Dead, Without a Stone to Tell It

by Jen J. Danna

  “You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” Leigh’s tone implied that it was anything but.

  Matt pointed to his silent students who now stood nearby, clustered around Kiko’s grave. “We’re going to put in another hour or two today. Now that you’ve seen what we’re up against, we’ll pair up on two of the graves and really start the excavation. We’ll cover everything overnight and just pick it up again first thing in the morning.”

  Leigh frowned. “I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get here tomorrow.”

  “Come when you can but don’t worry about us here. You’ve got enough on your plate without worrying about this too.”

  “And no time to do it in.” She suppressed the urge to check the time again. “I have to go. I’ll make calls from the car so that everyone is in the loop but I’m still cutting it fine for time.” She started for the trees only to stop when Matt called her name.

  “Good luck tonight.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a half-smile that came out more like a grimace, and pushed her way into the foliage, heading back toward the mainland.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: TIDAL FLUSHING

  Tidal Flushing: the process of seawater washing through an estuary twice daily at high tide, restoring salinity levels and nutrients and removing toxins.

  Wednesday, 6:45 P.M.

  Lowell residence

  Brookline, Massachusetts

  Matt accidentally slammed the front door closed with enough force to rattle the flanking leaded-glass sidelights. He quickly toed off his muddy boots, glancing down the hall toward the family room, his father’s preferred spot to relax at this time of night. Deserted. His shoulders relaxed fractionally. He’d be able to get cleaned up before his father saw him like—

  “Matt! What happened?”

  Damn. He swiveled to find his father rolling through the kitchen doorway. He held up a hand. “I’m okay.”

  “You look like you’ve been through a war.” Mike rolled up to stop only feet from his son, his eyes fixed on his blood soaked sleeve. “And you’re hurt. What happened?”

  Matt’s shoulders sagged. He’d wanted to avoid this until he’d had a chance to clean up and get off his feet. “I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version for now because I’m filthy and would kill for a shower. When we got out to the marsh, we interrupted some guy burying a fresh murder victim.” He ignored his father’s exclamation and continued. “There was a firefight. I got winged.” He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the white bandage. “It’s just a graze. Bled like a stuck pig and burns like hell, but it’s not serious. Leigh called in paramedics and made me get it treated on site.”

  “I’m beginning to like this Leigh.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Matt protested. “I would know. Anyway, I’ll explain more fully, but let me get out of these clothes first.” He glanced at his watch. “Leigh’s got a live press conference in just over ten minutes that I’d really like to see. Then I’ll answer all your questions, I promise.”

  “It’s so bad that they need a press conference?” Mike shook his head as Matt started to explain. “You’re squeezed for time. Go shower and we’ll talk later. What channel will it be on?”

  “WKAC should be covering it. Back in a few.” Matt took the stairs two at a time, heading for the master bedroom.

  Minutes later, he was striding toward the family room in bare feet and faded jeans, pulling a navy T-shirt over his damp hair. His father had the big screen TV on across the room, the volume muted. He circled the wheelchair and dropped in an exhausted heap on the couch. Teak got up from the floor and followed Matt, leaping up after him. The dog immediately started pushing his nose against Matt’s left shoulder. Matt gave him a good-natured shove in return. “Sit down, Teak. No one wants your wet nose down the back of their neck.”

  Teak flopped onto the couch, laying his muzzle on Matt’s thigh and staring up at him from under a heavy eyebrow. Matt absently dropped one hand onto the thick, ruddy-brown coat, rhythmically stroking his fingers through it. The dog sighed deeply in pleasure.

  “You’re just in time,” Mike said. “They’re starting now.” Reaching over for the remote, he turned up the volume.

  The words “Special Report” stretched across the bottom of the screen. A small group of people were standing in front of a jostling crowd of media personnel. Matt searched for Leigh’s now familiar face. He found her quickly, standing in the back row beside a tall man with neatly cut gray hair wearing a navy suit. Detective Lieutenant Harper?

  Leigh was dressed in a mannish suit similar to the one she wore the first time they met, her hair once again neatly knotted at the nape of her neck. She dresses like a man when she’s on the job as a way to fit in, Matt realized. He’d never considered how hard it was to be a woman in what was likely an overwhelmingly masculine vocation, especially in the homicide division. But today’s stresses left him with an inkling of the challenges she faced every day in her chosen career.

  His father’s voice broke into his musings. “That’s your lady cop on the left? In the black suit?”

  “Yeah, that’s Leigh. And she’s not ‘my lady cop.’ ”

  “Pretty,” Mike commented lightly.

  Matt’s head slowly swiveled to stare at his father. “Do not start in on my love life again.”

  “How can I?” Mike retorted. “You don’t have one.”

  Matt sent him a mock glare and turned back to the TV.

  A woman in a burgundy suit stepped forward to speak. Her tone was calm and straightforward and she clearly was comfortable dealing with the media. “Good evening. I’m Sharon Collins, Press Officer for District Attorney Aaron Saxon. I will be making a statement and then I will take a few questions. Earlier today, several sets of human remains were discovered in a coastal area on the outskirts of the Town of Essex. In addition, the body of a recent homicide victim was also discovered. Detective Lieutenant Harper of the Massachusetts State Police has assigned Trooper First Class Leigh Abbott of the Essex Detective Unit to lead the case. Trooper Abbott is working closely with both the District Attorney’s Office and the local Essex police force in this matter. The most recent victim has been tentatively identified but a name will not be released pending confirmation and notification of the family. We do not perceive any immediate danger to the public at large, but, as always, we encourage you to lock your doors and be aware of your surroundings at all times. Details are limited at this time, but the investigation is ongoing and we will release new details as they become available. I will now take a few questions.”

  A cacophony of raised voices exploded around her, yet she remained unruffled. As she called for the first questions, Matt’s gaze moved to Leigh. He sat up abruptly, leaning forward. “Look at that.”

  Mike glanced from the TV to Matt and back again. “Look at what?”

  “At Leigh. Look at her watching the crowd. Damn, I wish I’d gone to this. I could have been helping her.”

  Mike leaned forward, squinting at the screen. “Helping her with what?”

  “She’s looking for the guy who shot at us today. She must have realized there’d be a chance he’d show up at the press conference to bask in his own glory.”

  Ms. Collins fielded another question from someone off camera. “You said that there were several sets of remains. Is this the work of a serial killer?”

  “At this point we can’t rule out that possibility. You, in the blue jacket.”

  “Are there any suspects?”

  “The suspect was interrupted on scene and a confrontation occurred between him and Trooper Abbott. All leads from this incident are being examined and the investigation is ongoing.” More questions were shouted, but she calmly closed down the press conference. “Thank you very much for your time, ladies and gentlemen. We will let you know as soon as there are any new breaks in the investigation.” The feed immediately cut to an anchor sitting behind a desk.

  “She said it was only going to be minimal details. She wasn’t kidding.” Mat
t reached over and picked up the remote, muting the TV before swiveling to face his father. “Okay, the real story. What they reported is accurate. When we got there this morning, we interrupted the guy digging the grave of his latest victim.”

  “So you’re looking at related deaths then? This new victim and your remains?”

  “And then some. I’ll get to that. When he heard us coming, he opened fire. But he probably wasn’t prepared for return fire.”

  “I guess it was a good thing that you had the Glock then.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And to think that you were questioning your gut. You should know better than that.”

  “Subtle ‘I told you so,’ Dad.”

  “Just making a point. Now, the press officer said that Trooper Abbott was involved in a confrontation with him. But if you were there, were the kids there too?”

  “Yes, but they’re okay. They hit the dirt pretty fast when the bullets started flying. I was the only one who got hit. Anyway, Leigh and I split up and went after him.” At his father’s upraised eyebrows, he said, “She’s damned sharp. She figured out pretty fast that I knew my way around a firefight. And she used it to our advantage.” He pushed his damp hair back from his forehead. “It was like stepping back in time. You get into a situation and you just react. You don’t have time to think. Anyway, the guy escaped into the marsh where he had a boat moored on a branch of the Essex River. Crime Scene Services arrived later on to collect evidence for this fresh victim and they stumbled across a new burial ground north of where we’d searched, so suddenly we now have a third crime scene. We would have found it this morning ourselves if we’d kept going, but we got a little sidetracked.”

  “Just a little. Do you have an idea as to how many victims you’ve got?”

  “Our current best estimate is at least eight victims in total.” He refrained from smiling at his father’s almost comical expression of shock; he empathized with his reaction. “The state police brought in a cadaver dog, confirming the currently identified graves are the only ones in the area. But I suspect they are all double graves. I hope that’s the worst they are.”

  Mike sat back in his chair as he considered the details. “Two bodies buried at once? So he had to carry two bodies through the marsh from the boat and then bury them?” He met his son’s eyes. “What if someone comes across the boat with the second body while he’s moving the first one to the burial site? And then why only one body at the grave you just excavated and only one body at this newest grave? Why not two?”

  “All excellent questions. There’s still a lot to figure out, but the first thing to do is to recover those remains, which will take a few days. Considering what’s at stake here, we need to be very careful about recovering all of the evidence.”

  “Because he’s still out there and he’s still killing.”

  “Clearly.” Pushing off from the couch, Matt rose. “How about some dinner? Did you eat?”

  “No, I was waiting for you. Teak’s the only one who’s eaten.”

  “He’s a bottomless pit. He can always eat again.” Matt leaned over and ruffled the dog’s ear affectionately. “Give me five minutes. I want to call Leigh and touch base about what they said tonight about a victim ID. How about we grill some burgers after that? I’m starved.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll start pulling things out and get the grill going while you make that call. Will you still have time to take Teak out?”

  “Later tonight. A run would do me good too. Burn off some of this excess energy.” Matt strode down the hallway and picked up his cell phone from a shallow wooden bowl on the table in the entry hall. Glancing back down the hallway, he changed direction and opened the front door, stepping out into the cooling autumn evening and closing the door softly behind him.

  He paused in the slowly fading light of the day, simply absorbing the peace of day’s end. He wished he could be out on the Charles; some of his most centered moments came when it was just him and the boat out on the open water, man against nature. The excavations were going to be long and wearing, and he suspected a good hard row would be the best way to work off some of the tension.

  He crossed the wooden floor of the porch to sit on the top step. He dialed Leigh’s number from memory and then relaxed comfortably against the porch pillar, crossing his ankles.

  “Leigh Abbott.”

  “Leigh, it’s Matt.”

  There was a pause and Matt could hear someone talking in the background. Then, “Hold on a moment, please.” Matt heard muffled speaking and then the sound of heels on pavement before Leigh came back on the line. “Sorry, I was trying to get free from the press conference. Thanks for giving me an out.”

  “My pleasure. I caught the broadcast. You weren’t kidding about it being bare bones.”

  “That’s about all we can say. We can’t allow any information getting out that might compromise the investigation.”

  “You didn’t mention anything about a victim ID earlier today.”

  “Sorry, I meant to tell you earlier but you derailed me with your updated body count. The woman we found this morning had a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder blade that matched one of the missing person reports I’d collected. Rowe has requested dental x-rays from her practitioner and we’ll be getting them first thing tomorrow morning for confirmation, but we’re both pretty certain we have the right woman. If so, her name is Tracy Kingston.”

  “That fell into place quickly.”

  “Sometimes you get lucky. Most of the time you don’t, so it’s nice when it happens. But there was something else we found at the autopsy. It’s a mark, potentially a signature, on her chest.”

  Matt jerked upright on the step. “A signature? What was it?”

  “It’s some kind of symbol, carved into the flesh just above the left breast. I think it’s Asian in nature, but it could be Chinese, Japanese, Korean, or Vietnamese. I’m looking into it.”

  “I could put you in touch with someone in linguistics at the university. Maybe they could help.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “So … did you see him in the crowd?”

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “Caught that, did you?”

  “I’m a scientist. Observing is what we do. Sometimes the most important details can be buried in the minutia. Was he there?”

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t see anyone who set off alarm bells for me.”

  “Damn.”

  “My bet is he’s too careful to make a mistake like that. He probably just watched the press conference on TV.” There was a brief pause, then, “Matt, I have to go. Detective Lieutenant Harper wanted to have a word with me before he heads back to Salem and it looks like he’s getting ready to go now.”

  “Go. We’ll be on site first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll see you whenever you can get there.”

  “If we get ID confirmation then I need to inform next of kin tomorrow, but I’ll come up to the site later on. I’ll see you then.” She ended the call.

  Matt set his phone on the step beside him. He gave himself a moment to enjoy the fresh air and the peace of the deepening dusk.

  He would need all the fortitude he could muster for the coming days.

  Refreshed and somewhat recharged, he rose from the porch and went inside to share a meal with his family.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: FAMILY

  Family: an interrelated group of animals living in a community. Monogamous Sandhill Crane pairs return annually to the same nesting ground in the marsh to raise their young, and migrate as a family unit in the fall.

  Thursday, 9:51 A.M.

  Kingston residence

  Topsfield, Massachusetts

  With dragging steps, Leigh forced herself to march up the front walk of Tracy Kingston’s parents’ home.

  She hated this part of the job more than any other. Hated seeing that moment where hope flared in the eyes of loved ones when they thought she arrived with good news. Hated even more seeing that
hope wither away to a blank stare of confusion and pain when she delivered the news that someone they loved would never come home again.

  Ignoring the knot forming in her stomach, she took a deep breath and knocked sharply on the front door. She heard slow footsteps inside the house and then the door opened to reveal an older woman with short, curling silver hair. Harsh lines of worry formed deep grooves around her eyes and mouth, betraying each of her seven decades.

  Leigh extended her badge toward the woman. “Mrs. Kingston? I’m Trooper Leigh Abbott of the Massachusetts State Police. May I come in?”

  Mrs. Kingston lost what little color she had. “Kevin?” Her voice rose stridently. “Kevin, the police are here.”

  A slightly balding older man instantly appeared at the door to the living room. He was dressed casually in a navy cardigan and leather slippers, and had a comfortably worn air about him.

  Leigh stepped through the open doorway. “Mr. Kingston, I’m Trooper Leigh Abbott …” For just the briefest of instants, she hesitated as knowledge and understanding shone in the old man’s eyes, eclipsed by bone-deep sorrow. He knows she’s gone.

  “Do you have news about Tracy? Have you found Tracy?” Mrs. Kingston’s hands twisted together, unconsciously wringing in agitation. “We’ve called the police several times. They’re very nice, but they haven’t been able to tell us anything.”

  “Could we sit down for a moment, ma’am?”

  But it was as if the woman hadn’t heard Leigh speak. “Something must be terribly wrong. It’s not like Tracy to go away like this and not tell us. She calls us every night, but we haven’t heard from her since last Thursday. If she had a sick friend and had to go away she would have told us. And they haven’t heard from her at the college either—”

  “Dorothy.” Mr. Kingston cut in gently. “You’re not letting the officer talk.” He put an arm around his wife, deftly steering her into the living room. “Let’s sit down.”