Ashes and Bone

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Ashes and Bone Page 3

by Stacy Green


  “I need you two to move aside while we look at the vehicle.” Cage stepped past them to examine the door. Kneeling, he ran a hand along the hinges and then the casing, before trying to pull it open enough to get a better look inside.

  “What do you think?” Gina crossed her arms with an expectant look on her face. She’d already come to her own conclusion, Jaymee realized, and wanted to see if Cage agreed.

  “I don’t think he got out during the storm,” Cage said. “Look at the way the hinges are. If he’d opened it in that wind, the door would have been caught up immediately.” Cage swept his long arm back for emphasis. “At the very least, the wind would have bent the frame significantly, if not ripped the door clean off.”

  “What are you saying?” A spark of hope flickered in Jaymee’s head.

  “I think the damage from the door is because of the wreck. Somebody hit the driver’s door, dented it in, and then Nick struggled to get it open.”

  Cage studied the skid marks for a moment and then went back to the door, nose nearly against the dent. “There’s paint marks here, Gina.”

  “I figured.” She pointed to the black streaks across the pavement. “We’ll have to get a specialist out here to tell us for sure, but I’m thinking there are two sets of marks. One car may have been going significantly faster than the other, the second vehicle traveling in the opposite direction.”

  “Could be the storm blew someone into him,” Cage said. “Slams the door, car slide and come to a stop. Door’s damaged, stuck.” He toed the gravel on the shoulder. “And with the force of the wind, trace evidence might be gone.”

  He snapped on a pair of latex gloves. The sterile sound echoed across the empty fields and made gooseflesh break out on Jaymee’s arms. Cage took hold of the side of the door, wedging his hands in the gap between it and the car, and pulled. The metal groaned and squealed, but the door opened easily.

  “Look there,” Gina said.

  A footprint on the inside of the door. “He kicked it open.” The flame of hope Jaymee felt just a moment before snuffed out. “Which means he did—”

  “No,” Cage said. “If he’d kicked this door open during the storm, the wind would have pulled it back, like I said. I think he sat here until the storm was over and then got out. And whoever hit him obviously had to back up. Assuming they waited and didn’t just run.”

  “Then where is he?” Jaymee had about a sliver of control left. Her legs felt pulled down into an inescapable well of grief ready to consume her. “He wasn’t walking on the side of the road. He’s not answering his phone. If he weren’t hurt, he would let me know he was all right.”

  “What did he say when he called earlier?” Gina asked.

  Thinking about the conversation stung. “That he was working on a story. He wasn’t supposed to visit this weekend, but he needed to talk to me about it, he said. In person.”

  “Did he give you any idea what it was about?” Gina asked.

  “No.”

  Jaymee struggled to watch over Cage’s shoulder as the Captain went around to the passenger side. She opened the door and peered inside. “I’d like to know where our other party is. I sent a deputy to the Roselea hospital and called in a favor with the Fayette police. No one reported a wreck in this area. What do you see, Investigator Foster?”

  “Spilt coffee,” Cage said. “Still wet. No sign of blood, but…”

  “Go on.”

  “See the airbag? It looks almost like it’s been wiped off.” He pointed to the center console. “And same thing here.” He put his nose to the material. “Smells like some kind of wipe.”

  “Who cleans up their mess after they wreck?” Dani asked.

  Another scenario brewed in Jaymee’s head. But the idea made little sense. Still, her brain latched onto the seed of thought and began to cultivate it.

  “Jay, you said he was coming down here about a story?” Cage asked.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Did you take his laptop bag out of the car?”

  “No. I didn’t touch anything.”

  “It’s not here,” Gina said. “Suitcase is, but not the laptop bag.”

  “Well, that is what Nick would take with him.” Bitterness laced Jaymee’s tone, and she burned with shame.

  “But his cellphone is missing too,” Cage said. “So if he took his laptop and cell, why haven’t you heard from him?”

  The seed sprouted into full bloom, malignant and unyielding. “What are you getting at?”

  Cage pulled the keys out of the ignition. He knelt at the tire tracks, silent and shoulders rigid. “We really need a tire expert, but good luck with that. Closest one is in Jackson, and they were hit hard earlier. But,” he ran a gloved finger along one of the marks, “see this one in the northbound lane? Nick was headed south, into town. I’ve worked a few accidents, and usually, when someone swerves, the marks are jagged. Fast. These have a weird curve that makes me wonder. Could have been the wind’s force but they almost look …” He glanced up at Gina, and they exchanged a look that made Jaymee’s blood turn to ice.

  “Intentional.” Gina stood at the trunk. “Give me the keys, Cage.”

  Jaymee stumbled backward against Dani.

  “I’m sure he’s not in there.” Dani’s words were shaky. “They’re just looking for the laptop.”

  Slowly, the trunk rose. Jaymee swayed, never taking her eyes off Cage’s face. After more than a decade of friendship, reading him came easily. Impassive at first and then a flash of relief.

  “It’s empty.”

  “Thank God,” Jaymee breathed.

  “Meaning the laptop bag isn’t in here either,” Gina said.

  Cage walked along the edge of the field, staring into the dirt just as Jaymee had. She knew what he was thinking. “Why wouldn’t he call if he were on foot?”

  “Maybe his phone died,” Dani said.

  “It was ringing for a while,” Jaymee said. “That means it was on. And suddenly, it’s straight to voicemail.”

  “Which means,” Gina said, “either the battery died, or he shut it off.”

  “He wouldn’t do that,” Jaymee said. “Not when he knew the storm was heading for me.”

  “No, he wouldn’t,” Cage agreed. His eyes focused intently on Jaymee. They held a look she hadn’t seen since his sister died. “He wouldn’t go off and leave the keys in the ignition. And there were two people involved in this wreck. I’m thinking if the other party was a decent human being, we’d have heard from Nick by now.”

  Gina and Cage continued to examine the car, their conversation now in hushed whispers. Jaymee felt wobbly and knock-kneed. Swaying, she grabbed Dani’s arm for support.

  “Let’s sit down in the truck,” Dani said.

  “No. I want to know what they find.”

  She just knew something bad had happened to Nick, and the storm had nothing to do with it.

  “You two need to leave the scene.” Cage appeared in full cop mode now. His handsome face passive, voice full of authority. Only his eyes betrayed his concern. “We’re having our crime scene people come out and process.”

  Jaymee stared, knowing Cage had delivered the news matter-of-factly because he knew her, knew she wasn’t some lily who would crumple.

  “What do you think’s happened?” Dani asked.

  “We don’t think he left willingly. We’ll do another check of the hospitals—it’s possible they went north, away from the storm—but the fact that Nick hasn’t called is what bothers me. We’ll get some volunteers to search the neighboring fields if we can. Might be tough since everyone’s cleaning up after the storm.” He looked at Dani. “You ought to check Ironwood.”

  “That’s a good idea,” she said. “He might have headed there on foot after the storm passed.”

  Jaymee knew Ironwood was less than a mile away, with Oak Lynn just down the road. Ashland and Riverview were close as well. “If he’d gone to Ironwood, he would have called.”

  “Won’t hurt to check
,” Cage said. “And you two need to go on. Search around town all you want, but you can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”

  Feeling as if she’d been hit with a stun gun, Jaymee allowed Dani to lead her back to the truck where Mutt anxiously waited. She snapped on her seatbelt as Dani got in the driver’s seat and started the engine. From the backseat, Mutt rested his head on her shoulder, gently licking her face.

  “We’ll go to Ironwood, see if Nick’s there.” Dani’s attempt at positivity fell flat. “And then we’ll hit town.”

  “We won’t find him,” Jaymee said. “Someone’s taken him.”

  “If that’s the case, Cage and Gina will figure it out. They’ll find him.”

  4

  NICK

  My wrists are stinging like I’ve been slicing them with a knife. My feet and ankles are bound together with some sort of industrial strength twine. Every time I try to wiggle in my restraints, the twine cuts into my skin. All I do is bleed and struggle and bleed some more. Keeping calm is a pipe dream, and every breath reminds me of my injuries. The airbag broke at least one rib, and that injury is considerably more painful than I realized. So I try to focus on my anger and not let despair drain me.

  How did I not see this coming?

  I’ve been trying to count the hours I’ve been stuck in this dark place, but I honestly don’t know. It’s a closet, I think. Dusty. There’s shelving, but they are empty. Nothing to use to bash his head in. Just a dark empty space with only me and my thoughts.

  I should have told Jaymee what I knew over the phone. But wind and a storm from hell put me out of sorts. What a gigantic mistake. I doubt anyone knows why I was taken. Cage is a good enough cop. I know he will figure out I’m working on a story, and maybe the fake artifacts were the catalyst, but how can he find the right story? I hadn’t left any clues behind. Guarded it like a jealous boyfriend.

  Pulitzer material.

  Maybe.

  It’s big, that’s for damned sure. Exposing decades of lies from the last people anyone would suspect.

  I’m not a guy who fears much. At least, not for myself. I’ve hung out with gangs and drug dealers and exposed some of the nastiest people in the state. Never once was I truly afraid. I always have an escape plan. I know the risks, know the territory, know how to maneuver out of a jam.

  But I don’t have a clue how to get myself out of this situation. Much less deal with an opponent who’s pretty much gone off his rocker and can’t decide if he hates me or wants to apologize.

  Too bad I didn’t figure out the true threat until he helped me out of my car and into his. He came at me from the other side of the road, and I’d assumed the wind was the real culprit. Dazed and bleeding, I gratefully accepted his offer to take me to the hospital before the storm ate us both. After all, he is an upstanding citizen and obviously felt terrible about hitting me.

  Never even saw it coming.

  Judging from the burning spot on my neck, the little bastard injected me with something. Next thing I knew I woke up here, wherever here is.

  He barely says a word.

  Now, despite the dark, I know he’s left the building. He’d been in a panic. Something about a spreading fire and needing to help.

  Like I said, upstanding citizen.

  That might have been a minute ago. Or an hour. I’m losing track of time, and I’m sure whatever he gave me is keeping my head whacky.

  Is Jaymee all right? She won’t be alone, and she’s strong. She can handle this. And if I’m not found, she’ll get by. She’ll be safe. I’m pretty sure he believes me when I say she knows nothing about the story. She found the fakes in the chifforobe, but those wouldn’t lead her in the right direction.

  Police will find the car and hopefully the cartridge. Cage will know it was important. I’m praying it leads their investigation down the same road it did me, but my discovery was sheer, dumb luck.

  My wife used to tell me my quest for justice and truth would get me in trouble someday.

  Turns out, she was right.

  5

  JAYMEE

  Dani drove too fast down curvy White Creek Road, but Jaymee was too numb to tell her to slow down. Scenario after scenario of what might have happened to Nick careened through her head, and not a damned one had a happy ending. Foolishly, she kept her eyes trained on the side of the road, praying that at any moment, she’d see Nick on foot, laptop bag slung over his shoulder.

  Another sharp curve and the vegetation thickened. They were close to Ironwood. Tree limbs scattered across the road, along with debris Jaymee hoped didn’t come from the house.

  “Shit.” Dani cursed. Ironwood’s mailbox lay in the middle of the road, busted. Her knuckles whitened as the trees thinned, and the peak of Ironwood’s widow’s walk came into view. Jaymee hoped the house had survived unscathed. Dani and Cage had put so much work into the restoration, and the discovery of the original owner’s cache of family heirlooms had put the place on the National Historic Register.

  “She’s all right.” Dani exhaled hard. Weathered and proud, Ironwood emerged. A few shingles were missing on the roof. Porch furniture had been broken and scattered. One of the railings to the upper balcony had been torn off, and the live oak had lost a big branch, but thankfully, it had fallen to the ground. The carriage house—Cage’s home for many months—had a broken window and missing shingles. All in all, the damage seemed minor.

  “Stroke of luck the exterior painters come next week.” Jaymee’s meager hopes for seeing Nick evaporated. He didn’t have a key to the house or to the carriage house, and she didn’t see any sign of him on the property.

  “I may have left the back door unlocked.” Dani read her thoughts. They sprinted out of the truck with Mutt following closely behind. Dani kicked the debris on the porch out of the way and quickly unlocked the door.

  “Nick?” Jaymee called. Her voice echoed off the restored French marble in the entryway. Mutt barked his own distressed call. Dani headed past her. “I’ll check upstairs, you look down here.” She hurried up the right side of the house’s marquee dual staircase, and Jaymee went through the motions of checking the bottom floor.

  Normally, she meandered, admiring the work Dani had done and inspecting the Laurent family antiques for the umpteenth time. But she barely noticed the magnificent sideboard in the dining room or the sofa in the parlor. She walked right past the painting of John James Laurent, Civil War hero and builder of Ironwood. The painting had been arguably the biggest find in the cache, painted by George Healy, the same portrait painter who’d immortalized General Sherman and President Lincoln on canvas. Dani cried when she found it.

  The library was empty. So was the great room. And the bathrooms. Nick wasn’t there.

  She met Dani at the foot of the great staircase. The look on her friend’s face said it all.

  “All right, so we regroup,” Dani said. Mutt nuzzled her hand. “Let’s head back to Magnolia, double check, and then drive around town.”

  * * *

  Jaymee and Dani drove around another hour, stopping first at Oak Lynn. The house had weathered the storm with only minimal damage and a leveled outbuilding. Thankfully, sweet Grace was fine. Her no-good son was in town again, so at least she wasn’t alone.

  They promised to keep an eye out for Nick. Ben Moore even planned on walking the property.

  “How generous of him,” Dani said as they drove away. “After the way he treated me last summer, I can’t believe he’s got the nerve to look me in the eye.”

  “Me either,” Jaymee said. “But narcissists never see their own faults. Ben still thinks he’s a victim. Probably always will.”

  In town, they picked their way around downed tree limbs and other scattered debris. No sign of Nick. No one had seen him. The radio reported the storm had hit Natchez, their neighbor to the south, much harder. Several of the historical homes suffered millions of dollars in damage.

  “He never made it to town,” Jaymee said as she unlocked Magnolia’s d
oor. Over three hours had passed since the terror blew through. Evening approached, and still no sign of Nick. Every second stole another bit of her remaining hope that Nick was still alive. Cage hadn’t called, so she assumed he had nothing to report. She supposed processing the scene would take a while.

  An enormous emptiness bloomed inside her, dark as a stained rose, and she sank into the nearest chair. She’d kept the tears away all afternoon. But now, angry moisture welled in her eyes, rolling down her face and onto her lips.

  “Who would take him?” She burst out.

  “We don’t know—”

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense, Dani. He would have called if he could. He takes his laptop but not the keys to the car?”

  Dani sat down next her. “You’re right. As for who would take him, he’s an investigative reporter who isn’t afraid to get dirty. He’s got enemies. And if Cage’s hunch was right and whoever hit him did it intentionally…”

  “Cage should call Jackson.” Jaymee reached for her phone. “They need people digging into Nick’s house and experts to find out about the paint from the other vehicle.”

  Dani caught her hand. “He knows that. So does Gina.”

  Of course they did. Both were good cops and Jaymee an armchair detective. Still, the waiting made her want to beat something.

  “I’m sure they’ll call soon.” Dani slung the bag she’d brought over her shoulder. She’d insisted on staying with Jaymee for the night. “I’m going to dump this in the guest room without a broken window, and then I’ll find us something to eat.”

  “Shit, the windows. I need to clean the glass and close the shutters.”

  “So we’ll do that first. At least you’ll be busy.”

  A knock on the door sent Jaymee’s heart into overdrive. Nick had come home, surely. She ran toward the door.

  Please, God.

  “Jaymee, Dani? You in there?” The gravelly voice of Jeb Riley, Adams County’s aging coroner, echoed through the wood. Jaymee’s hopes deflated like a released balloon spinning into the sky, and she sank to her knees in the entryway. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.

 

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