Forgotten Bones

by Vickie McKeehan

  “My husband and I divorced several years back, which means we mostly rely on each other for babysitting duties these days. We’re on a tight budget so we depend on each other to watch the kids. We schedule in advance whenever we want to go out and basically take turns. That way we each get a chance to have a social life.”

  “Where is your husband living these days?” Skye asked.

  Marion gave up the address without missing a beat. “I kept the house, and Dave moved into an apartment in town. The kids still get to see him, and he gets to pick them up from school. The arrangement works for us.”

  Without getting to speak directly to the men in the household, specifically Dave Gatwick, Gavin Jaynes, and Mark Osborne, they reluctantly moved on.

  “Do you realize that so far we’ve only managed to talk to one of the husbands?” Josh pointed out.

  “Yeah. Radford Thorpe. But we’re doing this all wrong,” Skye noted once they’d left Marion’s place. “We need to come back when the men are at home. All these women seem downright evasive. Is it on purpose, or are they really that clueless? And who bakes their own macaroons?”

  “Carla Thorpe does,” Josh said, his lips curving. “We still have the other families to speak to, the ones in town who hired Lily.”

  “But they don’t live out in the country, now do they?” Skye pointed out.

  “Yeah, but they could still own property out here somewhere. It’s not unheard of. Some of these homesteads have been in the same family for years.”

  “That’s true. Okay. We’ll soldier on. Who’s next?”

  “Danica and Victor Durbridge. If the GPS is right, their place is around the bend near a cemetery.”

  “No way. Okay, it’s official. I’m totally blown away as to why a mother would allow her daughter to babysit at these places without anyone else being there. It’s tough enough to be alone in the country. Carla Thorpe said it herself. But to have a teenage girl on her own at night for several hours and responsible for small children seems odd to me. Or am I overreacting?”

  “You’re not. I wouldn’t let Sierra do it. On top of that, if Lily’s out here by herself at night, why wouldn’t she disappear from one of these job sites instead of the way it went down?”

  “I’m beginning to think it goes back to taking each girl from the Reservation, sometimes in broad daylight. He’s thumbing his nose at the entire place and the people.”

  “Then we should put the Osbornes under a microscope. If hubby Mark feels anywhere near as superior as Lydia does, then we could be dealing with a racism issue.”

  Skye shook her head. “We already knew our killer targeted a specific type. It’s less about racism and more about his sexual urges. He’s first and foremost a pedophile, and this is his preferred age group, his preferred type. He can’t help himself, Josh.”

  It was after five by the time they reached the Durbridge compound. And compound was a good word for it. The estate’s main house sat behind an eight-foot iron fence that enclosed the property and a gate that kept out the riffraff. The gate had a button. But no one responded when they kept pushing it to get past security.

  Skye was on her phone, looking up anything she could find about the Durbridges. “That might explain all the metal. This guy Durbridge is a municipal court judge. And the cemetery that came up on GPS is located to the right, a family plot that holds graves going all the way back to before Idaho became a state.”

  “Okay. But what would make someone like the Durbridges hire Lily? Why wouldn’t they have their own nanny?”

  “Could be the nanny quit left them high and dry without giving notice. Maybe Lily was so good with kids they had to experience her babysitting skills up close.”

  Skye looked over at Josh. “They’re not gonna let us in, so we might as well go check out Lily’s clients in town. Let’s start with Dave Gatwick.”

  Their persistence paid off. It allowed them to catch four of the husbands at home after work—the divorced dad Dave Gatwick, Paul Fielding, and his wife Anna, Alex Bradshaw, and his wife Lynn, and Trace Merrick, whose wife wasn’t home. Each man seemed genuinely eager to help. But was the offer real or a clever ruse?

  On the drive back to the lodge, Josh was still behind the wheel. “After talking to everyone we could reach, what do you think? What does your gut tell you?”

  “Something’s off. It doesn’t feel right. None of it. Lily’s clients. They all seem surprised we’re here, asking questions. I know this isn’t Quade’s jurisdiction, but jeez, didn’t anyone else in authority ask the people who employed Lily as a sitter? Sheriff’s deputies? Local PD? I get the impression that there was no real investigation. Why was that?”

  “Not only that but what about some of the flighty responses we got? I’m not sure which woman was worse, Susan Jaynes, Lydia Osborne, or Marion Gatwick. The only one who seemed willing to offer up anything was Carla Thorpe.”

  “Yeah, but that angel statue sitting in the Thorpe’s garden still bugs me. And what about the weird way Thorpe kept looking at it?” Skye shuddered at the memory. “It just creeped me out.”

  “What next?”

  “I think we have to keep an open mind. Several men rocketed to the top of the list, but nobody stood out as a serial killer. But maybe…that’s because we haven’t talked to him yet. Maybe we get up tomorrow and do this all over again. Find out where the husbands work and go there. In other words, we hunt down the men who weren’t home today, check them out with an interview at their place of employment.”

  “They won’t like that.”

  Skye grinned. “Yeah. That’s the plus side. Shake the tree and see what falls out. It always makes me feel better when we end on an upbeat note.”

  Fifteen

  They stayed in—just the three of them—and threw together a pasta dish with fresh ingredients, avoiding a discussion about their suspicions or suspects in front of Sierra. After cleaning up dishes and pans, they took a long walk around the lake, stopping to watch a storybook sunset that stretched out across the sky in apricot and orange. The pups got tired, especially Cody, and so did Sierra. Skye toted her while Josh carried the Lab.

  “I miss home,” Skye said on the walk back to the lodge. “I don’t care how pretty it is here. It’s not home.”

  “My feelings exactly. I’ll put Sierra to bed. Why don’t you take a long hot shower? It’ll make you feel better.”

  “I’d like that. But it won’t change the fact I’m ready to leave this place.”

  “Get a good night’s sleep. We’ll start again tomorrow with a new attitude.”

  But once she got to bed that night, all the people Skye had talked to that day came rushing back in a blur of faces and conversations. She tried nitpicking through their words, their explanations, their body language.

  Sleep eluded her. She kept seeing that angel statue. Thorpe’s garden. She kept thinking about how odd each woman acted when questioned, almost but not quite borderline defensive. There had to be reasons why. Were the women jealous of one thirteen-year-old girl? Had they resented Lily’s presence in their lives? Their homes?

  That made no sense. Lily wasn’t living with them. The moms had been the ones who’d called her for babysitting duties. Although Lily did spend a considerable amount of time at the Thorpe’s place. Weekends with Carla. But Carla was the only one who had truly cooperated and didn’t freak out over the questions.

  Besides, the killer wasn’t a woman. She was sure of that. She needed to focus on the husbands, the men. What were they doing when Lily went missing? Did they have alibis for the other girls?

  She tossed and turned another forty-five minutes before finally getting up to check all the doors and windows. Just in case.

  Not wanting to wake up Josh, she silently pulled on a pair of sweatpants and one of his loose, long-sleeved tops. She stuffed her feet into a pair of softie sleepers and shuffled down the hallway to check on Sierra and the dogs.

  Thanks to the night light, she could see the entire bed. O
n one side next to the wall, Cody had snuggled in beside the sleeping child, while Atka and Bella had burrowed their way into the other side closest to the door. None of the pups bothered to lift their heads as Skye backed out and went into the living room.

  A fat slice of moonlight filtered in through the drapes, creating a shaft of light that fell across the hardwood floor.

  Grabbing a blanket from the closet, she tried to get comfortable on the hard-as-a-rock sleeper sofa that could fold out into a bed. But it was too much trouble to mess with now. Instead, she nestled into one end, unsettled enough that it didn’t matter anyway. Nothing seemed to be able to take her mind off the interviews. Something was missing. But she had no idea what.

  She had to remember solving a murder was like a puzzle, putting each piece together a little at a time. And every murder was different. Unless you were dealing with a serial killer, who tended to do the same things over and over again with the same type of victim.

  She gritted her teeth, refusing to lump these girls into the same pot. What had she told the team that they should take each disappearance and look at it with fresh eyes?

  A shadow fell across the picture window, the one with the view of the lake. For a brief second, Skye sat there frozen, unable to move. But once she did, she jumped up. Her feet hit the floor with a thud. In one swift motion, she drew back the curtains. On the other side of the glass, her eyes locked on a man’s face hidden by a ski mask.

  The minute the curtain had revealed his presence, the man took off down the sidewalk.

  Skye ran around to the back door and sprinted outside. Leaning over the railing, she caught a glimpse of the man as he hightailed it toward the lake. She jumped off the stoop and took off after him.

  It soon became clear that she was at a disadvantage. The man knew his way around the lake and the woods while she didn’t. Why hadn’t she bothered to study the map in the lobby? It was too late now as her legs pumped to catch up. She ran all out, her eyes darting from side to side, scanning the landscape. The lake loomed up ahead. She’d somehow lost the guy.

  She circled back to the cottage in case the asshole had backtracked and spotted Josh standing on the stoop. “Where the hell have you been? The back door was wide open.”

  Out of breath, she bent over at the waist and put her hands on her knees. “Visitor. Again. I chased him but lost him at the edge of the lake.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “There wasn’t time.” Skye was beginning to get the feeling Josh was pissed about something. “What’s up with you?”

  “I thought we agreed that this is a team. You run out of the house after a guy who's probably our man, and you want to know what’s up? What’s wrong?”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Yeah, you can. You’ve always been able to take care of yourself. I’m sure Sierra will grow up feeling she can take care of herself, too. I hope she’s as independent as you are.”

  “Okay, you’re mad at me, I get that. But don’t throw Sierra into the mix. I was trying to catch this bastard, thought I could catch up to him, but he’s in pretty good shape. I lost him down the stretch. When did you realize I’d gone?”

  “When Sierra and the dogs crawled into bed with me because they heard something outside. Sierra got scared.”

  “Oh. And I wasn’t around to comfort her, is that it?”

  “Don’t throw the gender card around, okay? I got her back to bed. Would you rather I wasn’t concerned at all? Would you rather I just come out here and say, ‘did you get him? Did ya?’ Like nothing ever happened, like it was no big deal. You’re upset that I was worried. Unbelievable. Typical Skye Cree.”

  “Then what do you want me to say?”

  “I just want you to acknowledge that you should’ve called out, that you should’ve let me know what was going on. And realize that taking off wasn’t the smartest move you’ve ever made.”

  Sixteen

  With only four hours of sleep under her belt, with Josh still giving her the cold shoulder, Skye needed a breakfast meeting to get everyone up to speed. Things were beginning to pop. She needed them to keep up the pressure and not take their foot off the gas. The only way that would happen was to keep interviewing people, keep turning over rocks, keep making people feel uncomfortable.

  After catching everyone up on the outcome from yesterday’s canvassing, Skye told them about last night. She kept her voice low and unfettered. “In case you missed the excitement, we had another unidentified male intruder who almost got caught. If I’d been a little faster…”

  “She took off after the guy,” Josh deadpanned from the other side of the room. His jaw tightening. His stomach still flipping with anger from the ordeal of waking up and finding out she’d gone after the guy. “That wasn’t a joke.”

  Skye heard gasps from Zoe and Judy. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Judy exchanged looks with Zoe before turning her eyes to Skye. “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure Josh thinks otherwise.”

  Harry looked puzzled. “Let me get this straight. You took off after a stranger who’s likely a serial killer on your own without waking up Josh or anyone else? Why? You’ve got a phone unless you lost it. You also have four able-bodied men at your disposal ready to step in at a moment’s notice to help give chase.”

  Josh filled his mug with hot coffee. “We already had a full-blown discussion about it that went nowhere. Hardheaded and stubborn is what she is, doesn’t realize we’re a team for a reason.”

  Reggie seemed just as baffled. “What if he’d lured you away from the house on purpose to whack you over the head and put you in his car? You’d be gone now, and no one would know where you went. We’d be looking for you instead of focusing on the killer.”

  “Good point,” Leo added. “Dumb thing to do, especially since you obviously shook somebody up yesterday canvassing Lily’s client list.”

  “Okay. I get it. I’m sorry. I thought I was doing a good thing, the right thing. What do you want from me?”

  Without flinging back an answer, Josh took his coffee and left out the front door, leaving an awkward silence hanging over the meeting.

  Emmadine and Zoe pitched in to help Skye prepare a platter of scrambled eggs and bacon. Over the meal, Skye gave Harry a new assignment. “I want to know where Mark Osborne and Gavin Jaynes work. I want to pay those two men a visit before they have time to avoid me or play telephone tag. After that, find out everything you can on a Victor Durbridge. I already know he’s a judge. But I want to know if he has any vices, any peculiar hang-ups or habits. Then, I want you to do a background check on every client Lily had on her list until you know what they were doing when they were back in high school. Everything. No stone unturned. I want background on Thorpe, Gatwick, Jaynes, Osborne, Fielding, Bradshaw, and a guy named Trace Merrick.”

  “That’s gonna take the better part of the day.”

  “You got plans I don’t know about?” Skye snapped.

  Harry rolled his eyes. “I guess not. The snit going around seems contagious. I hope nobody else catches it. We’re under enough pressure as it is.”

  “Just get me the background on all of them. Do your thing.” She turned to Leo. “We’ve always assumed that Sara Grayhawk was his first. What if Sara wasn’t, though? What if there’s another girl out there he killed when he was much younger? I want you to look for unidentified Jane Doe’s before our killer started on the series here that predates Sara Grayhawk. I need anyone or anything that pops up, doesn’t even have to be a red flag, any kind of flag. Dig deep. Let’s find out what the people on Lily’s list is hiding.”

  She looked at Judy and Reggie. “I want you guys to spend the day going back through every single police report line by line.”

  “We did that already,” Reggie grunted.

  “Then do it again,” Skye barked.

  Zoe glanced around the table before landing on Skye. “At the risk of getting my head snapped off, what do I do?”


  “Help Judy and Reggie with the police reports. Highlight any witness statements and compare them to other cases. If canvassing was done, then go through the notes again, looking for anything that stands out that might’ve been overlooked.”

  She let out a deep intake of breath. “Look, guys, I’m not expecting miracles. But I do need results. I know I’m asking a lot. But that’s why we’re here. Right? I found out last night this asshole is full of himself, arrogant to a fault. No reasonable person would show up like he did outside that bungalow unless he wanted to make a statement. I get the impression he doesn’t just walk wherever he goes, either. He swaggers. He’s convinced himself that he’s never getting caught. Hence, the reason he keeps showing up here at the lodge rubbing it in our faces. He wants us to know he’s not afraid of us. We need to change that. I want him afraid. Unsettled. Rattled. I want him to think we know more than we do.”

  “You’re a woman,” Josh stated from the doorway before rounding the counter to the coffee pot where he topped off his cup. “This guy’s not about to get bested by a female.”

  Leo chuckled. “He ain’t met this female.”

  “Oh, he’s met her,” Reggie cracked. “He just hasn’t tangled with her yet.”

  “It doesn’t matter if he’s met her,” Josh tossed back. “He has no respect for her. That’s the problem. This guy’s issues are with females, not just little girls, either. If he’s in a relationship, he’s likely the dominant partner, intimidating to the point of bullying his spouse, making her feel inferior, making her feel like she doesn’t do enough.”

  Skye nodded. “Kind of like Susan Jaynes.”

  “Yeah, kind of like that. I’m heading over to the office to grab the CCTV from earlier this morning.”

  Harry got to his feet and looked at Skye. “Permission to tag along, sir.”