"Yes." And that's what she had wanted. What the protocol for this sort of situation was in Seattle, she didn't know. A case by case basis, she'd assume. "You didn't have to ask."
"You're not heading off for distant parts right way, are you?"
Not anymore. But he didn't know about her brother's death and the other changes in her life. "No. I will be home; I'm trying to figure out my own career at the moment."
"Good. I'll get back to you."
A warm smile bloomed inside her at his reassurance. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Help me to catch this asshole. He's ruined everyone's lives for long enough. It's time we ruined his."
***
Chad hopped into his truck and prepped for the long trip back. He was hungry and tired, yet excitement...eagerness had lit a fire in the old muscles and kept his brain moving. The techs weren't done yet and probably wouldn't be for another few hours. Before heading back to town, he wanted to drive around and take pictures; catch the lie of the land. He'd already downloaded maps of the region on his GPS, but wanted to see for himself what cabins were here and how far away they were from each other.
He'd come here time and time again, looking for Cia, searching for any evidence that could shed light on her disappearance. It was an obsession at first, then a hobby. Over the years, the trips had gotten further apart. He hadn't been here for five years. But that didn't stop him from downloading the latest images of the area every time Google Earth updated them. He had topographical maps, aerial maps and satellite photos. His original folder had become a zippered briefcase heavy with data.
He'd done some research on the owners of the cabins seventeen years ago, and then when he'd been able to access the databases once he was in law enforcement, he'd gone deeper.
But he had found nothing useful.
He knew it was too early to confirm the remains as Cia's but, there were good grounds for assuming they were. He'd spent an hour taking pictures, and marking off on a grid where the tents had been set up. Definitely, they were within walking distance, but not the carrying a person type of walking distance. Not unless that person was in awesome shape and bloody strong. It was another reason to let Meg off the hook. Back then, she'd been called gangly. She'd grown into her height and filled out some today. She could probably have lifted Cia – tiny, doll-like Cia. But Chad doubted that she'd have been able to carry her far.
No, this had all the markings of a male aggressor. He winced. He knew all too well what often happened to women in those situations. He could only hope that Cia's end had been mercifully swift.
He'd noticed Meg's enforced calm as she'd gone through the process of collecting the remains. It had been that strong silence that had him watching her carefully. This was difficult for her. For him, too. But she'd maintained a professional demeanor the whole time. Until she'd found the hyoid bone and, then, her necklace.
Chances were good that Cia had been strangled to death, given the current evidence. And that was a downright personal way to kill someone. Was it someone who'd known her? It was that question that kept bringing him back to the group of friends who'd gone camping so long ago.
Sure, she could have wandered off on her own.
But she hadn't strangled herself.
***
The cabin was largely silent as Meg entered. Waves of disapproval emanated from Pete. Geesh, what a surprise. Not. Janelle was sitting up on the old couch and yawning. "Meg?"
"Yes, honey, I'm here."
Janelle gave her a tired smile. "Good. I wondered how much longer you were going to be."
Meg laughed lightly. "And imagine my surprise when I came back to find you both out enjoying the sun, fishing on the lake."
Janelle brightened. "You were home before us then? I wanted to wait for you, but Pete said no, that we couldn't spend out whole lives waiting on you to walk away from work."
Her childlike delivery did nothing to impact the overtone in Pete's words. The message was so typical of Pete. She refused to glance over at him. She dropped a kiss on the top of Janelle's head. "I'm glad you went fishing. Was it fun?"
Janelle shook her head. "There were no fish," she complained. "And it was hot. I got really tired."
"And you had a nap, all of which is good." Meg straightened up. "I guess that means I need to find something for dinner, seeing as how you guys didn't catch anything, huh?"
Janelle grinned. "I want grilled cheese."
"Really, we're out here camping and you want a grilled cheese?" It had to be Janelle's favorite meal. And it was so not high on the healthy food list. Then sometimes one needed to toss the list in the garbage. And this weekend, the list probably should be burned.
"Pete, what about you?"
"We brought hamburgers. We can't keep raw meat past today so it's hamburgers, regardless of what anyone wants." On that categorical note, he walked over to the cooler and pulled out the sealed and dripping bag from the ice. He slapped it on the counter and proceeded to make patties.
There was an awkward silence. Meg glanced over at Janelle, who was biting her lip nervously. Meg wanted to run away and hide. When did a person hit overload and it all became too much?
She didn't dare hit that point. Janelle needed her. And Meg didn't think she'd ever been needed before. Her parents were almost past child rearing age when she'd been born and while they had done their duty by her, their relationship had been an independent one. It still was. Meg called them on special occasions, but they'd moved to a warmer, dryer climate a long time ago. And now their cool relationship had chilled even further. She'd just always assumed it would improve, but it hadn't.
With a reassuring smile, she turned to help Pete get out the rest of the fixings for the burgers. Pete walked outside to light the barbeque. She watched him with sadness in her heart.
"Meg?" Janelle came up beside her to stare out the window at Pete. "Why do you stay with him?"
Her breath caught in her throat. She tried to smile, but failed. Still to her, honesty was the best policy, so she answered Janelle's question, "We're just going through a bad patch right now."
"Really?" Janelle picked at a piece of lettuce. "I don't remember ever seeing a 'good' patch."
Meg looked at her sideways. "This last month has been tough for all of us."
"You weren't happy before dad died either. He always wondered why you felt you had to settle for this, when you could have found someone to love instead."
"He didn't say that to you, did he?"
"Not to me, but to Grandma on the phone. I overheard him."
That hurt. It was also all too possible. Darren had been closer to her parents. Then he'd been a lot older. Did they really believe she didn't love Pete? Surely not. Pete and she had been together a long time. They had gone through a lot to get here. He loved her, even if he didn't show it. And she loved him. But lots of relationships went through a cooling off period.
She didn't want to think it was any more than that. But Janelle wasn't ready to let it go.
"You guys don't hug. He never kisses you. You don't hold hands. I thought people in love did all that."
People in love? Were they that different from people who loved each other? Meg was stumped for an answer. She tried a different tactic. "Some people are more demonstrative. Other couples are happy to touch less." She shrugged. "I guess Pete and I are in second group."
There was a long silence. Meg looked up from the tomato she was cutting, "What?"
"You always hug and kiss me."
So true, but she didn't want to make the obvious connection. She knew there were problems with her relationship but she didn't want them pointed out by anyone, much less by her too observant niece.
Thankfully, Pete came in then to say the burgers were ready.
Dinner was a quiet affair. Janelle could barely eat; her eyes drooped with fatigue. Meg eyed her carefully. The fresh air would have made her tired, but it should also have made her hungry. She didn't eat enough as it was now.
<
br /> But then Meg was having trouble getting her own burger down. Finally, she managed to finish it. She cleaned up the dishes quickly and suggested a walk, but the others declined. Janelle grabbed a book and went to her bed. Meg suspected few pages would get turned before she crashed for the night. Maybe sleeping the weekend away was a good thing to do at this time. Then again, it was hard to know what was best.
Pete headed back outside to clean up and pack up the barbeque. Meg took a seat on the verandah as she waited for the kettle to boil for tea.
"So, are we leaving in the morning?" He stood hands on his hips, glaring at her.
She glanced over at him in surprise. "Why? I thought the plan was to leave in the afternoon."
"We were until you found another excuse to work. Don't you have to go and deal with the remains?" The cool tone of his voice spoke of suppressed curiosity.
"Not necessarily." She relaxed back into her chair. "There are other qualified people back in Seattle. They just couldn't get someone to come out here today."
"And why did it have to be today? Surely tomorrow would have been soon enough. You found the body yesterday."
She sighed. "True. Having reported it, the media were likely to hear and then any number of strangers could come traipsing through the area. That's the worst thing to have at a crime scene." She pointed at the cloudy sky. "Also, the weather is set to change. No one wants to lose the evidence."
"Crime scene? Evidence?" His voice rose sharply. "How do you know a crime has been committed?"
"We don't." She tried to reassure him. "It's just that we treat each scene as if it were and hope the evidence proves it wasn't. This person could have died a natural death." She didn't of course, but it wasn't Meg's place to say so.
"Could you tell the sex?"
"Of course, the remains are those of a young woman."
The silence was oppressive.
He gave a harsh bark. "She hardly died of natural causes then, did she?" He got up and walked to the far end of the verandah. "Odds are she was murdered. But then you already knew that, didn't you"
She closed her eyes. Her professional and personal lives were once again butting up against each other. Since when had it started doing this? It never used to be an issue. And since Janelle's arrival in their home, he knew she wouldn't ever be leaving again. So why was there the continual discord?
"What, no answer? You, whom the experts call on for answers, have nothing to say now?"
Inside, her stomach sank. He was in a rare mood. And she didn't need any more emotional storms right now. But almost as if he realized he could push even harder and take a bigger cut out of her heart, he pushed deeper. "Oh right. It's confidential. You can't tell me."
"Yes," she murmured quietly, "It's a police matter now. But that's not the point. I only collected the remains. Tests have to be done in order to determine the cause of death."
"Bullshit," he roared. "You'd know. Within minutes of seeing her body, you'd have known if Mother Nature had taken her, or she'd died by her own hand or someone else's hands."
"Lots of times, yes, I know but sometimes, I truly do not know. There are no one-answer-fits-all scenarios here."
He snorted, disgust and old anger filling his dark features.
Meg watched him warily. She wasn't comfortable with this man she lived with anymore. Where was the man she fell in love with? Or even a year ago? That man was calm, funny, accepting. This one seemed to do nothing but pick away at small things in bitterness and anger.
Without warning, his fist lashed out and slammed into the railing post. She winced as blood flew from his ripped knuckles. She jumped to her feet and started toward him, but he turned and held out his other hand. "Don't come any closer. This is your fault."
She gasped. "My fault? That you were an idiot and punched the wood?"
Oh shit. At the word idiot, he locked down and became shadowed, as if icing up. His gaze turned almost black. "I. Am. Not. An. Idiot."
"I didn't mean it that way," she said hastily backing down. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I guess we're all touchy right now."
He stared at her, with no give in his face.
She didn't know how to cross the impasse dividing them. He was so touchy right now, anything could set him off.
And that she didn't need. She'd seen more than her share of what happened to women when they came too close to a man's wrath.
She turned and quietly walked back inside; closing the screen door softly behind her, she left him alone to his righteous anger. She paused at the doorway and looked back at him, searching the growing darkness, hoping to see some softening. When there was none, she realized they'd crossed yet another invisible line.
One she wasn't sure could ever be crossed back over again.
***
He stared down at his cell phone. Jacob, the owner of the cafe had called. Said there were a mess of cops at the lake. And an old set of remains had been found.
Interesting…
He smiled, a cold smile of anticipation.
Wait until Stephanie heard. She might have tried to change herself, but some characteristics were too ingrained for that.
Not that the location was a guarantee of finding what they were all hoping for. It might reveal Cia's remains. Then, it might not.
Now that everyone, most likely everyone anyway, knew – what would they do next?
Chad and Mags would race around and try and solve the case. Of course, they were two do-gooders with brains and vengeance on their minds.
Stephanie would huddle and quake and shake and hope that Cia had died of natural causes. But she knew inside that this wouldn't be the case. Had she ever voiced the reason for her own breakdown? Did she even know it? Or was that inner fear, that inner knowing, what had destroyed her all these years?
She was so weak. She loved all the excesses and they loved her. Her emotional state had been evidenced years ago. Unlike him, for he'd planned that weekend. Not that events turned out the way he'd intended.
So many people in this world let life just happen. Randomly. These people were the victims of circumstances, the pawns of the world. Others, those like him, were the chess players, moving things around cunningly to suit their own needs. They planned ahead and took care of what needed to happen, in order to achieve their own ends.
They were the rulers of this stupid world of peons.
People like Mags and Chad were the enforcers of this said world. And that was such a joke. They might have turned into enforcers. Back then though, they were just victims, the victims of his actions.
People like Stephanie were the garbage in the street. He could have taken care of her a long time ago. But enforcers needed someone to enforce. The Stephanies of the world were perfect. They needed people. And people need to be needed.
Just think of Stephanie's life and how many people had been needed over the years to keep her alive and functioning. There were all the cops that had arrested her for drugs, prostitution and petty theft, if that's what 'shoplifting' was called in the books. Then there were the counsellors, the ministers – how many different religions had she joined trying to save herself? And the doctors, nurses, emergency workers helping to save her life after overdosing, or taking a bad hit of drugs.
And that was only in the first few years...
He shook his head. These people needed Stephanie. People like her gave them all a sense of purpose. Stephanie, in fact, gave them a reason to go to work each day and to earn a paycheck.
And as for Stephanie herself, she should feel good about herself. Look at all the busyness she was creating. Instead of being depressed, she should be cheering. Of course, being depressed was good for business too. It meant more rounds of doctors, therapists, and drugs, prescription ones this time. So easy to get hooked on those, wasn't it?
Now, with a new set of remains to fuss over, he'd bet she was a real basket case.
He smirked.
He hoped they all were.
CHAPTE
R 7
Meg walked into the living room. It was still early, but the sun had gone down, adding to the darkness caused by the overgrowth of trees. She was tired from her restless night and emotional day, but she knew sleep couldn't be further away. She curled up in the one single chair in the living room and stared out over the water. She couldn't stop thinking about the necklace and that last day so long ago. And the conversation that went on over and over again in her head.
Did Cia tell you? She's slept with four of the guys here and she is planning on doing the next one this weekend. The last one of the group she turned down. You know how she likes to do the chasing.
"No way." Meg listened to Stephanie's litany of complaints against Cia. Her mind was buzzing as she tried to figure out who Cia had slept with. Chad, for sure. After all, they'd gone out for months, although, that had been a while ago, so...
"Who else has she slept with?"
"Ha, you don't know, do you?" Stephanie laughed and laughed. "What is Chad like in bed? I've often thought about it. He's really cute."
Meg grinned, "Chad and sex are like chocolate and peanut butter – they naturally go great together.
"That's what I figured." Stephanie giggled. "And Cia said something similar."
"She did?" Meg turned to her friend, outraged. She looked back to the shore where Cia sat on the beach looking like the perfect model she was. All that perfect creamy skin was getting sun-kissed. She wouldn't burn. Instead, lucky Cia would end with a lovely golden glow. Everything she touched was perfect.
Mags, tall, with long wavy hair, would never look perfect. "So who is she planning to seduce this weekend? And does Josh know?"
"Oh, I doubt it." Stephanie giggled. "He'd kill her if he did."
Such prophetic words.
Even after seventeen years, Meg had remembered them. She'd known Josh well back then. She'd gone out with him for a couple of months herself but she hadn't gone to bed with him.
It hadn't felt right. She hadn't had the same instant need she'd had with Chad.
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