Sea of Bones

by Vickie McKeehan

  The grounds were meticulously tidy. No overgrown flower beds laced with unwanted weeds for the neighborhood’s upper crust to diss and then turn on their fellow man.

  The house lived up to its hype. The place had nine bedrooms and almost as many bathrooms so everyone could spread out without bumping into a coworker.

  The chef turned out to be an amiable sort, a man in his forties named Tanner Trinidad. He operated the spotless kitchen, took care of the cleaning chores, and didn’t mind taking special orders.

  Once everyone got unpacked and settled into their rooms, though, Josh called a meeting.

  “Just so everyone’s on the same page, we want everyone kept in the loop,” Josh announced, as he ushered them all into a library on the first floor.

  Judy stared in awe at the room full of books, floor to ceiling, there were so many she wasn’t sure which ones to touch first. She ran her hand along the spines of first editions. Lovingly, she tipped one book in particular toward her and held it in her hands like a fragile piece of China. “I know what I’m doing tonight, curling up with Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon. Imagine getting to read all this stuff anytime you wanted. Look at this, Reggie. It’s even signed.”

  “So I see. There’s also Beloved,” Reggie added, pointing to the other end of the shelf. He got a kick out of seeing her eyes bug out.

  “Is it really okay if I take these books back to my room tonight?” Judy asked.

  Josh’s lips curved. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just don’t read it with sticky fingers or after eating popcorn.”

  “I’d never do that,” Judy proclaimed, clutching the valuable treasure to her chest. “I’m a big fan of Toni’s books. They kept me sane all those years that I couldn’t leave my house.”

  “Aww, honey,” Reggie said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and placing a kiss on her temple. “I guess I know what I should get you for Christmas then.”

  “Oh, no, I already own all her books. You don’t have to buy me first editions. But this…it’s an opportunity I don’t want to pass up.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Reggie muttered as they grabbed seats around a sleek, shiny mahogany conference table.

  “This place is impressive,” Brayden noted. “I already took advantage of the snacks you bought. When’s dinner served around here anyway?”

  Skye chuckled. “Growing boy, check the schedule on the chalkboard in the kitchen.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I must’ve missed that.”

  “Looking for food, I imagine,” Skye retorted with a grin. She took her place at the whiteboard copying over everything from the photo on her phone she’d taken earlier. “I hope the fancy surroundings won’t be a distraction. In the end, it’s just a house.”

  “With a chef,” Judy supplied in a whisper. “He’s right down the hall. I asked him if I could fix hot cocoa at bedtime. You know what he said?”

  “What?”

  “I should make myself at home, just clean up afterward. I can do that.”

  Josh stood next to Skye. “We have a killer to catch. One we haven’t seen before. This guy is calculating, and he’s playing with us. Harry found a tracker on his SUV and one on the car my parent’s drive. The only one it seems he didn’t get to is Travis’s. It was free and clear of any devices. Which means none of you drive your own vehicles without having them checked out first.”

  “Makes more sense why you took this nuclear option,” Leo admitted. “I was skeptical, but the chase scene got to me. You need to add Sam Baker under victims. How’d he get that guy posed so fast?”

  “Must’ve had him in the passenger seat all along and when he bailed, he propped him up behind the wheel,” Josh proposed.

  “Okay, then where did he disappear to at the marina?” Leo asked.

  “Boat,” Skye uttered. “Why didn’t we check the boats? He could be halfway to Canada by now.”

  “Boats have come up before,” Brayden added. “He must have crossed paths with the Dolans somewhere near Copalis Beach the night they moored off the coast.”

  Skye clucked her tongue at that. “Which means Griffiths-Priday State Park and that beach play a significant role in the killer’s background. Leo, maybe you could check data and see if any murders happened there from 2008 going forward.”

  “Good idea. Hell, I’ll go back even farther than that.”

  “Winston, how are we coming on finding a list of the students enrolled at UDub the same time as Dave and Lindsey.”

  “As you’d expect, it’s slow going. But I am making progress. I might have something for you to look at by tomorrow.”

  “He’s giving us his old bodies,” Josh muttered out loud. “He’s giving up what’s in his freezer. Why?”

  “Attention, plain and simple,” Skye answered. “He’s tired of the anonymity. He craves notoriety for his crimes. He thinks he’s smarter than the police, thinks he smarter than us.”

  “Right now, he kind of is,” Reggie added. “I’m good at my job, research, tracking down people, finding obscure things. But I’ve made mistakes with this guy. He always seems to be one step ahead of us.”

  “Yeah. Well, we need to make up ground and get one step ahead of him,” Josh fired back. “For incentive, I don’t think I need reminding any of you that Jennifer Mack might still be alive. But with each day that passes the odds drop considerably.”

  “Reggie’s still working on the data from the hard drive. Although now it looks like it might’ve been planted. So I don’t know how much time you want him to devote to that,” Leo pointed out. “I’m still tracking the hits from the camera at Copalis Beach because I don’t think he knows we’ve connected that to him. I don’t think he ever knew it was gone. It could be a goldmine down the road, providing us with valuable data.”

  Skye wasn’t so sure. “But that’s how we were directed to two locations already that blew up in our faces. My guess is that was preplanned on his part. No, we need to find something solid on our own that points to where he is. Spying with the camera will only lead us to another false end.”

  “I’m open to suggestions,” Leo said. “But I want to go on record as saying I don’t trust this Lakin for input. Whatever it is we do, we keep to ourselves.”

  Josh nodded. “I can live with that.”

  “Me too,” Skye muttered. “I doubt Lakin will share anything now. Which makes me not really in the mood to give him what we know.”

  Later that afternoon, Skye found Winston in the kitchen making himself a cup of tea. “I hear you’re trying to find your birth mother? That’s the reason you’ve been so unsociable lately.”

  “Wouldn’t you be? I mean, all my parents, the people who I thought could be trusted, all they had to do was tell me the truth.”

  “Believe it or not, I understand how parents will often foster a lie.”

  “Really? You and Travis?”

  “Oh, yeah. I never knew he was my real dad until he was forced to come clean about everything. And then, he only did it because I was working on a case where Daniel Cree was a suspect. I needed facts about the past, not some made-up version. Pile on the fact that I was pissed off because Travis could’ve stepped up and told the truth at any time to the judge before I got shipped off to an aunt and uncle in Yakima who didn’t even want me. Or know anything about me. Things could be a lot worse, Win. Trust me. A lot worse. When all this over, I promise I’ll help you locate your birth mother.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “I see now that knowing the truth is the only thing that will ever set you free. I know it did me.”

  ****

  The Capitol Hill section of the city made an impression. It could go from boho to grunge, settle into the heartbeat of counterculture, or entertain the residents with music and film festivals. From the statue of Jimi Hendrix to the gravesite of Bruce Lee, tourists came for the nightlife, frequenting the museums as much as the local coffeehouses.

  Detective Mark Lakin called this trendy neighborhood home. For a singl
e guy not yet thirty, the area offered everything a millennial loved. Sushi bars. Steakhouses. French cuisine. Karaoke. Night clubs. Mark had inherited the townhouse from his aunt. He’d spent the last year and a half fixing it up. Since he was moving up in rank and making a name for himself within the homicide unit, he’d splurged on things like backsplash and new appliances for the kitchen and new hardwood flooring for the downstairs.

  As the youngest detective on the murder squad, he took a lot of ribbing from the old dudes who’d outlasted their usefulness. Guys like Drummond had retired for a reason. Others needed to because all they did was approach the job like punching a clock. Either way, their conviction rate bordered on dismal. A fact that irked him daily. In his mind, they let cases stack up without running down viable leads or knocking on doors. Mark didn’t intend to pick up any of their bad habits. Amateurs like the Anders didn’t fare much better. To his way of thinking, they were too reckless without much to show for their efforts.

  Mark took his job seriously. So what if his social life suffered because he worked late hours?

  Which is why he didn’t walk through the door at his house until almost nine-thirty that evening. After putting in fourteen hours on the job, he’d stopped to get Chinese takeout and decided he’d eat it in front of the TV catching up on SportsCenter.

  Entering the house through the utility room, he tossed his keys into a bowl and went straight to the counter where he unloaded the food out of the sacks.

  “Do I dirty up a plate or eat out of the box?” he muttered to himself, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator.

  Convenience and hunger won out as he began peeling back the carton on his order of fried rice and orange chicken. He pulled out a tray from underneath the cabinet, stacked it all on board, including the chopsticks, and headed into the living room where his seventy-inch, big-screen TV waited. It took up practically an entire side of one wall. But tonight, Mark felt like he’d earned the right to park his butt down, put his feet up, and enjoy the last half of the basketball game out of Portland.

  His luck, the team was behind by ten points, losing to the Miami Heat. But when Lillard nailed a three-pointer, it gave him hope that his team could make up the difference.

  Digging into his food and riveted to the action happening on the court, he didn’t hear the creaking of the floorboards overhead or the footsteps coming down the stairs.

  Mark never saw the man enter the living room or creep up behind him. He never saw the gun aimed at the back of his head. The last thing Mark did was whoop and holler at another three-pointer. It was the last thing he ever did.

  Seventeen

  Tucked away between an alpine forest and a nature preserve east of Seattle, Safe House Number One was near capacity. Built into a five-hundred-acre basin, the rustic lodge could easily house ten people comfortably, but with eight already crammed into its interior, some who didn’t want to be there, it meant everyone had to bunk with somebody.

  In such close quarters, Zoe had resigned herself to spending forced time with her family and made it her personal mission to take care of Sierra. Travis and Lena were just happy to be able to keep both girls safe and within easy reach.

  After the ordeal with the severed head, Doug and Phyllis seemed content in the backcountry’s hideaway, anything to forget the scene back on Bainbridge Island and the farmhouse. The couple would have much preferred being back in the comfort of their own home but understood the dangers of doing so meant they might come face to face with a serial killer.

  Harry seemed calmer than the rest. After all, it was his job to keep everyone safe. Which was why he began his morning before seven in the kitchen with Deborah, cracking eggs into a bowl to make a huge breakfast casserole filled with crumbled sausage and potatoes.

  Cooking for a crowd was so different than his regular routine—forcing down a bowl of tasteless oatmeal by himself—that he had to come to terms with how fast things were happening and adjust.

  It shouldn’t have been a hardship to leave behind murder and mayhem in the big city for the peaceful, pristine countryside. Their first night in the wooded setting had been blessedly uneventful. Zoe’s grumbling had eased off when she realized that Sierra needed her. The seventeen-year-old managed to put aside her sulkiness long enough to help the youngest member of their troop pretend like they were on an adventure.

  But being thrown together like this, there were certain rules to follow. No social media. No phones, except the one burner that allowed both houses to communicate with one another.

  Deborah had just taken the hot pan out of the oven when the burner phone began to blow up with text messages and forwarded calls from Harry’s regular cell. His man on the inside was letting him know that Lakin hadn’t reported for work. A welfare check had revealed the young detective had been found dead, a gunshot wound to the back of the head.

  “What’s wrong?” Deborah asked. “You look white as a sheet. Is it bad news?”

  Harry looked around the dining table from one face to the next. “Lakin’s been murdered. If anyone here ever thought we overreacted, think again. Our twisted serial killer got to a detective.”

  Doug stood up. “Phyllis and I aren’t complaining. The head was enough to convince us he means business.”

  Harry’s eyes leveled on Zoe. “Now maybe you understand the gravity of the situation.”

  Zoe’s eyes stayed on her plate. “Okay. I do. I just didn’t want to miss class and fall behind. Is that so terrible?”

  Travis poured himself another cup of coffee. “No, but you should understand that we took steps for your own personal safety. Being on campus right now isn’t a good idea.”

  Lena began to dish out portions from the casserole and pile it onto plates. “Does Skye know about this? Because her first reaction will be that the police will redirect all their efforts on finding Lakin’s killer instead of Jennifer Mack.” She glanced over at Deborah. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s okay because I know you’re right.” Deborah stared at Harry. “We all know she’s right.”

  Harry let out a sigh, knowing it was true. “Hopefully that energy to catch Lakin’s killer will net the same guy. Gotta be, right? I better update Skye on what I know so far.”

  He sent off a text message to her, asking her to call. The burner phone rang in his hands. Even in retirement, Harry still answered all calls with one word, “Drummond.”

  “So are we assuming Lakin was taken out by our suspect?” Skye began.

  “That’s the way I’d go.”

  “Makes sense. Maybe Lakin was onto something and tipped his hand. Whatever, we just lost our last hope of getting inside information.”

  “Maybe not. My guy’s still there and willing to help. But let’s face it, Lakin was an immature, inexperienced jerk,” Harry declared. “The only way to know if he tipped his hand is to read his notes on the case. I’ll make arrangements for you and Josh to get inside Lakin’s house on the sly and view the crime scene for yourselves. Unless you think that would be a mistake.”

  “No, it’s a good idea. This might be the first murder his guy’s committed that didn’t require chloroform and abducting the victim and taking them to an unknown location. It could be a significant change in behavior.”

  “More weird changes like posing his victims on public streets and sending severed heads?”

  “He’s warped, so…yeah. We had an encounter with him yesterday.”

  “No kidding? How did that work out?”

  “A wild car chase that led to our checking for the tracking devices. It ended near the marina and another frozen body, posed behind the wheel of a car. I’ll send you the photos I took. The victim is Sam Baker. We found him propped up in his own Nissan, reported stolen in 2013. Lakin promised he’d keep us in the loop but showed up angry with an attitude only hours after the agreement. Which makes me believe that even if he hadn’t been murdered, Lakin had no intentions of cooperating with us. He just spouted a bunch of e
mpty words that meant nothing. So we took a vote and decided not to share anything else with the cops going forward. Are you on board with that?”

  “You don’t even have to ask. I’m fine with it. A wild chase, huh? Sounds like our guy is coming unhinged in short order.”

  “Frozen bodies aren’t something you see every day. How’s everything there?”

  “It’s not the zoo I thought it would be.”

  Skye tittered with laughter. “That’s good to know.”

  “How is it on your end?”

  “A few wisecracks about how we rushed into a bunker, but if Lakin was taken out by this guy, then I think that proves our point.”

  “In spades.”

  Sierra ran up to Harry and reached her hands up. “Mama.”

  “I have someone here who’s eager to talk to you.” He reached down, scooped the girl up, and held the phone to her ear.

  “Hey, baby. How’s Mama’s big girl? Are you having fun playing with Atka and Zoe?”

  “Uh-huh. Atka sleeps with me. But the bad man scared Mimi and Paw-paw. We’re hiding in the woods now.”

  “I know. But it’s only for a short while. I promise. Daddy and I will take care of the bad man. Kiya will see to it.”

  For a reply, her pint-sized daughter howled into the phone. Given the tense situation, Skye couldn’t help it, she put the phone on speaker and held it up on her end so everyone else could hear the racket. In her proud mommy voice, she announced to the team, “This is my girl, living in the moment. We all should take a page out of her book and do a lot more of that.”

  ****

  By nightfall, Skye and Josh found themselves standing inside Lakin’s townhouse. The crime scene was still a mess with blood stains all over the sofa and splatter everywhere right smack in the middle of the Chinese food he was chowing down on at the time.

  “Jeez, I didn’t like the guy, but no one deserves this,” Josh stated as he walked around the living room. “It looks like the guy crept up behind him, aimed, and fired.”