His Garden of Bones

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His Garden of Bones Page 20

by Vickie McKeehan


  “Ah, shouldn’t you run that by Harry first?”

  “Already did. Harry says it’s not a problem. Now the tricky part is that Harry’s leaving the force at the end of the month so… After the first of the year, it’s not really up to him to grant that kind of exclusive access. But since we have to catch the guy first, I’ll deal with that slippery slope when it comes up. I’m willing to take my chances if we get Emmett onboard.”

  “You’re sneaky.”

  “I know.”

  “And motivated.”

  “Guilty.”

  “Why don’t we explore that slippery slope another way?”

  “You’re so bad. Did I mention it’s good to have you home from the hospital?”

  Chapter Twenty

  The next morning, still cozied up in bed, Skye looked over at Josh who had cracked open one sleepy eye toward her. He scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to sit up. “That was one short night.”

  “We went to bed late. You do realize we have a houseful of people who’ll be starving as soon as they get up.”

  “I say we make them scrounge for themselves.” With that statement, he flopped over on top of her, pinning her body to the mattress. “It occurred to me that I didn’t get my official ‘welcome home’ present last night.”

  Laughing, she tried to buck him off. “What is it with you and your welcome home euphemisms? What about your ribs and your head?”

  “My body’s already healing, just like it did after the transformation. Don’t worry, I’ll take it nice and easy,” Josh teased.

  “Okay, so what about our houseful of guests?”

  “Let them get their own action. So instead of you screaming out my name in wild abandon, you’ll need to muzzle your enthusiasm,” he said, running his tongue down her neck.

  “Wild abandon? Where do you get this stuff?”

  He shushed her next word with little nibbles, tugging at her lips.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this so soon after the hospital?”

  In answer, he pressed her further into the mattress, ran her hand down his body. “What does that feel like to you?”

  “It feels like you don’t give a hang about having a dozen houseguests.”

  “How’d you guess? I spent three days on my back without you. I intend to enjoy you to the fullest and recapture what I missed.”

  She linked her arms around his neck. “Then we’d better get busy before the entire house wakes up.”

  “Now that’s what I wanted to hear.”

  A short half hour later, Skye pushed her hair off her face and scooted out of bed. “So how do I pull off breakfast for ten exactly? Any ideas? Because I’m not sure we have enough of one food item to serve across the board let alone enough cereal or eggs to go around. We haven’t been to the market to buy a supply of groceries since this thing started.”

  “Make it a free-for-all, party atmosphere. Throw together a batch of whatever we have on hand. If there’s a box of Bisquick, we make pancakes. Take what’s left of a loaf of bread and whip up French toast. Use up the rest of the Life cereal and Cheerios in the pantry. Scramble eggs. Throw bacon in a skillet. Get creative.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll need all hands on deck reporting for galley duty.”

  Josh tossed back the covers. “Okay, I’ll go round up Travis for another pair of hands.”

  Later, while Josh broke eggs into a bowl to scramble and Travis threw strips of meat into a skillet, Skye manned a griddle bubbling with hotcakes on one end and French toast sizzling on the other.

  “Imagine finding milk still in date and bread that isn’t growing mold,” Skye noted with glee.

  “But we have to thank Lena for the bacon,” Travis pointed out. “She must’ve snuck that in with her pot roast last night.”

  “Lena’s good at sneaking things in that way,” Zoe piped up. “We stopped at the store last night after we got off the ferry, the little food store in town, and picked up a few things so we wouldn’t starve. Any chance of getting a cup of hot chocolate?”

  Skye pointed to the pantry. “You’ll find the mix in there. I’ll put the kettle on.”

  “Got it handled,” Travis said as he reached over, turned the burner on next to the pan he was tending.

  By the time the other guests began to drift down from upstairs, the kitchen smelled like a blend of cinnamon and bacon.

  Reggie sniffed the air and said, “I wish I lived here all the time, fresh island air out the back door and bacon frying in the pan. This could be home sweet home.”

  “What’s on the agenda today?” Leo asked, grabbing one of the plates set out on the counter. “I mean, are we storming the walls around Lake Union, hitting the streets, what?”

  “That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Josh said filling up a platter with fluffy eggs and shoving it toward the programmer. “We knock on doors around the area where the Stockman houseboat used to be. Don’t go near the crime scene, though. Make sure you don’t interfere with the investigation in any way. When asking questions, identify yourselves as working for the Artemis Foundation.”

  “We could sure use ID badges for this kind of event,” Winston proposed. “I could design one for us that we wear around the neck.”

  Skye picked up on the hacker’s eagerness. “Good idea. I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before now. Be sure to include the foundation’s logo on anything you design. When you come up with a draft, run it by me or Josh.” She turned from the stove to face everyone else. “The purpose of fanning out around Lake Union is to circulate the flyers Travis had printed up. It has all the info about what we think the delivery van looked like that tried to run down Josh. Ask if anyone’s seen it in the area before Sunday night. Show them pictures of Ashley and Kiki. Find out if anyone might’ve seen the guy dragging them into the houseboat.”

  “But wouldn’t the police have already covered that?” Lena wanted to know, stepping around the crowd as she made her way to the coffee pot.

  “Harry needs all the help he can get. Think of us as his support system. Josh already cleared this with him and I think it’s an excellent way of sweeping the neighborhood a second time. Some of the neighbors weren’t home the day the cops did the initial canvassing. If it works, we might adopt this plan moving forward into what we do and how we react after other disappearances.”

  “Is this the reason you guys have been training us on how to talk to and connect with families that have been through the worst possible scenario?” Winston wanted to know.

  “That’s part of it,” Josh answered. “Working at the foundation, we interact with the community in a variety of ways. One of those is the hope that when we talk to people we have the potential to get them to open up. Part of opening up is to jog their memories, get them talking about traumatic events from the past, sometimes days, sometimes years in the past. You all know Judy’s story.” Josh looked over at the woman in question and smiled. “Judy knows how difficult it is to go back in time, and relive events best forgotten. But she also knows how valuable cracking a memory is in helping solve a case. What we’re looking for around Lake Union is to locate witnesses. Today we pass around the sketch Ashley came up with, ask if anyone was in the neighborhood lately that stood out, ask about any unusual activity that attracted attention.”

  Winston nodded. “Then we’ll plaster the neighborhood with everything we’ve got.”

  Within hours, ten reliable foot soldiers from the Artemis Foundation converged on the neighborhood around Lake Union. Going door to door they canvassed one houseboat after the other. When that turned up nothing, they fanned out to the expensive homes that dotted the steep hillside above the lake.

  They chatted up anyone out on the docks, out washing a car, out for a jog, or anyone who looked as if they were willing to talk. But asking people to recall anything strange within the last week only resulted in the same rehash of the Sunday night explosion. And that from the ones who’d been outside. Most had been parked in f
ront of the television watching Sunday football during the dreary afternoon and heard nothing out of the ordinary. Some hadn’t even been home because they’d been out finishing up their Christmas shopping. Whatever the reason, the results of the sweep were disappointing.

  By five o’clock as darkness descended, the stalwart volunteers reluctantly gave up and headed back to their rides, wondering if their efforts had been in vain.

  Winston summed it up best. “I can’t help but wonder. Is he out there somewhere watching us now, hoping to find an opportunity to strike? I’m still not over him gutting the dog.”

  “We’re all bothered by the fact our killer is a butcher.” Downhearted, but still determined, Leo added, “Let’s hope we nab this son of a bitch before he finds another victim.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Their last mission of the day was to hit the streets. The sun had already gone down. Traffic had thinned out. As Josh and Skye patrolled their beat they enjoyed the stunning view of the downtown Seattle skyline. It was a perfect evening except for one thing.

  Kiya had been a no-show.

  Roaming back alleyways and over concrete viaducts that night, the wolf’s absence was worrisome to both, but it was hardly the first time. Kiya would appear when they needed her. They had to believe that.

  While they weaved through landscaped greenbelts, the subject matter turned to Josh’s probe into the Pridewin Star.

  “You’re talking about the bones of children,” Skye said in horror. “You’re saying this steamship went down, this Pridewin Star, more than a century ago and carried children slated for cheap labor in the mining camps?”

  “It was a different time back then. Poor families often relied on their kids to bring in extra income by sending them away to work wherever they could get a job, boys especially. Many were children of immigrants and not missed. Bayliss believes these bones belong to males between the ages of six and thirteen. He’s confirmed a few sets already.”

  “The age certainly fits your theory. But it’s sad to think that even if the boat hadn’t gone down those kids were headed for a life of unimaginable hardship. We should find a way to honor them in some way.”

  “Like the commemorative plaque that marks the spot where the Dix went down? Good idea. But Bayliss still has some convincing to do with skeptics in the area. Some people don’t want to be reminded about using kids as cheap labor. That’s one reason he called in a forensic archaeologist from California State at Chico to verify the age of the bones.”

  “I’m in the Bayliss camp. That man’s like a terrier with a pork chop. He won’t let go of a theory until he’s down for the count. By the way, have you heard from Hank or Melina? We’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to check on them.”

  “Want to swing by and say hi?”

  “I’m sure this time of night the baby’s fast asleep.”

  “So that’s the only reason you’d want to stop by? To see the baby?”

  “You know me too well. That little boy is so cute. I could easily think up a reason to drop in every other day, but I don’t want to be viewed as a pesky landlord.”

  Josh found that funny before turning serious. “We could adopt one of our own. Although sometimes I wonder just who in their right mind would bring a baby into the mix we call our lives.”

  Skye stopped walking. “You mean because mommy and daddy would go out every night to face down bad men? Need I point out to you that there are lots of mommies and daddies who are in the same boat? They’re called members of law enforcement, otherwise known as cops. They often go out and encounter the criminal element every day.”

  Hope rocketed up inside him. “So you’re saying we need to think of this as routine, a normal occurrence that couples face who have dangerous jobs? That we could work out the logistics of such a daily event if we went the adoption route?”

  “That’s a wordy way of saying it, but yeah. We could find a way if we really wanted to do it.”

  Josh steered her around a homeless man asleep at the entrance to the alleyway. At least he hoped the man was still breathing. It was hard to tell. “You can’t even say it,” Josh pointed out.

  “Say what?”

  “Become parents. We could find a way to become parents.”

  She huffed out a deep breath, making a mini fog form in the chilly night air. “I guess the prospect of becoming parents is daunting. I could easily panic about the idea if I thought about it long enough.”

  To lighten up the mood, she added, “But that’s silly when what I need to be concerned about right this minute is having eighty people over to our house on Christmas Eve. You do realize I need a party planner in the worst way. Where will I get one at the last minute? Someone with a flair for red and green.”

  “That’s it.” He grabbed her close. “We’ll hire one. We’ll do a theme. Everything in red and green colors including what the guests wear.”

  “Like a costume party for Christmas?”

  “Yep. We’ll see how creative our family and friends get when they have to dress in costumes. We’ll make it mandatory at the door. Anyone wanting to get in has to have on some outrageous getup with the required color combo. Anyone not wearing red or green pays a tribute at the door to the charity of their choice.”

  “Like an entry fee. I like it. There’s just one small problem. I don’t see Travis coming as an elf.” She tossed out a quiet laugh at the idea of her father in green pants and a red shirt, more in relief that they’d moved on beyond the adoption topic. “Hmm, we’ll need to recruit a Santa Claus. You know who’d make a good one? Reggie Bechtol.”

  “Reggie? Because he’s a tad on the pudgy side?”

  “No, of course not. It’s his personality. Did you know he offered to play Santa for Alec Fielding? Reggie found out the family was having a rough time of it and took up a collection among the programmers to buy them a Christmas tree. The guy has such a good heart.”

  “Okay, I’ll ask him. Speaking of a tree, we need to get one.”

  “It’ll have to go on the list. We’re running out of time.”

  Josh knew they were no longer speaking about the Christmas season. “Then we need to up our game.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Inside the little kitchenette at the Artemis Foundation, Josh noticed Skye standing near the window deep in concentration. He knew that look, that formidable determined set to her jawline and knew it wasn’t good news. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just got off the phone with a woman named Polly Claypool in Corvallis, Oregon. Polly’s name appears on our list as next of kin for Lindsey Claypool. Lindsey went missing four years ago this coming March fourteenth. She hasn’t been seen since.” Skye shifted to meet Josh’s eyes. “After a lengthy discussion with the mother I think the Pine Street Jane Doe might be Lindsey.”

  Josh rubbed the back of his neck. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because Polly gave me a detailed description of her sixteen-year-old daughter. It fits the police report here in Seattle right down to the shoe size and hair coloring. Polly said Lindsey was a high school sophomore who went missing after a basketball game. According to her mother, the junior varsity cheerleader was a member of the National Honor Society and active in drama club.”

  “You should contact Harry with your suspicions. If Lindsey went missing four years ago that means it took two years for her body to surface here in town. Where was she all that time?”

  “These murders have all the signs of sex trafficking, the victims discarded after fulfilling their purpose. Look, I think we need to go out again tonight.”

  “Then we will.”

  “No squabble about the timing? We were planning on picking out the tree.”

  “Nope, no argument from me. No doubt our guy’s on the prowl because I’m picking up on some of his negative energy. It’s like a black hole that keeps getting bigger. It won’t go away unless we stop him.”

  “We’re on the same page then. It’s building up and I’m not sure
how we stop it, him.” She glanced back at Josh before staring out the third-story window again at the towering skyline. “The thing that gets me is how this guy keeps these girls for so long? Where does he contain them? He has to be a sex trafficker who moves them through his system and then takes them back.” She contemplated that before answering her own question. “The only explanation I can come up with is that in doing business, this guy exchanges them or trades them up for another or a better product.”

  “That’s disgusting. Maybe that’s why I’ve sensed his urges growing stronger lately, ever since he left the scarf and the stuffed animal hanging from the tree. There’s no question in my mind that what happened Wednesday was a ramp up.”

  From the doorway Emmett sauntered over to the coffeemaker, made himself at home by taking a mug and pouring himself a cup of coffee. “That’s because his main personality is likely losing out to the one who wants to take over.”

  “Split personality disorder is a difficult concept to wrap my mind around. It’s so bizarre,” Skye muttered under her breath.

  “You have a nice setup here,” Emmett went on.

  “Thanks,” Skye said. “This place is all Josh’s doing.”

  Emmett smiled a little and continued, “Together you guys make an impressive team. You’ve even managed to pull together a roomful of volunteers who take the work very seriously. That’s not an easy task to pull off.”

  “And now we have you onboard as well,” Skye tossed out with a wicked grin. “What exactly can you tell us about this sadistic asshole and these ‘so-called’ personalities of his?”

  “What he’s likely experiencing, the experts refer to as ‘commando’ hallucinations. It’s where the person hears voices telling him when and how to act and giving him a window. I’d say Josh is right. At this point the unknown subject’s veneer is beginning to crack. There’s always one personality stronger than all the rest anyway. And it’s usually not the one he grew up with. The pressure of knowing he failed with the Kendrow kidnapping is weighing on him. He feels badly in need of a victory.”

 

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