Their Frozen Graves: A completely addictive crime thriller and mystery novel

by Choudhary, Ruhi

  “Oh.” Jasmine took a quivering breath. “Must have gone sour.”

  “With who? Was there some angry client in the picture?”

  “I don’t know exactly. We didn’t talk much. And there are always some hot-headed dudes, but she left because she said she found a long-term placement with a client.”

  “Did she tell you his name?” Nick pushed. “Leave an address?”

  “No. All I know is that she said someone wanted to keep her long-term. That’s why she was moving out. I was kind of jealous. I tried finding out who but never did. She was secretive about it.”

  Someone had placed an advertisement, searching for a girl who looked like Katy/Kim. Robbie had found Bella and delivered her to that person, by dropping her off at Woodburn Park. Bella must have imagined that she would make good money. And maybe she was. But then why did he kill her? Was that his plan all along?

  “Do you know Robbie Elfman?” Mackenzie asked.

  “Never heard of him. Was that the client?”

  “We don’t know. Did you find it strange that she was going away to be with someone?”

  “Not at all,” Jasmine snorted. “You see everything in our business. Hasn’t happened to me, but sometimes someone wants you for more than just a night. And honestly, I would have gone too if I were in her place. Bad luck that the guy turned out to be a psycho.”

  “She was troubled, right? Into drugs?” Mackenzie asked.

  Jasmine’s eyes flitted between them, like she was contemplating her answer. “She was using heroin. It’s common.”

  Mackenzie took out her cell and pulled up a picture of the tattoos on the inside of Bella’s knees. The jumbled letters and numbers that didn’t seem to mean anything. She showed the picture to Jasmine. “Bella got these tattoos. Do you know what they mean?”

  Jasmine frowned at the phone. “No way…”

  A burst of energy shot through Mackenzie. Maybe Jasmine knew what they meant. Maybe it was a clue.

  “That can’t be her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Bella was allergic to tattoo ink.” Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Last year, we went to get tattoos together, and she had a bad reaction when they did a test spot. I had to take her to the hospital. Hives all over her skin. The doctor told her to stay away from tattoo ink. Something about the metal in it.”

  A frown marred Nick’s face. Mackenzie knew the questions flying through his head. How was that possible? Had Robbie given them the wrong name to throw them off? Was there a chance that their victim wasn’t Bella Fox?

  “Could Bella have been forced into getting a tattoo?” Mackenzie whispered to Nick.

  “If she had a reaction bad enough to go to the hospital, I don’t think anyone would force it on her. It would draw more attention.” Nick put on latex gloves and turned to Jasmine. “Do you still have her stuff?”

  “I threw out most of her crap she left behind the day after she moved out. I think there might be some stuff left in the dresser.” She guided them to Bella’s old bedroom and opened the drawer of a scruffy dresser with a cracked mirror. There were a few earrings, a comb, a razor, and a toothbrush. Nick picked up the toothbrush and placed it in a plastic bag. “Let’s get Becky to do a DNA match with the body.”

  On their way out, Mackenzie showed Jasmine a picture of Katy. “Ever seen her before? Or her and Bella together?”

  “Huh,” Jasmine’s eyes widened. “I haven’t, but are they related? They look so similar.”

  Mackenzie sighed. “You have no idea.”

  Thirty-Five

  December 2

  The next morning icy winds blew through Lakemore and snowflakes danced in the air, impairing Mackenzie’s ability to drive confidently. Through the windshield, all she could see was swirling white with a splinter of light weaving through gray clouds. Many welcomed the change from the usual drizzle, but heavy snowfall was the last thing the detectives needed in the search for Kim Harris.

  The patrol that was searching Woodburn Park had moved to the woods where Ben Harlan’s property was located. Since Katy’s phone had last been active in that region, and it was assumed that Kim had had the phone in her possession, Lakemore PD deemed it fit to give those woods priority. Mackenzie would have liked to continue the search of Woodburn at the same time, but Sully had sourly reminded her that they didn’t have the resources.

  “I agree the other woods get priority, but I still want some officers combing through Woodburn.”

  “Mack, this isn’t the FBI or a big city like Seattle. We don’t have enough resources. And we don’t even know exactly what we’re looking for in there.”

  “Surely there’s something you can do? We need to find Kim ASAP.”

  “I can’t magic up money, Mack. There are other departments and squads too. Let the patrol finish searching through the woods first. Then they can move back to Woodburn. That’s the best you’re going to get.”

  The patrol had almost finished searching, but still there was no sign of Kim. Apart from the phone, it was like she was never there. It made searching Woodburn Park even more urgent, but the weather was their enemy.

  Meanwhile, they were left with several questions only Kim could answer. Why had she and Katy swapped places? What was her connection to Bella? Mackenzie thought of Charlotte’s conviction that Kim had been born evil. Mackenzie didn’t really believe in evil, but she could understand jealousy and revenge. Had that driven Kim to kill her sister?

  Mackenzie pulled up in front of the station and jogged inside, late for an important meeting. The team was already working on a Sunday, so she didn’t want to keep them waiting. Sergeant Curtis, who headed the Special Investigations Unit, had decided to spare Andrea temporarily to help Clint with Robbie Elfman’s laptop. Having to deal with prostitution rings and narcotics, that unit had more experience with the dark web than the Detectives Unit. Apparently, Clint and Andrea had some news to share.

  Mackenzie dusted off the snow lodged in her hair and took her seat. Clint, the tallest person in Lakemore PD, had a slim face and the neck of a giraffe. “Is anyone else going to join us?”

  Mackenzie looked around—Nick, Justin, Sully, and Andrea. She wondered if he was referring to Lieutenant Rivera, but caught him looking through the glass wall to the hallway.

  Captain Murphy walked past the conference room lazily with a toothpick in his mouth.

  “This case doesn’t involve rich men of the town.” Nick flashed everyone a sarcastic smile.

  “I would reprimand you, but he is a useless sack,” Sully admitted in a rare moment of honesty. There were budget sheets spread in front of him as he strived to multitask. “I spoke to him five minutes ago—he thinks he left his credit card in his office on Friday, that’s why he’s here.”

  There were repressed snorts of laughter round the room.

  “What do you guys have?” Mackenzie asked, getting them back on topic.

  “Robbie Elfman used a website where people put out ads looking for illegal stuff to buy and sell. Kind of like a dark-web version of eBay,” Andrea explained. “It’s mostly for drugs like cocaine, flakka, LSD, meth. But there are some ads looking for prostitutes into some specific kink. Once you respond to the ad, you can chat with the person who put out the ad and work out the details. The website either hides or erases the chat.”

  “So we don’t know who Robbie was talking to?” Nick asked.

  “No,” Andrea confirmed. “We couldn’t find any information on the account that put out the ad. There are ways to go about it, but it will take much longer, and I can’t guarantee results. That’s the risk with the dark web.”

  “But you said you have something?

  “Yes.” Clint passed around a folder to everyone in the room. “We found more ads like the one Robbie answered, buried on that website. Based on the content and language, we’re certain it was posted by the same person.”

  Mackenzie opened the file. There were copies of the ads printed out.

  There
were five in total.

  Three had been posted between February 2014 and August 2015, each showing the face of a different woman and the tagline, “Looking for a woman who looks like her and wants a fresh start in life.” Mackenzie didn’t recognize any of the women until she came to the fourth one, from December 2017: Katy Becker—the one that Robbie had come across and responded to in May 2018.

  And there was a fifth advertisement. It had been taken out just four months before, for yet another woman.

  Andrea blew on the lens of her glasses.

  Tires screeched as a car passed by outside.

  The electric heater whirred.

  “What the hell is this?” Mackenzie whispered.

  A different woman’s face, but the same information every time. Each one promised a better life: personal coaching, rehabilitation, and, most chillingly, a whole new identity. The first ad made specific reference to a woman “in Seattle or the surrounding area,” but that had been cut from the subsequent posts.

  “Robbie supplied Bella—for now we’re assuming she is Bella, though Becky is going to do a DNA test—who then underwent surgery to look even more like Katy. Almost a replica, I’d say. If you look from afar,” Mackenzie said. “And there’s been another ad since.” She looked at the one taken out in July, with the picture of another beautiful woman smiling at the camera. “Does each new ad mean that he got his doppelganger?”

  “If he did, then where are these other women now?” Nick asked. “And how does Sully’s old suicide fit in? How long has he been doing this?”

  “We have to track down the women featured in the ads. They might need to be warned.”

  “We moved Mack’s grandmother from New York to a retirement home here a few years ago,” Sterling told Robert over dinner later that night.

  Mackenzie rolled her eyes and took another sip of wine, ignoring Sterling’s wary glance.

  “I’d never had the opportunity to meet Eleanor,” Robert confessed.

  She paused. “What?”

  She didn’t remember her grandmother visiting them in Lakemore, but she found it odd that Eleanor never met the man Melody had married and had a child with.

  “She was against us because of my… addiction.” Robert turned red. “For a long time, Mel was estranged from her mother. They reconnected soon after Micky was born, but Eleanor hated my guts.”

  Mackenzie remembered Eleanor’s disgusted face whenever she spoke of Robert. She’d also eavesdropped on Eleanor chiding Melody over the phone for staying in Lakemore to supposedly look for Robert.

  He’s not worth it. Come to New York.

  “How was Eleanor?” Robert asked.

  “She was the strongest woman I knew. She had several rounds of chemo, but she was always there for me.”

  Robert looked down at his food, embarrassed. The rest of the dinner was mostly spent with Sterling and Robert talking about mundane things. When they were done, Robert insisted on rinsing the dishes and loading the dishwasher.

  Mackenzie watched her aging father’s hunched back, working sincerely. She was still convinced he was hiding something. But her diligent spying on his phone had yielded nothing suspicious.

  Could someone actually change? Was he a different person now?

  “Mack, I’m going to leave,” Sterling said from the door. “See you tomorrow?”

  “No.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  She dropped her voice. “You were coming for dinner because you thought he was dangerous and you wanted to show him that I have backup. I don’t think that’s necessary anymore.”

  “You trust him because you shared a few nice meals together?” Sterling was incredulous.

  “No. But you’ve made your point. I don’t think he’s going to murder me in my sleep.”

  Sterling looked distraught, but then he cracked a grin, pointing at a dent in the wall. “Do you remember when we got back from our honeymoon, and you tricked me into thinking that someone was in the house?”

  Mackenzie couldn’t help smiling at the memory. She had pushed Sterling out of bed, thrust a baseball bat in his hands and ushered him away. “And when I jumped you, you squeaked like a mouse and ruined my wall.”

  “Not like a mouse.”

  Her fingers grazed the little dimple in the wall, their laughter still ringing in her ears. Spending time with Sterling again had left her feeling conflicted. Being in Robert’s company, they never talked about their problems. It was like the good old days. But just when she felt like she was slipping—due to nostalgia and loneliness—the reminder of what he’d done would crash into her.

  “You should go, Sterling. Goodnight.” She choked back sudden tears, closing the door behind him.

  “Micky?” Robert asked, returning to the living room. “Do you want to watch The Princess Bride? It used to be your favorite.”

  “I have work to do…”

  He gave her a disappointed smile and turned away to go to bed.

  “Wait,” she said almost reluctantly. “I can work downstairs. Put the movie on.”

  This time his smile reached his eyes. Mackenzie let out a breath and tried to loosen the knot in her chest. She just needed to take it one day at a time.

  Thirty-Six

  December 3

  Mackenzie dialed the number for Detective Ethan Spitz, one of her few contacts in the Seattle PD. They had worked together two years ago when there had been a trail of bodies starting from Seattle and ending in Lakemore. She felt comfortable speaking to him, trusting his technique and an instinct that matched her own. He also had ten years of experience over her. She had learned a lot from him.

  “Spitz.” His rich baritone reverberated, with the hum of an engine in the background.

  “Ethan, this is Mackenzie Price. Is this a bad time?”

  “Oh, hey, Mack. Haven’t heard from you in a while. More bodies?” His laugh was grating.

  She folded her lips over her teeth and chuckled. “It’s not what you think. This is kind of an odd one.”

  “Wait. Hold on.” She heard him swerve. “I’m back. What do you have?”

  “I’m emailing you some information.” She typed deftly on her computer. “Still carrying your laptop on you?”

  “Always.” Sounds of scuffling and movement. “What is this?”

  “Advertisements taken out on the dark web. The second to last has two bodies tied to it here, and a missing person, but the first mentions Seattle specifically. I’m hoping our killer was keeping things really local, but I need your input now.”

  “Sounds like a real bastard. What do the ads say?”

  Mackenzie explained the situation to him. The medical procedures, the murders. The sixteen-year-old suicide that was somehow connected. How they had a lot of questions, and not a lot of answers. Through the phone, she could almost hear the wheels whirring in his brain. “Could you cross-reference the photos I’ve sent with missing women who fit the profile? Young women addicted to drugs?”

  He sighed. “It’s a big city. We have a lot of missing cases. And if these women are from the wrong side of the tracks then they might not even be reported missing.”

  Like Bella.

  “Can you still check?”

  “Of course. I’m already on it. I’ll call you back.”

  Mackenzie smiled to herself. The fifty-year-old veteran had a sense of urgency that she admired. All the years in the force hadn’t tired him; Spitz was still as keen as any police officer on their first day of the job. He called her back half an hour later.

  “Okay, I think I got one. Our case is Tamara Wilson. She’s been missing for almost two years. She’s a prostitute and was a heroin user. Looks like the African American woman in one of your ads.”

  “Any progress made on the case? Any suspects?”

  “Not yet. Like I said, it’s common for prostitutes to go missing in a city this size and damn near impossible to get people to talk. But let me speak to the squad. We have new information now. Might find some
thing.”

  After working out more details, Mackenzie hung up, feeling slightly more optimistic. It sounded like Tamara was a good match for one of the missing women, and she trusted Spitz to look into the others.

  Mackenzie accessed Washington State Patrol’s missing person database and pulled out the information of the four missing women in Lakemore in the last six months. She had gone over them before when trying to identify Bella, but now there was a possibility they were linked to the latest ad.

  Nick joined her, and they studied the ad. It featured a woman with red hair like Mackenzie’s, a long face, and pale skin. She was attractive, but nothing stood out about her. They compared her to the missing women.

  “Well, it’s not this one.” She indicated one woman, who looked significantly older than the redhead.

  “Maybe with a bit of Botox, though? Imagine her younger—their bone structure is similar,” Nick offered. “What about that one?”

  “The blonde?”

  “Yeah, Bella was a blonde but she dyed her hair. Wouldn’t they look similar if she dyed her hair too?”

  Mackenzie tried picturing the woman’s face with a different hair color. “I guess… Okay, we can remove this one.” She pointed at one of the pictures. “She’s mixed race, looks too different.”

  “Yeah.” Nick scratched his head. “But any of these remaining three women could be a potential doppelganger?”

  Mackenzie tapped her finger on the mouse, staring at the screen. The three missing women looked somewhat similar to the woman in the latest ad, but not exactly. “We should ask Dr. Preston. Maybe he can point us in the right direction. I could see all of them looking a lot like her if they got some work done.”

  “Good idea. We need an expert’s eye. I’ll call him.”

  While Nick made the phone call, Mackenzie’s attention wandered over to Finn’s empty cubicle. She recalled the heartbroken mother whose young daughter had run away, and picked up her phone.

  Finn answered after two rings. “Mack?”