we gonna find this guy? I’m the one who talked to Grayhawk back in January. Remember? He’s one helluva good cop. But if he can’t catch this asshole and the FBI can’t, how will we be able to do it?”
“Good question. But don’t you think it’s weird that Judy and Reggie picked the very campground where Sara showed up? That has to mean something. Even I’m not jaded enough to ignore how eerie that is.”
“I haven’t seen Reggie this fired up about a case since he met Judy. He’s ready to head to Idaho tomorrow.”
“So is Judy. Which means we need to rein in some of their enthusiasm with the facts. Might as well start over breakfast tomorrow.” She rolled over and reached for her phone.
“Wait a minute. What are you doing? I thought we agreed to spend Saturday and Sunday at the farmhouse and finish putting in the spring garden before the cookout on Monday.”
“We did. But that was before Sara Grayhawk made her presence known. Now’s the time to send out texts to everyone before they finalize their weekend plans. The sooner they know what we’re up against, the better we’ll be able to hit the ground running.”
Two
No one wanted to wait until Tuesday to start the investigation. That was the feedback from the texts. So on that Saturday morning, the team showed up for a working breakfast—Belgian waffles cooked to a golden crisp and their choice of toppings.
/> Skye manned the waffle iron while Josh put out fresh strawberries, blueberries, apricot butter, whipped cream, and pecans. He even squeezed fresh orange juice.
People milled about in the kitchen, some offering to help while others discussed the Mariners’ chances of making it all the way to the World Series. Over second and third cups of coffee, the programmers lobbied for creating a new game. Josh was open to suggestions but reminded them that before moving on to new worlds, Desolation Zone, their latest game, needed to have more positive feedback from users and be free of bugs.
The meal was loud and noisy. Dogs darted underfoot while Sierra, still dressed in her pajamas, pulled a wagon full of her favorite toys from one corner of the room to the other. She danced along to the music from Frozen that played in the background. Every now and again, she’d stop to show off her dolls.
Which proved Skye’s theory that Sierra was happiest being at home. Or maybe she just liked being around people.
Either way, there was no talk of missing girls or murder. Not until Josh whisked Sierra upstairs for a rare morning nap. After nodding off at the table, her little face almost landing in her syrupy waffle, the tot could be kept out of earshot.
The place to review and open the book on homicide was their home office. Skye had turned their stylishly decorated study into a conference room. At least it might’ve been stylish if not for the clutter. Boxes containing file folders were stacked in one corner. In another, an ugly, metal storage cabinet held an overflowing supply of missing person posters that went back twenty years. Some of the people on the posters had been found, their bodies located, their murders solved. Unfortunately, most were still outstanding, unaccounted for, still needing a resolution to a puzzling disappearance. Then there were the three laptops set up along the bank of windows. These computers acted as servers to the Artemis Foundation website, a site that got more hits every single day.
The team had gathered around a long, cherry wood table, eager to try their hand at another case, no matter the daunting tangled web of the hunt or how difficult the journey might become down the road. The start of a new case always brought a flurry of adrenaline with it.
Skye had written fifteen names in black on two whiteboards, broken down between the first seven victims taken during the first part of the decade and then the second half of the decade when eight other victims had joined the same club. Their pictures had been taped next to their names. The dates they’d gone missing had been scrawled next to each girl.
For easier visual reference, Skye had broken the series down in chronological order. “As you can see, Sara Grayhawk is the first one we know about. Doesn’t mean that there isn’t another first out there, just the one that got Reggie and Judy’s attention. We’ll start with the basics. On the afternoon of Thursday, May 20, 2010, thirteen-year-old Sara got on her bike and rode from her house, where she lived with her mother to her grandmother’s house, who lived just down the street. We’re talking about a distance that’s less than a half-mile. Sara’s mom was a teacher. She’s now retired. But that Wednesday afternoon, she had a parent-teacher conference about one of her students who’d been giving her trouble, acting out in class. The parent thing ran long, and Sarah’s mom didn’t arrive home until after five o’clock. But earlier, Mom had called Sara to tell her that when school let out, Sara was to head over to her grandmother’s house and stay there until she could pick her daughter up after the meeting.
“What we know about that afternoon is that around three-thirty Sara got off the bus in front of her house. She went inside, grabbed some snacks and a soft drink out of the fridge and headed to her grandmother’s house on her silver, Huffy cruiser. She’d gotten it for her birthday in March. Sara hopped on her bike, headed down the street. Short trip. But somewhere along the way, in that short amount of time, someone plucked her off her bicycle and disappeared with the girl. The bicycle was found in a drainage ditch off to the side of the road, not fifty feet from her grandmother’s front porch. We know that Sara was where she was supposed to be. She was doing exactly what her mother had told her to do.”
“With the bike left in the ditch, how can anyone conclude that this is a runaway?” Leo remarked.
“Good question. But what we want to know from law enforcement is this, did anyone test her bike for DNA? And is the bike still in evidence? Who has possession of that bike? Did the authorities give it back to the family or what? Maybe now would be a good time to bring up Quade Grayhawk, brother to Sara. At the time this all went down, he was a twenty-two-year-old raw recruit, right out of Boise State with a degree in criminal justice. He’d been wearing his uniform less than two weeks when his sister went missing. At the time of the crime, Quade was on the other side of the Rez dealing with a domestic dispute between a man and his wife.”
“An abusive husband?” Judy asked.
“Nope. Abusive wife. The wife was notorious for losing her temper. She’d been diagnosed with a borderline personality disorder. According to her court-ordered counseling sessions, this woman loved beating people up, especially her spouse.”
“Wow,” Judy remarked. “How many women are out there like that?”
Skye flipped a few pages of her notes before turning back to Judy. “More than you might suspect. They fly under the radar. They’re female. When anyone talks abuse, it’s usually the man we talk about. Given any situation, women can certainly be the main aggressors. They mostly live life under the umbrella of normalcy, just like their male counterparts, and other narcissists and sociopaths.”
Playing catch up to the rest, Winston Reeker took the opportunity to use his SurfacePro tablet and the ton of notes he’d taken since getting the text message late last night. “Is this person, this abusive female, considered a suspect?”
“Everyone’s considered a suspect, except for this particular woman since the incident is on record as occurring around the same time that Sara went missing. Further, it also eliminates the spouse and Grayhawk himself.”
Winston nodded and swiped his tablet again. “Speaking of which, I looked him up online. The info I gathered says that Grayhawk made Captain two years ago despite not having solved any of these disappearances. Although he and Sergeant Tanoose did bust a major drug ring that was supplying meth to the Reservation. Hence, the promotion from Lieutenant to Captain. In the time that he’s been on the force, Grayhawk has fast-tracked up the ladder. From all indications, he’s respected, and he’s good at what he does. Which brings up the question, if he’s doing such a great job, why do these girls keep disappearing?”
“The drug bust showcases the man’s ability and his territorial streak, the one Skye mentioned last night,” Josh added as he joined the others after getting Sierra settled upstairs. “He did it without the usual federal agencies involved, no small task. Never underestimate a motivated Indian.”
Skye flashed a grin. “Aww, from my Nez Perce bloodline, I’ll take that as a compliment. Although Grayhawk's particular one-man show will need to be addressed at some point. For now, let’s not get sidetracked. We’re here to focus on the victims, then down the road, we’ll deal with Mr. Hotshot when the situation arises.”
She cleared her throat. “The second victim, Holly Whitmore, was taken exactly twenty-six weeks to the day on a Wednesday in November, the eighteenth. Her mother sent her to the store a few blocks away to buy a cake mix and some canned icing for her dad’s birthday, which was that night. Holly was twelve when she vanished. She never came home from the trip to the store.”
Leo laid a hand over his heart. “How sad. I’m already beginning to feel my heart break for these girls. It sounds like they never even stood a chance.”
Skye forced a smile. “The only time we do happy around here is when we catch the bastard doing this. And right now, we’re still stuck in 2010.”
“Is it significant that he strikes around a holiday?” Judy asked. “In May, it’s before Memorial Day. In November, it’s the week before Thanksgiving.”
“Dun
no. Look for any other pattern like that, though. This might be significant since Victim Number Three, Denise Littletree, was sixteen at the time. She went missing after a Valentine’s Day dance. So who knows? Holidays just might come into play, triggering anger or some weird performance issues. At the time, the cops grilled Denise’s boyfriend, the boy she’d gone to the dance with, a seventeen-year-old named Jaime Knight, who was old enough to drive and had his own car. But Jaime claimed he’d dropped Denise off well before her curfew. Turns out, when they bothered to check his story, Jaime was telling the truth. The cops could verify his claim because Denise was caught on a neighbor’s home security system walking back toward town after Jaime had dropped her off.”
“Doesn’t mean he didn’t circle back and lure her into his vehicle, kill her, bury the body, and go on like nothing ever happened,” Reggie pointed out.
Skye nodded and smiled. “I like the way you think. Nice job of getting inside a killer’s head, but in this case, it didn’t happen. Jaime’s alibi was airtight. He’d dropped Denise off, drove home, switched cars, hopped into the family SUV to accompany his parents to a funeral the next day in Jackson, Wyoming. Jaime’s grandfather had died, which was verified after another seven-hour intense interrogation. Jaime didn’t take Denise. But after that night, she was also never seen again. And if you scan the list on the board, you’ll see a familiar name. Fast forward a couple of years, and Jaime’s little sister falls victim to our perp. Gabby Knight was thirteen and listed as Victim Number Eight. She’s the first one listed at the top on the second whiteboard.”
Josh shook his head. “Hey, do we know how to bring down the festive holiday spirit around here or what?”
“It’s hard to hear, I know. But there’s something else interesting about Denise. About six weeks after she disappeared, the cops suddenly decided to list her as a runaway. It came to light that her stepfather had been abusive to both her and her mother, and they thought that was a good enough reason for Denise to take off. At the time, Grayhawk was adamant that she should remain a part of the investigation. And it looks like he’s remained steadfast over the years that she fell victim to our perp. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have included her on the Wall of Shame.”
Forgotten Bones Page 4