Cold Heart Creek: A nail-biting and gripping mystery suspense thriller (Detective Josie Quinn Book 7)

by Lisa Regan

  Just outside the tent stood Officer Jenny Chan, a member of the ERT, with a clipboard in her hand. A Tyvek suit, complete with a skull cap and booties, covered her uniform. Behind her, the other members of the team, including Hummel, worked slowly and methodically through the mud- and stone-covered bank, collecting whatever evidence they came across. The only sound was the rush of the creek just beyond the scene.

  “Can’t let you go in yet, boss,” Chan told Josie.

  “Of course,” Josie said. “You guys have suits that we can use?”

  “Sure thing,” Chan answered, pointing to a large pile of supplies they had dragged along with them and left several feet from the perimeter of the scene. “There’s a box over there.”

  Noah started toward the box to suit up. Josie remained, craning her neck to peer over Chan’s shoulder. All she could see was the white of naked flesh. “Jesus,” she muttered.

  Chan said, “Female in her twenties. Still in rigor. I’m not a doctor, but I’d say she’s been dead maybe four to six hours.”

  Josie knew that Chan had a few years of crime scene experience under her belt. She had come to Denton from a larger city that saw more crimes. “Thanks,” Josie said.

  “Shouldn’t be much longer.”

  Josie turned away and walked toward the box of crime scene supplies. With every step, her heart felt heavier and heavier in her chest. She took her time pulling on her own Tyvek suit. Once she was finished, she and Noah waited side by side, leaning against a nearby tree trunk. They didn’t speak. Dr. Feist arrived fifteen minutes later. She took one look at them, and her thin lips turned downward. She shook her head and suited up.

  None of them spoke, even when Hummel gave them the signal that they could enter the cordoned-off area. They went over to the tent single file and immediately surrounded the body. The woman was completely naked, arms at her sides, legs pressed together and laid out straight. She looked as though she had simply lain down and gone to sleep. Except that her eyes were still open, as was her mouth; her last expression of fright embedded in her skin forever.

  Noah stood near her head, peering down at her face. “Holy shit,” he said.

  It took a second or two for Josie’s brain to process exactly what she was seeing. Once she got past the horrific look on the girl’s face, and saw her brown hair, she realized that her assumption had been completely wrong.

  “Josie,” Noah said.

  “I know,” she answered.

  “That’s not Emilia Gresham.”

  Josie knelt beside the woman’s head. “No,” she murmured. “This is Renee Kelly.”

  “From the Sanctuary?” Noah said.

  She nodded. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. Behind her, Noah placed a hand on her shoulder. “There was nothing you could have done,” he said.

  “Wasn’t there?” she said, her voice scratchy. “I could have gone back. Made something up, maybe, to get her out of there. Told Charlotte I needed to take her with me.”

  “You know damn well that if she wasn’t ready to leave on her own, anything you did would have just made things worse for her. Josie, this isn’t your fault.”

  She didn’t believe him. Pursing her lips, she willed herself to focus. She would not cry. She would not shake. Whether Renee Kelly’s death was on her or not, the only thing Josie could do for her now was to find her killer.

  Hummel walked around and stood beside Josie. “Boss,” he said softly, drawing her from her thoughts. “I think she was killed somewhere else and moved here.” He pointed down toward her feet and beyond. “See the drag marks in the mud?”

  Two long marks in the shapes of Renee’s heels led up to where her feet rested.

  Josie said, “Did you find any footprints?”

  Hummel shook his head. “It’s weird, but no, we didn’t. I guess he could have walked on the stones but that would be a lot carrying a body in full rigor, and I’d expect to find muddy shoe impressions on the stones themselves. There’s nothing. It’s like this guy is a ghost.”

  Josie stood up. “The boot impressions you found at the Yates campsite—did you get anything on those yet?”

  “We found three different types of boot prints,” he said. “Two of them we matched to the Yates couple. The other one we were able to match by brand and size in the SICAR database.”

  SICAR stood for Shoeprint Image Capture and Retrieval, which was a footwear database used by law enforcement to identify shoeprints left at crime scenes. It contained the sole patterns for thousands of different types of footwear.

  “What was the brand and size of the third boot?” Josie asked.

  “It was a Keen Terradora, women’s size six.”

  Josie sighed. “So that was probably Emilia’s footprint.”

  Noah said, “The hermit didn’t have shoes on when we arrested him. He could have done this. That’s why there are no shoe prints. We know he was at the Yates campsite but there were no additional shoe prints there. We picked him up this afternoon. He could have taken this girl after you and Mettner left the Sanctuary last night, killed her, dumped her body, and made it back to the caverns before we got there. He had a boat. He could have used it to get her here and then gone back. We’re closer to his caverns than the Sanctuary.”

  Hummel said, “We processed that boat when we were out there working in and around the caverns. Didn’t find anything.”

  Noah said, “That doesn’t necessarily rule out the hermit. He still would have had time to do this without using his boat. All he had to do was follow the creek. It goes past the Sanctuary and the tributary runs past his caverns.” He moved around to stand near Renee’s feet, studying the scene thoughtfully. “Look at her. She’s naked, sure, but the way she is staged here is almost…”

  Dr. Feist said, “Modest. He didn’t leave her spread-eagled or in some humiliating position. He left her here because he needed to get her away from wherever he killed her. Not because he was making a statement of some kind.”

  “Right,” Noah said. “Like the Yates couple. They were laid out straight, side by side, just like this except holding hands.”

  “But Renee was living at the Sanctuary. Something was happening to her there,” Josie said. “I don’t think it was the hermit sneaking onto the place and abusing her. I can’t see Charlotte allowing that.”

  “But you said yourself that those people were coached. Why coach them if you’re not hiding something?” Noah countered.

  Frustrated, Josie threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know. They’re definitely hiding something. I’m just not sure what it is. Maybe these cases aren’t connected at all. But I think that Renee recognized Emilia Gresham. When I showed her the photo, she didn’t say she had never seen her, she just said that Emilia wasn’t there.”

  Noah said, “We know the last place she was seen was the Sanctuary. So either she tried to escape—maybe even made it off the property—and someone took her and killed her, or whoever was hurting her on the Sanctuary premises killed her and brought her here.”

  “We can go there but we’re not going to find the crime scene. They’ll have cleaned it up by now,” Josie said.

  Dr. Feist said, “Whoever was hurting her had been doing it for some time.” She knelt and pointed to one of Renee’s wrists. Josie had been so shocked to see Renee Kelly instead of Emilia Gresham, she hadn’t yet taken the time to search for injuries. There were several ligature marks around both of her wrists. Some were old and silvered and others were new, raw, and caked with dried blood. Josie studied the rest of her body. There was bruising around her throat.

  “Manual strangulation,” Dr. Feist said. “That’s what I’d guess. Of course, I’ve got to get her on the table and do the autopsy.”

  Noah said, “Didn’t Maya have scars on her wrists from being bound?”

  “She did,” Josie said.

  “So, we’re back to the hermit.”

  “But the hermit doesn’t have a connection to the Sanctuary. His cave isn’t anywhere near
it,” Josie insisted.

  “Unless that’s the thing they’re hiding over there on the Sanctuary,” Noah pointed out.

  Hummel, who had been silent while they tossed ideas around, said, “Want me to call Mett?”

  “Yes,” Josie said. “Please. Ask him to do some digging to see if Charlotte Fadden and Michael Donovan have any past associations.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  “Well,” Dr. Feist said. “I’ve got my third strangulation case in two days. It seems like there must be a connection somewhere, although I know we can’t force it. We can only work with what the evidence shows.”

  “Valerie and Tyler didn’t have bruising on their throats,” Josie said. “Not like this.”

  “Because they died quickly. Too fast for bruising to take place. This girl was likely repeatedly strangled over a matter of hours before she was finally killed.”

  Josie stared at Renee’s open mouth. “Do you think—”

  “That she’s got a black walnut in her throat?” Dr. Feist asked. “Only one way to find out. Get her to the morgue. I’ll do the autopsy right away. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some of this bastard’s DNA on her body.”

  Thirty-Two

  They waited until an ambulance had taken Renee’s body away before heading back to Noah’s vehicle. The rain had begun again as a light mist, but the air was still thick with humidity. Noah started the car, put the air conditioner on, but made no move to pull away.

  “I want to go to the Sanctuary,” Josie told him.

  “It’s late.”

  “I don’t care. I want to go there.”

  “I know.”

  She motioned toward the steering wheel. “Let’s go.”

  “I need to know you’re okay.”

  “What does that even mean? Okay for what? To work? Yes, I’m fine.” She looked out the window, concentrating on the flashing red lights of Hummel’s cruiser. The ERT packed their things and left, headed back to police headquarters.

  “You’re not sleeping. You’re barely eating. The nightmares—”

  “They don’t matter,” Josie said. “They’re not related to work.”

  She felt his eyes on her. “You can’t tell me these things aren’t affecting you in some way.”

  Finally, she turned and met his gaze. “That girl died because I didn’t save her.”

  Noah’s expression went from frustration to something between shock and sympathy. “Josie, no. That girl died because some psychopath killed her. You know that. Her murder is not on you.”

  She looked away. “Please take me to the Sanctuary.”

  “What could you have done?” he said. “Forcibly removed her from the premises? The law doesn’t work that way. We’re not allowed to do that. You know this. You gave her an opportunity to leave. You waited down the road for her for hours. Then Gretchen waited for hours.”

  Through gritted teeth, Josie said, “We need to go to the Sanctuary.”

  “How many domestics have you worked in your career? Dozens? Hundreds? How many times do we have to let those women walk back into the house after they refuse to press charges, knowing full well they’re going to be beaten again or killed? How many?”

  “Too many,” Josie mumbled.

  “You can’t control everything. You gave Renee Kelly an opportunity to get away, and she chose not to take it.”

  “Or she tried, and they killed her for it.”

  “You think Charlotte is in on whatever was going on with Renee?”

  “You think she’s not?”

  Noah put the car in gear. “Let’s find out.”

  At the Sanctuary, Josie and Noah waited ten minutes on the porch while the same women from before—the ones who had been working in the kitchen—went to get Charlotte. She smiled when she saw them and invited them in, making a small comment about the time. It was after eight p.m. Josie didn’t bother with an explanation for the late hour or with pleasantries. Once they entered the house, she said, “We’ll need to talk with Megan and Tru as well. Have your people bring them up here.”

  Charlotte stared at her for a brief moment, uncertainty in her eyes. For once, Josie was glad to have the woman off-balance instead of the other way around. “Of course,” Charlotte said, beckoning them into the kitchen where two women were working on a pile of dirty dishes. One washed while the other dried and put them away. “Ladies,” Charlotte said. “Can you please fetch Megan and Tru for me? Bring them back here right now?”

  Without a word, they left. Once the back door closed, Charlotte folded her arms across her chest and raised a brow in Josie’s direction. “What’s going on, my dear? You seem more troubled than usual.”

  Noah said, “Do you know who Renee Kelly is?”

  Charlotte looked at Josie and slowly her composure cracked. She pressed a hand to her mouth. The lines around her eyes and face slackened. Tears glistened. “Something’s happened.”

  Josie took a step closer to her. “Do you know what happened to Renee?”

  Charlotte shook her head.

  Josie said, “Charlotte, now is the time to be honest with us. It’s extremely important that you tell the truth right now.”

  Charlotte pulled her hand away from her mouth. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “What happened to her? Where is she?”

  “She’s dead,” Noah said flatly. “Someone murdered her and dumped her body near the creek last night.”

  “No!” Charlotte’s legs gave way, and she grabbed onto the edge of the counter behind her before she fell. “No. She’s here. She’s in the barn. I saw her last night. She wasn’t feeling well—she—”

  “Someone was hurting her, Charlotte,” Josie said. “Here. On your property. Your ‘sanctuary.’”

  “No,” Charlotte said. “That’s not how it works here.”

  “But that’s what happened,” Noah said. “She had wounds, Mrs. Fadden. Someone had been torturing her for some time.”

  “No,” Charlotte said. “That’s not what happened.”

  Josie asked, “Do you know a man named Michael Donovan?”

  Charlotte looked startled by the change in subject. “What? I don’t know. I don’t think so. Who is he?”

  The back door banged open. Megan and Tru walked into the kitchen, a look of surprise taking over when they saw Charlotte crying.

  Tru said, “What’s going on here?”

  “It’s Renee,” Charlotte told him as he went over to her and put an arm around her shoulders protectively. “She’s been killed.”

  “When?” Megan said. “How?” She looked back and forth between Josie and Noah. “You’re mistaken. Have you checked the barn? She’s been in her stall for days. Her stomach has been bothering her. I gave her an antacid, but it didn’t do much good.”

  “She’s not in the barn,” Josie said. “When’s the last time you saw her?”

  “Last night,” Megan said. “After you and your colleague left.”

  “What time?” Noah asked.

  “Oh, I couldn’t say. We don’t have clocks here.”

  Josie looked at Tru. “You were with her. How long did you stay with her?”

  Tru said, “I don’t know. A few hours after you left? I was worried about her. She didn’t seem right.”

  “Were you sleeping with her?” Noah asked him.

  Tru’s head reared back. Charlotte looked at his face. “Tru?”

  “What? No. We were just friends. I mean, I liked her, but it wasn’t like that. I was just, I was worried, and she asked me if I could sleep next to her cot.”

  So, he had been guarding her but not because Charlotte or someone else had ordered him to do so.

  “Did you?” Josie asked. “Sleep next to her cot?”

  Tru nodded.

  “Did she leave the barn at any time during the night?”

  “Well, yeah. I woke up at some point and she wasn’t there. I just thought she went to the bathroom or to find Megan.”

  Noah turned toward Megan. “Did Renee come
find you last night?”

  “No,” Megan answered. “I checked on her before I went back to my tent for the night.”

  “Where’s the nearest bathroom to Renee’s stall?” Josie asked.

  “There’s an outhouse behind the barn,” Tru said.

  “Did you check there?”

  “Well, no. I—I figured, you know, if she didn’t feel well, she wouldn’t want people knocking on the bathroom door. I just figured she would come back when she was finished. Then I—I fell back to sleep.”

  “She wasn’t in her cot when you woke up, was she?” Josie asked.

  “No. I don’t know where she went. I asked around but no one had seen her. Then I had to get to work in the greenhouse. With all the rain, part of it flooded and so a bunch of us went over there to try to get that in order. We need the food for the winter, you know?”

  Josie said, “We need to talk to every person here. Again.”

  Charlotte’s head fell onto Tru’s shoulder. “Of course,” she said.

  Thirty-Three

  This time, they set up shop in the parlor area of the house, questioning each and every Sanctuary member one at a time without anyone else present. Two other people had seen Renee leave her stall the night before, although they couldn’t say what time, of course. No one thought it unusual that she would leave her sleeping quarters in the middle of the night. There were no rules in place about comings and goings, and plenty of the rest of them used the facilities during any given night.

  Four other members confirmed that Tru and Renee had become friends since Renee’s arrival two months after Tru. No one seemed to think they were intimate. None of them could think of anyone else Renee spent a lot of time with—or they could but they weren’t willing to tell Josie. She had the sense that several of them were lying, but she couldn’t say what they lied about. They brought Tru in last to interview him without Charlotte’s—or anyone else’s—presence, and his earnest assertion that his relationship with Renee had been platonic seemed truthful.