As she led Reese away from the crime scene toward another campsite, she gave Jorge a meaningful look. He tilted his head in response – message received. He would keep a close watch on the lawyer.
Once they’d moved far enough away to have a little privacy, Maria stopped walking. “Okay, what’s going on? Why do you have a lawyer?”
“My parents thought it would be best. Since I was the only survivor.”
“I guess I can understand that. It’s a shame, though. We’d expected to get your cooperation with this investigation. We’re working hard to find whoever killed your friends.”
Reese looked startled. His mouth hung slack, what Ben called the ‘fish out of water’ expression when he saw it on his students. “But that hasn’t changed. I’ll still cooperate.”
“Maybe you want to, but in my experience, lawyers don’t let their clients talk to the police very often. Even to give statements.” She was giving the kid a hard time, but she couldn’t help it. She was pissed – if not at Reese, then with his parents. The last thing they needed was a barricade between the investigation and the only living witness.
“He’s not going to fuck this up. I won’t let him.”
Some of Reese’s spirit had returned, and she was grateful. As long as he called the shots, they’d be okay. Maria believed he really did want to find out what had happened to his friends. It was hard to imagine the horror of what he’d experienced, waking up in that tent, not having a clue what he was about to discover. “What are you doing here, Reese? What are you looking for?”
Reese’s fingers clutched at the cuffs of his hoodie and he pulled the sleeves over his hands. It was a warm day, but he was shivering. She wondered if Reese had always been cold, or if this was a side effect of the trauma he’d gone through.
“Um…remember I told you Dan and I had a beer that night?”
“Yes?”
“Prosper thinks there might have been something in them.”
Her expression must have betrayed what she was thinking, because he rushed to explain.
“We were normal one minute, laughing and shooting the shit, and then I just passed out. I don’t remember falling asleep. My lawyer thinks maybe we were drugged.”
It wasn’t a bad theory, save for the fact that beer bottles were nearly impossible to tamper with before they were opened, unless the baddie happened to own a bottle-recapping machine. “Do you remember anything strange about the beer? Did the cap hiss when you twisted it? Was the beer flat?”
Reese toed the dirt with his sneaker, which was getting grimier by the second. “It wasn’t flat, but I can’t remember if I heard a hiss. The sound of the fire probably covered it if there was. It was pretty loud because the wood was so dry.”
“Where did you leave the bottles?” It was a long shot, but this crime was already so strange, who could tell what was relevant and what was not? Maybe the kid’s fancy-ass lawyer was on to something.
“We threw them in the fire.”
Great. “I’ll find them, and as long as the glass isn’t shattered, we might be able to get some readings off it. Okay?”
He nodded, still looking like he wanted to sink into the soil and disappear.
“Now why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”
She’d anticipated a few protests, or at least an attempt at ignorance, perhaps a few wide-eyed What do you mean’s? or I don’t know what you’re talking about’s. But once again, she’d misjudged him.
“It’s going to sound stupid.”
“Try me.”
“I’ve been having nightmares.” Reese’s voice dropped so low it was nearly a whisper. He was also jumpy, as though afraid something was sneaking up behind him. No one could blame him. The kid had balls to come back here; she’d give him credit for that. It had been tough enough for Maria to return and it was her job.
“Nothing stupid about that. You saw something beyond ghastly, something no one should ever have to see. I’d wonder if you weren’t having nightmares.”
The image of the Kira-thing from her own dream came to mind, but she forced it aside. She had a feeling Reese was trying to tell her something important, but what?
“These – they, oh Christ, they’re not ordinary nightmares. They’re too real.”
The kid was shaking all over now. She patted his arm, wishing she could do more to comfort him. “What are they about, Reese?”
He raised his gaze to hers then, and she was troubled to see his eyes were full of tears. “I saw Dan. Dan was alive, and he begged me to come back for him. He needs help.”
Her heart twisted. Poor kid. “Reese, you know Dan isn’t alive,” she said as gently as she could. “No one could survive what happened to him.”
“I know.” Reese swiped at his wet cheeks with his sleeve. “It doesn’t make sense. But I couldn’t leave him out here. I had to come. I wanted to last night when I woke up, but Dad wouldn’t let me. He said it would look bad, like I was guilty. He made me bring Prosper.”
“Your dad was probably right.” She didn’t think Reese was guilty, but even she would have had to wonder if he’d been brave enough to return at night. At the very least, it would have looked strange. “But it’s okay you waited, because Dan isn’t here.”
She began to tell him the bodies had been taken to the morgue, but bit her lip before the words could escape. Telling him would be worse than senseless. It would be cruel.
Reese appeared to understand without her saying the words. “Can I see the tent again? I keep thinking I must have missed something.”
Her initial impulse was to say no, to protect the crime scene at all costs. But the techs had finished processing the tent where Dan and Reese had spent the night.
The one that had held Kira’s body would take a lot longer.
“Follow me. I can let you look inside, but you can’t touch anything or go inside it, okay?”
He nodded, falling in behind her without a word of protest. She hadn’t expected one. The forensics people had no choice but to go in there, and even they hadn’t wanted to. With the sauna-like effect of the nylon accelerating decomposition, the place stank like a slaughterhouse.
“I’m taking him to see the tent,” she told Jorge as they passed. The lawyer was trying to chat with him, but her partner had never been much for small talk. “We’ll be right back.”
After snapping on a latex glove, she held the tent flap open for Reese so he could look inside. The odor was stronger after another day in the sun, but the kid didn’t appear to notice. He certainly didn’t react, just stared inside for a few minutes, searching for something he couldn’t explain and probably didn’t understand. Maria was thankful the tent was such a dark shade of blue. It intensified the sun’s warmth, but it also made the blood harder to see. The only place the carnage was obvious was on the mesh window. Brown droplets splashed across the white material like an abstract painting, and she suspected that’s what Reese would focus on.
“You weren’t hurt during the attack.” It was more statement than question. The preliminary results had begun to come in, revealing that all the blood in the tent was Dan’s.
“Wait a minute. What’s that?”
Moving as carefully as she could, she held the tent’s other flap aside. “What do you see?”
“Over there – in the corner. That’s not blood.”
Among the pools of gore and fluid not yet dried, and thick flakes of the stuff that had, was a small object. At first she didn’t see it, since it was a similar shade of reddish brown, but moving the tent flaps had let a little more light in.
She pulled two shoe covers out of her pocket and slipped them on before going inside. The techs had supposedly finished with the tent, but it was always better to be overcautious when working a crime scene. However, she wore the booties mostly out of respect. Breathing through her mouth, she du
ck-walked to the item so she wouldn’t touch the tent’s roof with her head. The ceiling was coated with Dan’s blood.
Initially, she’d thought the object was a rock. She was careful to grasp it by its edges as she removed it from the muck.
It was an arrowhead, and from what she could tell, a very old one, skillfully chipped from stone.
How in the hell did that get there? There was no way forensics would have missed it. It must have fallen from Dan when his body was removed. Maria felt claustrophobic, and hurried to join Reese on the outside.
“You have good eyes.” Sealing the arrowhead into an evidence bag, she lifted it to show him.
Reese held out his hand, and she gave him the bag, watching for his reaction. If he recognized the object, he didn’t show it.
“Did Dan mention finding an arrowhead out here?” she asked.
The kid shook his head, turning the bag so the relic glittered in the sun. She was no authority on arrowheads, but her dad had owned a small collection. Maria was pretty sure this one was museum quality.
“Can I have this?”
“Sorry, Reese. It’s evidence.”
Reese gave her a skeptical look. “Don’t tell me you think this was the murder weapon.”
“Well, no, but it could be a clue to our killer. Maybe he’s a collector of some sort, or an archaeologist.”
She didn’t really believe the murderer could be an archeologist. In her experience, scientists were a quiet, cerebral bunch, not the type who would go for this kind of bloodbath. The only sadistic archeologists she’d encountered were in Indiana Jones movies.
“When you’ve finished the investigation, I’d like to have it.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Can I ask why?”
Reese returned the bag. “I’d like something. Some…reminder, I guess. You know, something to remember Dan by.”
“Do you think this was his?” She made a mental note to show the arrowhead to Dan’s family.
“If it was, he didn’t mention it. Maybe he found it here but didn’t want to get guilted into giving it up.” Reese’s lips curved in the faintest smile. “I think he would have liked it, though. The guy loved his tools.”
“I’ll ask his family to consider letting you have it, assuming we don’t need to keep it. If it weren’t for you, we’d never have found it. Not until we moved the tent.”
Everyone dealt with grief in different ways, but Dan’s family had been the most inconsolable. His mother had started screaming and hadn’t quit until someone gave her a tranquilizer.
“Ms. Greyeyes…sorry, Detective. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Why did you tell Jessica’s parents I was going to break up with her? Now they think I killed her.” His voice wavered.
Shit. “I’m sorry, Reese, but I never told them anything of the kind.” Jessica’s parents had been difficult. They were obviously grieving, and it was hard enough to deal with the death of a child without having to cooperate with an investigation, but their level of hostility had surprised everyone in the department. “Did they name me specifically?”
“No. They said the cops, and I figured it was you. I never talked to anyone else.”
“I’ll speak to my team this evening. I apologize. That is not appropriate, and it never should have happened.”
She could imagine her boss bellowing at her, demanding to know what in the fresh hell she thought she was doing. Cops were never supposed to apologize to civilians. It made them liable, as he’d told her again and again, but fuck it. Cops were also human, and in this case, they were at fault. “Would you like me to speak to the McCaffreys?”
This time his smile looked more genuine. “Nah. I don’t think they liked me much to start with.”
“From what I can see, you’re not missing out.” As soon as the words escaped, she longed to take them back. “I’m sorry, I should not have said that.”
These people had lost their daughter in the most atrocious, brutal manner, and she’d just insulted them? What on earth is wrong with me? She really needed to get more sleep.
Reese shrugged. “That’s okay. If it makes you feel better, it’s not just you. They’ve always been…challenging. Jess was like that too.”
Maria shifted her weight, fidgeting. Criticizing Jess’s parents was bad enough, but she wasn’t about to speak ill of a murder victim. Especially not to the guy who had planned to break up with her while scoping out her friend. Reese hadn’t admitted to any involvement with Kira, and the girl’s family certainly hadn’t been aware of any – they didn’t even know who he was – but the truth had been written on his face that morning. She’d seen it. Something had shifted in his eyes when he’d said her name. “Did you get what you needed?” she asked, hoping it was sufficient enough to change the subject. “We’re probably going to take the tent down this afternoon.”
“Yeah, I think I’m good.” But he choked on the last word.
She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Dan isn’t here, in body or in spirit. You understand that, right?”
“I guess.”
She could tell he didn’t believe her, but she didn’t know what else to do. It wasn’t like she could channel Dan’s spirit and get him to weigh in. “You’ve been through a massive trauma, Reese. Do you want to talk to somebody? I know a good pers—”
He cut her off. “No thanks. I’ll be okay, really. I have nothing to complain about. I mean, out of the four of us, I’m the luckiest, right?”
“I’m not so sure about that.” She loved her life, but given the choice between oblivion and finding her friends massacred, she knew which one she’d choose.
Tears spilled over Reese’s cheeks, and this time he didn’t bother brushing them away. It was a start.
“You should go home, and I don’t want to hear that you came back here, okay? It’s not healthy.”
“Okay, Mom.” But he smiled in spite of his tears.
“If you need something, call me. I gave you my card.”
“Or I guess I could always talk to my lawyer.” The way he said the word left no doubt how he felt toward Prosper.
“Better you than me.”
Without warning, Reese wrapped her in a bear hug. Startled, she hugged him back. When he released her, his eyes were red and swollen.
“You take care of yourself, Reese.”
“I’ll try, Detective.”
She couldn’t say for certain who was happiest to see them return, Reese’s lawyer or her partner, but it was a close contest. Once Mr. Fancy Pants had bundled his client into the Audi and backed out of the campsite, she showed Jorge the arrowhead.
“Where’d you find that?” Yanking the bag from her, he held it up to the light for a better look.
“In the tent.” She gestured to Dan’s so he would have no doubt which tent she was referring to.
“But that’s impossible. We went over that tent with a fine-tooth comb for hours. Forensics took samples from every square inch. Where was it?”
“In the southwest corner. Reese found it.”
Her partner raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure he didn’t plant it?”
“Of course I’m sure. Why on earth would he plant an arrowhead? What good would it do him? Actually, he wants to keep it once we’re finished with it.”
Jorge ran his fingers over the surface of the arrowhead, tracing it through the plastic. “This is well made. Probably the finest one I’ve seen.” He handed it back to her. “Just watch yourself, Maria. I don’t trust that kid.”
Chapter Fourteen
“What’s this?”
Maria turned from the stove, where she was making pancakes with Heidi. Since she was home for dinner for a change, she’d left the menu up to her daughter, but she didn’t think Ben would mind. Who didn’t love pancakes for dinne
r?
Her husband held up the plastic evidence bag, his nose crinkled in distaste. The interior of the bag was littered with flakes of dried blood. Dan’s blood.
“Oh shit. I meant to drop that off at the station.” The lack of sleep had clearly made her senile.
Hearing a gasp from her daughter, she tensed, but Heidi only stared at her with those big, dark eyes that were so much like her own. “You said a bad word, Mom.”
Relieved, Maria exhaled with a sigh, feeling her body go limp. She hugged the girl close for a moment, stroking her fine, black hair. Someday soon, Heidi wouldn’t want to be held anymore. She was already getting so big. “Sorry, baby. It won’t happen again. Mom’s tired.”
Now it was Heidi who crinkled her nose. “I’m not a baby. I’m eight.”
“It’s a term of endearment, sport,” Ben said, setting the plastic bag with the arrowhead on top of the fridge after giving Maria a look of warning. Her job was something you didn’t bring home. “I call Mom ‘baby’ all the time, and she’s even older than eight, if you can believe it.”
Maria swatted her husband with the nearest dishtowel. He was a year younger, and he never let her forget it.
“You guys are laughing at me.” Their daughter’s lower lip protruded, and Maria braced herself for a possible tantrum.
“Not laughing at you, laughing with you. It’s a fine distinction,” Ben said, picking Heidi up and tickling her with his beard until she squealed. Crisis averted. Although her husband drove her crazy sometimes, there were other times – like now – when she loved him to distraction. When it came to their daughter, he hit all the right notes, while she often felt out of tune. Ben said the two of them were too alike to get along, and maybe he was right. Still, shouldn’t that mean they understood each other more, not less?
“Now do you want blueberries in those pancakes, or chocolate chips?” He used his most boisterous voice, the one he tended to reserve for firing up his students or distracting their daughter.
“Blueberries,” Heidi shrieked, showing off the gap where her front teeth should have been. The Tooth Fairy had done a brisk business at their house this week. Maria’s husband looked so crestfallen that she laughed.
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