Haven of Swans

by Colleen Coble

  “I’ll send someone to the bar. It’s down by the water,” Cyril said.

  The investigators arrived and talked in low tones while they took blood samples and gathered evidence. Nick had never imagined this familiar scene would be played out in his own home. Eve’s home, he corrected himself. She’d kicked him out months ago.

  Fraser came in and stuck his thumb in the air. “The coordinates are for here.”

  Cyril scratched his head. “Okay, stay with me here a minute. The killer is using religious verses, but not from any one text. The first was the Koran. This is the Apocrypha. He calls himself Gideon. Could mean nothing, but that’s one of the big-shot judges from the Old Testament. Think it’s a missionary killer?”

  “They usually target prostitutes or homeless people,” Nick said. “Why Eve?”

  “That’s what we have to find out. We need to start digging into Eve’s past, and this other woman’s as soon as we get her identified. Sorry, Nick.”

  Nick nodded without meeting his father’s gaze. No one said anything else. He knew they were all thinking that Eve’s body would be the next one to be found—minus a body part.

  Body parts. “I might have something else,” he said slowly. “Let me get Eve’s Bible and show you.” He went to the bedroom and found her Bible on the nightstand. He flipped to Proverbs and carried it back to the living room. “I saw this on a Google search this morning.”

  “What?” His dad peered over his shoulder. Nick read aloud.

  “These six things the LORD hates,

  Yes, seven are an abomination to Him:

  A proud look,

  A lying tongue,

  Hands that shed innocent blood,

  A heart that devises wicked plans,

  Feet that are swift in running to evil,

  A false witness who speaks lies,

  And one who sows discord among brethren.”

  “You think the floater was the lying tongue?” Fraser asked.

  “Maybe.” Nick wasn’t ready to assume anything. He prayed he was wrong about all of it. “If we find the woman’s identity, let’s try to keep it out of the media as long as possible. Maybe he’ll get more agitated the longer she goes unclaimed. He seems to care about that for some reason.”

  ELENA GOT THE DEPOSIT READY, TURNED OUT ALL the lights, and headed for the door. Anu had left her in charge tonight, so she double-checked to make sure she hadn’t overlooked anything. Had she really been in Rock Harbor for two months? It seemed like only a few days, yet it had been forever as well. She felt as though she’d lived here all her life.

  Terri would be looking for her. Bree’s best friend, Naomi, had invited them to dinner tonight, which would be a nice change of pace. Bree and Kade were coming too. Elena really needed to look for another place to live and quit mooching off the Matthewses, but Bree had insisted that she and Terri stay for now. What she made at the shop wasn’t much.

  Elena wanted to relax, to settle into Rock Harbor, but everything could come tumbling down in a moment. Anu could hear back from the government about that fake Social Security number anytime, or the man who had hurt her could come walking in the door.

  Not that she would recognize him.

  With the door locked behind her, she stepped out into the sunshine. Had she ever realized spring was so glorious? With her lids closed, she lifted her face to the light. A dozen fragrances burst on her senses: flowers, sunshine, cut grass. A smorgasbord of scents. Though she guessed she was in her early thirties, this was the first spring she could remember.

  So many people had welcomed her to Rock Harbor, made her feel a part of the community. Slowly, she was beginning to let down her guard, to think she might be safe here.

  To make a fresh start.

  The sidewalks bustled. A gay-rights group had come to town for the weekend, and the participants had waved banners and made plenty of noise. A magazine was doing a spread on the event, but Elena made sure to stay out of their way. She didn’t want her picture to get out to the media. The wrong person might see it.

  She crossed the street and dropped the deposit off at the bank, then retraced her steps in the direction of Naomi’s home, where she was to meet Bree. Two women with their arms around each other careened into her. “Sorry,” she said, even though it was their fault.

  “Hey, where’s a good place to eat?” the dark-haired woman asked.

  Elena smiled and nodded toward the café. “Have you tried the food at the Suomi? It’s pretty terrific.”

  The redhead returned her smile with a warmth that put Elena’s guard down. “What would you suggest?”

  “You have to try a pasty. Get a beef one. They’re the best in the UP.”

  “We’ll do that.” The redhead’s smile widened, and her gaze shifted past Elena’s shoulder.

  Elena turned in time to see a flash go off. Someone had snapped a picture. He was leaning against a van emblazoned with the name of a Detroit newspaper. “Oh, please, you have to erase that picture.” She ran toward the photographer, a young man with broad shoulders and shoulder-length hair. He lifted the camera above her head when she grabbed at it. “Please, you can’t use that.”

  “Chill, lady. You can barely see your face. I was just getting the town.” He went to his van and got in.

  She ran after him and tried to wrench open his door, but he stared straight ahead, dropped the gearshift into drive, and pulled away. Only by snatching back her hand did she escape being pulled along with him.

  Maybe she was overreacting. Her past might not even be in Detroit. Even if it was, whoever was looking for her might have given up by now. She could only hope. She caged her fear again, squared her shoulders, and started toward Naomi’s. She was making a new life. No one would find her here.

  She stared in fascination at purple phlox spilling down a slope. Were the colors up here brighter and more vivid, or was she simply seeing everything for what felt like the first time? Flowers bloomed along the sidewalks, and wildflowers dotted the countryside on her route to Naomi’s.

  She was so blessed to have this place, to experience this life.

  The children played in the front yard and didn’t notice when she entered the gate. Naomi O’Reilly pulled weeds in the flower bed by the walk. Her baby, Matthew, played with a top on the sidewalk.

  “Hey, girl,” Elena said. “I’m a little early. Need some help?” She put down her purse, squatted beside her friend, and began to tug weeds loose from the soil. The rich scent smelled like home.

  “Thanks.” Naomi swiped at a stray lock of brown hair that hung over one eye. At thirty-three, she was about Elena’s height. Pretty rather than beautiful, her real beauty was in her sprightly attitude. Nothing ever got her down for long.

  Her search dog, Charley, bounded to greet Elena. She rubbed him and kissed his muzzle. “Hey, buddy.” He was a beautiful golden retriever with large, expressive eyes and a sweet soul.

  Naomi gave her a sly smile. “I have a present for you.”

  “For me?”

  Naomi stood and dusted her hands. “Wait here and keep an eye on Matt. He keeps trying to eat the dirt.” She disappeared inside the screen door.

  Elena waved at Terri, who was swinging, then knelt next to the baby. “Hey, little guy.” She opened his tiny fist and dumped the dirt out of his palm. His lips had traces of dirt at the corners when he smiled up at her.

  “Close your eyes,” Naomi called from the other side of the screen door.

  Elena stood and shut her eyes. “Okay,” she called. She heard the screen door squeak, and then a small ball of warm fur was deposited in her arms.

  Her eyes flew open, and she looked down at the most beautiful face she’d ever seen—well, other than Terri’s. A pure white kitten with blue eyes.

  “The neighbor cat had babies,” Naomi said, beaming like a proud grandmother. “Isn’t she darling?”

  “Oh, she’s beautiful.” Elena didn’t think she’d ever been the squealing sort, but a sound very much like on
e came from her lips. The kitten’s tiny pink tongue came out and licked her cheek. Sharp milk teeth nibbled her chin, and Elena laughed.

  A vehicle rumbled behind her, and she turned to see Bree and Kade pulling up in Kade’s truck. Bree waved and leaped from the vehicle as soon as it stopped. “You were supposed to wait until I got here,” she scolded, her teasing gaze going to the kitten.

  “I couldn’t stand it,” Naomi said. “I just gave it to her.”

  “What are you going to name her?” Bree plucked the kitten out of Elena’s arms and held her up in the air. “Oh, you are just adorable.”

  The kitten mewed and struggled. Bree held it against her chest and laughed when it nibbled the neck of her blouse. Samson whined at her legs, and she held the kitty down for him to sniff. His curly tail wagged frantically, and he licked the little white head.

  Elena held out her arms. “Hey, she’s mine. I want her back.” Bree dropped the kitten back into Elena’s arms, and she nuzzled the little fur ball. “What do you think I should call her?”

  Both women stared at the kitten as if contemplating a great mystery. “Gracie,” Bree said. “I think she looks like a Gracie.”

  “I like it.” Elena kissed the fuzzy head. “I could use a little grace in my life.”

  Bree touched her arm. “I had some time to look around on the Internet today. I found an article about you helping some underprivileged kids take dance lessons.”

  “Really?” Elena asked.

  “I checked for a Facebook profile and hit every social media site.”

  “Any idea where we lived?”

  Bree’s nod was vigorous. “In a Detroit suburb. I’ll show you the link when we get home. I bookmarked it.”

  Not that it would help. How much could there be about an obscure dance teacher named Elena Cox? Bree hadn’t even been able to find a phone number. And maybe that was for the best. Elena could settle here, put the evil in her life behind, and start fresh with Terri.

  5

  Anything?” Nick asked his partner. His family had been missing for two months. The constant ups and downs between hope and despair had begun to even out into depression, much as he tried to hang on to the thin strand of possibilities.

  “Nothing new.” Fraser had been checking regularly with police districts up and down Lake Huron. “I don’t get it. This guy likes attention. He notifies us on a site used by thousands of people. If her body was somewhere, wouldn’t he tell us like he did with the first vic? Why is he holding off?”

  “I wish I knew. You can bet he has a plan.”

  Nick’s cell phone rang. He grabbed it, then groaned when he saw his mother’s name on the screen. She’d called every day since Eve and Keri disappeared.

  “Nothing new, Mom,” he said when he answered the phone.

  “Did you sleep last night? I made some kreatopita. Stop by and pick it up.”

  Food was the last thing he wanted, not even his favorite meat pie. He’d been living on coffee and Rolaids. A tone indicated he had another call. “Gotta go, Mom. I’ll call you later.”

  “Nicky—” she started.

  He cut off her voice and answered the other call. “Talk to me.”

  His dad’s voice was grave. “We’ve got another body, Nick. At a geocaching site. Partial peanut butter sandwich too.” He gave Nick the location.

  Nick swallowed. “Eve?”

  “Can’t tell. Animals got to the body, and all we have left are scattered bones. We’ll have to work on identification.”

  “On my way.” Nick hung up and grabbed his jacket. “There’s another one. We gotta go,” he told Fraser.

  They drove out to the location north of the city and parked behind a row of police cars. The spring air held a chill, but it wasn’t the weather that made Nick shudder. Yellow police tape marked off the woods. Forensic detectives had sifted every cubic foot of soil as the bones were slowly retrieved from the area.

  Eve might be in this grave. And Keri. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face the reality, even if it meant closure. He slipped booties on his shoes and stepped over the tape, then approached the men who were intent on their work.

  “Any idea who it is?”

  One of the men glanced up and shook his head. “No identification yet. Clothes are missing. The grave was so shallow that animals got to it. I think the woman was moved here from somewhere else.”

  “Who found it?” Nick asked.

  The guy nodded to two men who stood talking with an officer out by the road. “A couple of geocachers.”

  Same MO. Nick thanked the man and went over to join the men. He flashed his identification. “You found the body?”

  The younger man had his arms clasped around himself. “When can we go home? We’ve been here five hours. My daughter is going to be worried.” The guy looked like some kind of professional. His hunting jacket looked new, and his hair was a sleek cap. Skinny and in his late thirties, he stared Nick down with the assurance of a man used to commanding other people.

  The other man looked about ten years older. Graying hair curled up around the edge of a plaid hunting cap that matched his vest. His beefy arms were crossed over his chest, and he was frowning. “We’ve told you all we know.”

  “Go over it one more time for me,” Nick said.

  The older man’s face reddened and seemed to swell. “Look, we had nothing to do with this. We were just out geocaching. We found the body at the coordinates listed in the computer bank.”

  “How did you find it? Was it partially uncovered?”

  The older man spoke first, earning an annoyed glare from the other guy. “We didn’t see a canister or anything, so we looked a little closer. Most things aren’t buried, but we couldn’t find anything obvious, and Judd saw a freshly dug spot.” The man jabbed a thumb in Judd’s direction. “I had a small shovel, so we dug down a few inches.” He swallowed hard. “We stopped when we saw a bone. That’s when we noticed other bones scattered around above ground. They looked too big to be an animal’s. I already called the police.”

  Nick nodded. “Thanks.” He glanced at the other policeman. “You done with these guys?” The man nodded. The men thanked them and headed toward their truck, a beat-up green Ford.

  Fraser walked over to join him after talking to Cyril. “Think they had anything to do with this?”

  “I doubt it. Any clues on the Web site?” He knew his partner would have checked already.

  “Yeah.” He handed Nick a sheet of yellow lined paper.

  Nick glanced down and read the clue silently. For pride is the beginning of sin, and he that hath it shall pour out abomination: and therefore the Lord brought upon them strange calamities, and overthrew them utterly.

  Pain exploded deep inside. “The same verse left at the house,” he whispered. He sagged against a tree. Nick should have been prepared for this.

  “We don’t know that yet, Nick. It will take awhile to get DNA back.”

  He knew. Nick looked back toward the collected bones. “I’ve got someone who can help us identify her faster.” He dug out his phone . . .

  GREEN GLADE COMMUNITY WAS THE GLORIFIED name for the facility Gideon always thought of as Den of the Zombies. Many of the residents walked around with blank expressions and fixed smiles. Some were violent, and he could imagine them stalking the residents of the nearby town.

  Birds chattered at him from an aviary in the sitting room as he passed. Brightly colored wings flashed by in his peripheral vision, and he paused to watch them a moment.

  “Do you like birds?” A woman in her late twenties with hollow eyes paused long enough to question his scrutiny. “I like to look at them. They don’t even realize there’s a whole world outside. They don’t have to face it.”

  “You don’t have to stay here, you know.”

  Her gaze darted to his face. “It hurts out there.”

  “Pain is good for us. Without it, we would never do anything with our lives.” He indicated the peaceful surroundings with a swe
eping hand. “What is there in here? Food, a bed, no pain. But no life either. No growth. Pain is better than pleasure.”

  “It’s safe here.” She didn’t wait for an answer but wandered off, her slippers making scuffing sounds along the tile.

  Gideon shook his head and continued down the hall. Stupid sheep without a shepherd. Miranda was lucky to have him, to be spared from the same fate.

  He pushed open her door and stepped into the room filled with flowers. His monthly Visa bill reflected the cost of these weekly arrivals of carnations. Pink ones, her favorite.

  “Hello, Miranda,” he said.

  She kept her face averted like she always did. Not that it mattered, since he couldn’t bear to look at her destroyed beauty. Though she hadn’t spoken a word in ten years, her body language screamed of despair.

  The doctors called it a catatonic state. He knew she’d just given up. Her pain had lasted long enough. It was time for her to rediscover life. He would give her a reason to live, and she would turn her blue eyes on him and really see him again. She would know all he’d done for her, all he would give up for her.

  She would finally love him again.

  “You’ll have a new face soon, Miranda. I promise,” he whispered, adjusting the pink lace shawl around her shoulders. “I’ll be able to see you as you really are.”

  He’d tried harvesting a few faces after the one he wanted had escaped, but none of them had worked out quite right. Only one face would be perfect, and he would find her again soon.

  “HOW LONG BEFORE YOU HAVE A BUST TO SHOW the media?” Nick rubbed his burning eyes and watched Oliver Harding press clay onto the cast of the skull they’d found five days earlier. The forensic sculptor was one of the best in the country. Police departments as far away as California had flown Oliver in to help identify remains.

  The man could have been a shoo-in for a most realistic Santa Claus if he were about fifty pounds heavier. Nick guessed Oliver’s age as forty or so, though he’d grayed early. His rosy cheeks and ready smile had children ready to climb into his lap and ask for a bike for Christmas.