Skye Cree Boxed Set Books 1 - 3

by Vickie McKeehan

  He picked up her hand, kissed the palm. “And that’s one of the reasons I love you. You’re always thinking how to help, how to fix a problem, especially when it concerns kids, those most vulnerable who usually can’t help themselves.”

  “Come on, you make me sound…”

  “Beautiful?”

  “I was gonna say corny.”

  “You’re a lot of things but never that.”

  They rounded a bend in the path and spotted the apartment complex, a high-rise overlooking the waterway. Skye noted the wolf turn her regal head to look upward. “Kiya’s better than a police tracking dog at this job. That’s Alpine Court. Twenty-five stories. Five-hundred units. Wanna take bets which floor the bastard lives on?”

  Josh whistled as he lifted his head skyward to check out the tower. Some units had windows blazing with light. Others had already gone dark for the night. “That’s a lot of condos. How do we get in? This late hour not too many people will be coming and going.”

  “What’s the first thing you do after you’ve just murdered someone?”

  He sent her a wide grin. “Get rid of the body. But we can fast-forward past that step. I see where you’re going with this. When you get back from dumping the body, you’re compelled to clean up the crime scene.”

  “Exactly. There’s no need to lurk in the lobby. We head around back, wait for him to take out the trash or something or stake out the underground parking lot where he’s sure to use his car to dump stuff somewhere else.”

  “You don’t think he’d be that stupid, do you?”

  “He killed someone in this very building and then left a note for us to find the body. I’d say he’s beyond stupid.”

  “Okay, so he’s dumber than a box of rocks. I’m not sure which I hate more, the fact that he’s trying to use us, or that we’re getting used by such a dumbass.”

  “I say we go around back to where the waste receptacles are kept. We stake them out. He’s bound to toss stuff if he hasn’t already.”

  They headed around the corner of the building just as someone threw back the lid on a tan, nondescript-looking Dumpster. The cover flew back and clanged into the wall with a thud. A man stood in front of it, tossing out a section of blood-soaked carpeting.

  “Whatcha got there?” Josh asked from three feet away. In the dim light, he saw the man’s face go white at getting caught. There was a brief moment when Josh thought the guy might take off in a run. But the culprit turned, bold as brass, to stare into his eyes.

  Josh caught the hint of madness mingled with a good dose of desperation.

  “Who the hell are you? Get out of here. This is private property and none of your damn business.”

  “Murder’s everyone’s business,” Josh said evenly, eyeing the murderer, then the garbage bin. He got a whiff of blood first, right before he smelled bleach. The mixture, a sickening combo indicating the killer had tried to use the strongest chemical on hand to get the stain out of the carpet. When that hadn’t done the job, the guy had simply removed a sizeable chunk of rug from the floor.

  As Josh took in the scene he wondered. Could this be the serial killer who had escaped capture for two decades and wanted to get caught now?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man insisted.

  Josh stared at the guy’s bloody shirt and the dark stains on his jeans. “Sure you do. You dumped the woman, left her there beaten and battered, left her with no ID in that alleyway.”

  “Then you decided to write a note sending us to Brawley and Edgewater to find the body. Which we did,” Skye added.

  The man’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Nervous, from the waistband of his dirty jeans, he pulled a revolver, waved it first at Skye then aimed it at Josh. “You get back now. Just stay back both of you. I told you this doesn’t concern nosy neighbors.”

  Josh assessed the man, decided an unpredictable cornered rat could bite if the teeth were sharp enough. This guy’s teeth were primed. It wasn’t in their favor to try reasoning with him. Rattling him seemed the best way to go.

  “Who was she?” Josh demanded. “Your wife? A girlfriend?”

  Skye exchanged furtive glances with Josh. An unspoken dynamic ignited a plan of action. All it took was the nod of heads for Skye to take a step to the side. She faked to the left, distracting the killer long enough for his head to turn at the movement. Josh took the opening and barreled into him with a fist, knocking the man backward, dislodging the weapon. The gun skidded on the wet pavement.

  Skye went over, picked it up while Josh kept the guy in a firm chokehold.

  “I’m texting Harry. It’s up to him to find out who this jerk is with a search warrant in hand.” She took out her phone, keyed in: Address is 8515 Alpine Court. We’re in the back of the complex. Get here soon before Josh breaks him into little pieces and there’s nothing left to lock up.

  Chapter 15 Book 3

  Twenty-four-hours later Harry stopped by the Foundation. “I don’t know how you two do it but you were spot on. I used the carpeting you found in the Dumpster to get a warrant for the owner of that unit.”

  “No doubt that took some fancy talking.”

  Harry grinned. “I told them the beat cop followed a blood trail, didn’t bring you guys into it at all.”

  “Whatever it takes. Who is this guy?”

  “His name’s Benjamin Zaharia. With the warrant we went through the security tapes at the building for the night of the murder. It shows he wrapped the body up in a comforter, carried it out using the service elevator and put it in the trunk of his BMW.”

  “Was she his wife? Girlfriend?”

  “Diana Weatherly, Zaharia’s girlfriend for about two years. I had forensics go over the entire apartment from floor to ceiling. We found blood drops on the remaining carpet he didn’t remove. We also found sizeable spatter in the bathroom that he hadn’t had time to clean up. That was the murder scene. He lost his temper one time too often, got mad, bashed Diana’s head in while she was getting ready for bed.”

  “He hit her from behind?” Josh asked.”

  Harry nodded. “Standing at the sink. He hit her with one of his golf clubs.”

  “Geez, why?”

  “Because Diana defied him one time too often. His words, not mine. He’s sitting in jail where he’ll be staying because the judge denied him bail.”

  “Zaharia doesn’t have anything to do with our serial, does he?” Skye said, wanting to make certain of what her gut already knew.

  “You got it. This is a case of domestic violence gone bad in every way possible. Turns out, the asshole has a history of abuse a mile long. The cops on the beat were well aware of the girlfriend’s list of complaints against Zaharia over the years. Why she didn’t just pack up and get out of there—?”

  “No one understands the syndrome.”

  “I guess not. Anyway, I spent six hours interviewing Zaharia where he confessed to killing Diana. When I grilled him I pushed quite a bit about the other murders. He told me how he got the idea to blame Diana’s death on the serial killer in the news. He thought the plan was brilliant and decided he could fake us all out by sending the note to Skye Cree. He used the Internet to look you guys up, found your address, and the rest is…” Harry let his voice trail off, shrugged. “The bastard decided if you guys found the body the discovery would play into one more victim. We’d link Diana to the serial and Zaharia would get to play the grieving boyfriend and go on with his life. I guess that was his undoing.”

  “No, his undoing was not breaking up with his girlfriend like normal people do but grabbing that golf club to make his point.”

  Less than a week later the authorities found Willa Dover’s body thanks to an anonymous tip. Her remains rested on a gentle slope in Discovery Park near the south meadow bordered by straw-colored nut grass and golden buttercups. The wildlife had gotten to the body. It was so decomposed the coroner’s office couldn’t immediately tell how she’d died. Putting a nam
e to the deceased had to be done through dental records.

  Because the killer had picked Skye as his contact initially, Harry had invited both her and Josh to sit in on a newly formed task force. Inside a conference room on the third floor of the Cherry Street police station, they listened to various reps from law enforcement—sheriff’s deputies from King, Pierce, Snohomish, and Whatcom counties—go through case files and procedures.

  “The vehicle description is a huge break. How did we obtain that?”

  Harry shot Josh a look that clearly said, “Do not bring up any paranormal crap.” The detective answered the question with his usual unruffled demeanor. “A witness reported Andrea Harkness jumped into a Jeep. And we have the surveillance video from the bank. It might be grainy but it’s an obvious side view of an older model Cherokee, which we think means they’re connected.”

  “You think he’d actually keep the same car for two decades?”

  “Some people use older models if they intend to put a lot of miles on a car, using it like their own workhorse. My uncle has a Toyota 4Runner he’s had since 1985.”

  The chatter continued like that as members of law enforcement debated the plausibility of such a thing until Harry directed the focus back on Willa Dover. “No doubt Willa’s killer intended for the body to be found much sooner.”

  For the first time since she’d sat down, Skye waded into the discussion. “But it rained buckets for the past seven days which made for less foot traffic on the nearby hiking trail fifteen yards from where she was found.”

  “When no one came along, he took the initiative,” Josh added. “He made the anonymous call so everyone would know he’s in charge.”

  “I’m sure Skye will get another gruesome package with a taunting message pointing out how sloppy we all are,” Harry advised.

  “I read your initial report from the handout you gave us. You think there’s a connection to Joint Base Lewis-McChord. Do you think it’s significant that the killer dumped the Dover woman near historic Fort Lawton housing?”

  “Good question. But the area hasn’t been used for military in years. I think he was simply looking for the maximum effect.”

  “Or it might be symbolic,” Josh tossed out.

  Skye bobbed her head in agreement. “What I’d like to know is how he got her there.” She stood up, went to the map Harry had attached to an easel. “Not only has it been muddy for the past week, but according to the crime scene techs, there were no obvious tire tracks or footprints left around anywhere.”

  “The rain washed everything of value away.”

  “I understand that. But the trail was too narrow there for a vehicle anyway. He had to carry her a good fifty yards before picking that spot.”

  “Unless he brought her there by boat,” Josh assessed, letting that settle into their heads before he added, “The body was closer to the shore than to the road on the other side of the park near the Sound. Between the sewage treatment plant, hidden by the marsh and the lighthouse on the westernmost point, you’re dealing with more than five hundred acres of land.”

  Skye nodded again. “That actually makes sense. He chose that spot for a reason. He wanted her on display where he could get the biggest charge out of someone finding her.”

  Because the others in the group thought so too, the assembly took it through various scenarios.

  “Maybe he watched from a vantage point.”

  “There’s a thought. Check out all the places where he could have staked out the area from higher ground.”

  “He knew the area…well.”

  “Well enough to have no fear of getting caught.”

  “What about the time of death? Does Bayliss have any idea how long Willa was out in the elements?”

  Harry shook his head. “Not yet. We’re hoping he can narrow it down.”

  After the meeting ended, a few detectives approached Skye and Josh in the hallway. A group from law enforcement that hadn’t exactly welcomed them with open arms in the first place encircled them. It made them understandably leery of any attempt at camaraderie or small talk.

  “I wasn’t sure about letting civilians near the task force, let alone have access to crime scene photos,” one of them admitted. “But I have to say I’m impressed. Coming up with that boat theory showed you could be an asset to the team.”

  The other deputy turned to Skye. “And you’ve saved countless abduction victims. And you caught Frank DePalo, beat the holy crap out of the sadistic bastard, as I recall. Your input should also be invaluable to us.”

  A third stuck out his hand and added, “Good to work with you. At least you two aren’t claiming you’re psychics. We tried that shit some years back with Ridgway, found out real quick they couldn’t see their own asses through a hole in a doughnut.”

  “Yeah, name me one crime that’s ever been solved by a psychic?” the fourth man demanded. “Now if those shysters could ever come up with the numbers for me to win the Mega Millions jackpot, then I might become a believer.”

  There were laughs all around as the cops continued to make fun of using psychics or mediums.

  “We take any tips the public offers. That doesn’t change no matter where the tip comes from. That includes anything called in by a bunch of kooks,” one of them added. “We treat every lead the same way. We process the information and run it down until we hit a dead end.”

  “Old-fashioned police work is what solves crimes.”

  While Skye and Josh didn’t disagree with that, they had no intentions of ignoring a second sense. If a supernatural element could be utilized to get scum off the street, they’d keep with what they did best.

  As they headed back to the car, Skye turned to Josh. “Was that conjecture about the boat, or something else?”

  “When you called me that they’d found her body, I went out to the park. I watched the cops and the crime scene techs mill around acting as if they didn’t care. Sure they were doing their jobs, but I knew Willa, had seen her lift trays at the restaurant, carry food to my table. The woman took my order not four days before she disappeared.”

  “You were upset. It’s understandable.”

  “Seeing them all stand around or wander about, seemingly without a care, got to me. That was my first reaction. My second was this. How the hell did he get Willa to that spot? The closest road is back the other way near the parking lot, a good half mile. If he wanted her found quick, then why didn’t he simply dump her there near the main entrance? The only thing that made sense was he motored there with her in the boat.”

  Skye dipped her head in agreement, able to see it play out in her head. “So he comes in from the west. We had a storm churning then. The water had to be choppy as hell. In the pouring rain, he trudged up that hillside carrying Willa’s body.”

  “Or dragged it out of the boat and up to that ridge. Any drag marks, footprints, or indications of either, were lost to the lousy weather conditions.”

  “Did you get anything studying the pictures of the crime scene?”

  “Other than outrage, disgust and the fact I’m fed up with this guy? Sure.”

  “You held something back.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yeah. I think he had help getting Willa’s body into the park.”

  That bombshell evaporated any hope of shifting from murder to downtime before they had to go back out again. Relaxation took a backseat. For four hours they batted around the two-killer angle till they reached the same conclusion. If the guy did have someone willing to help him dispose of a body, it had to be someone he trusted, someone in his closest circle, someone he could depend on who knew his darkest secrets—someone he trusted with his own life.

  Chapter 16 Book 3

  It wasn’t until that night that Harry stopped by the loft to share more detailed information face-to-face.

  “Bayliss found a drug called rocuronium during Willa’s autopsy. He says there is absolutely no need for anyone to have rocuronium show up, let alone the amount that was ther
e. The drug is used primarily for general anesthesia, used to induce muscle relaxation for endotracheal intubation, or mechanical ventilation. It paralyzes the lungs. You suffocate to death. You’re able to see what’s going on around you, but can’t move or breathe on your own.”

  “Poor Willa.”

  “Yeah. She didn’t go easy. There were marks around her wrists and ankles, rope burns around her throat indicating she’d been bound for some time and tortured. Willa went through a lot before she succumbed to a cut to her throat. Insect activity showed she’d been at that spot where we found her for about three days.”

  Harry turned to Josh, “Look, I need to give Skye a little bit of background info before continuing. You want to leave us alone for a few minutes?”

  Skye brooded into her coffee mug, gave her longtime friend an anxious frown. “Whatever it is, Harry, I don’t mind it if Josh stays.”

  Harry lifted a shoulder. “All right. You know that I’ve been going through cold cases to see if I could find any victims from around 1993 who might fit into the ‘possible’ category. I came across two cases in HITS. And one is a little bizarre. Try to hear me out first before you jump down my throat.”

  Puzzled, Skye said, “I feel like I should sit down or something.”

  Harry cast a bleak look at one, then the other, before letting out a heavy sigh. “Might not be a bad idea.”

  “Maybe we should both sit down,” Josh proffered. “What exactly is HITS?”

  “A database used by law enforcement that stores crime-related information. Various agencies put in characteristics of crimes so if anything similar pops up, we know about it statewide. It’s been around since 1987, first used in Bundy’s crimes and then utilized by the Green River Task Force.”

  Skye and Josh exchanged glances. “This sounds promising.”

  “The thing is I have a box of evidence from a cold case that goes back twenty years, a verified homicide. But I’ll get to that in a minute. The other case is a bare-bones file folder on a young soldier’s wife who went missing about the same time of the murder. Both have a connection to Fort Lewis, Washington, before it was known as Joint Base Lewis-McChord.