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

by Choudhary, Ruhi

  “Can’t believe this was a bust,” Nick sighed. “Maybe we’ll find something on the property. An underground bunker even? Can’t put anything past him.”

  “We should check out neighboring counties,” Ethan replied. “He could be hiding them somewhere else.”

  Mackenzie continued staring at the mirror. The property had looked bigger from the outside. She had been expecting bigger rooms. The office was well lit, almost too bright. She looked up. All lights were pointed at the mirror, illuminating the room even more.

  “That’s a neat trick.” She sounded unsure, even to herself.

  “What is?” Nick came to her side.

  She peered intently at the hairline seam between two of the panels. “That’s a hinge.”

  Mackenzie hooked her finger into the gap where the mirror met the side wall and swung it back. It was covering a glass wall looking into darkness. They could only see their own reflection. Again.

  “What the hell is this about?” Mackenzie said.

  “There’s a switch here.” Ethan flipped it.

  Light flooded the other side of the glass.

  Mackenzie staggered backward, gasping.

  Four women chained to the wall. Their eyes were large and teary. Their bodies writhed and twisted wildly against their constraints. Their lips were parted as screams escaped their throats, but no sound came. It was deadly silent on this side of the glass.

  “Oh my God,” Mackenzie whispered, a chill running down her spine. The room on the other side was smaller than the office, and the walls were dark, giving it the appearance of a box. The only source of light and fresh air was a clerestory window.

  “There must be a door!” Ethan cried.

  “Not here,” Nick said.

  The women’s arms and necks were covered in blood and bruises. Some fresh and others healed. But their faces were perfect—unblemished if not for the palpable fear and streaming tears.

  She recognized Alison Gable on the far left. Her hair was cut and dyed differently to the picture they had of her. Her face had some scarring, transformed slightly into someone else’s. Then there was an African American woman next to her, matching the description of the woman from Seattle. The other two women resembled the women from the other ads.

  One woman didn’t move. She stayed put, watching Mackenzie with dull eyes.

  “Sir, there’s a door outside.” Peterson walked in, his face changing. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

  Mackenzie pressed her badge against the glass. “I’m Detective Mackenzie Price with the Lakemore PD.” She mouthed the words slowly, unsure if they could even hear her. “Stay put. We have arrested Preston. You’re safe now. It’s over.”

  Sixty-Two

  December 14

  The sky burst into a flaming blue, dragging Mackenzie into the morning. A spear of lightning slashed the sky open, releasing raindrops that danced before her. The vivid blue blurred into a metallic gray. Dewdrops adorned the forest in front of her—glistening and radiant. The scenery was striking. The sound of sparrows singing drowned by the pitter-patter of sprinkling rain.

  Mackenzie’s arms and legs were covered, but the cold made her bones rattle. She stood at the edge of the woods by Hidden Lake. She swallowed hard and ventured in. She had only come here three times before. But today marked the first voluntary expedition undertaken with a sound mind.

  Her legs felt woolly. Her eyes struggled to stay open under the scattered light from the rain and bopping leaves.

  You have to help me bury him.

  Charles.

  The man with you is not Robert Price.

  The memories made her chest feel like it was filled with needles. Her muscles twitched in different places. Her skin became oversensitive to the wind and rain.

  Mackenzie came to a halt at the edge of Hidden Lake. It was oddly shaped—like an ink-splat. Rain drummed the surface, causing ripples that merged and clashed. She removed her earphones and listened to the sounds of the rain and the wind in the trees.

  Lakemore’s beauty was underrated.

  Raindrops ran down her face, plastering her hair to her skin. Her throat closed, remembering the fleeting memories she had of Robert Price that she was trying to hold on to.

  Her only sense of relief came from the fact that they had been able to rescue Alison and the other women. They were immediately taken to the hospital to be treated for their injuries and undergo psych evaluation. Preston had been charged with unlawful imprisonment, trafficking, simple assault, and assault causing bodily harm. Other charges related to performing unsafe medical procedures and stealing prescription pills from his practice were right around the corner.

  Preston was adamant that he hadn’t committed any murders. But he had looked Mackenzie in the eye and asserted that he didn’t know the whereabouts of Alison and the other women. He was a smooth liar, and Mackenzie was positive this was just another trick of his to avoid a murder charge.

  Her phone rang. “Detective Price.”

  “Mack, I got Anthony on the call,” Nick said. “Are you outside? It’s raining cats and dogs.”

  “Yeah, no kidding. Hey, Anthony. What do you have?”

  “Becky confirmed that the knife Preston gave us is the murder weapon. His prints were on the blade, not on the handle, consistent with him picking it up and not using it.”

  “Well, he could have cleaned the handle to mislead us,” Mackenzie replied.

  “True, but there’s some good news too. The knife is mostly covered in the blood of the victims. But there were three distinct DNA sets.”

  “The killer must have nicked themselves during the attack,” Nick said, excited. “Did you find any hits?”

  “No…”

  “Then what’s the good news?”

  “First set is Katy Becker’s. Second set belongs to Isabella Fabio. But the third one is a fifty percent match to Katy’s.”

  Mackenzie’s breath hitched. “Her parents?”

  “The DNA is female.”

  Charlotte Harris.

  Sixty-Three

  Mackenzie and Nick huddled together under his umbrella after climbing out of the car. Nick had picked her up on the way and given her an earful about going out for a run during a thunderstorm. She had rolled her eyes but now she was shaking with cold.

  “Katy’s mother, really?” Nick took off his scarf and handed it to Mackenzie. “It doesn’t make sense. Maybe there’s been some mistake.”

  He had normal parents. His father had always been busy and had high expectations. His mother had died when he was just a teenager. But they had loved and protected him. He was always reluctant to believe a parent could harm a child. Mackenzie didn’t blame him. It was a blessing he wasn’t jaded that way.

  She rang the bell with a heavy arm. The wind made raindrops fly into their eyes. After a few seconds, the door opened. Frank Harris was wearing his pajamas and a look of bleary confusion. It was still early in the morning. “Detectives?”

  “Can we come in? Sorry to bother you so early,” Nick said.

  “Sure.” He frowned.

  Inside, Mackenzie relaxed when warmth kissed her skin. They took off their soiled shoes and followed Frank into the living room.

  “Did you find anything?” Frank asked.

  Mackenzie wondered if he knew she was involved. She didn’t believe he did. Behind him, Charlotte came out of the kitchen with a towel in her hands.

  The pressure in the air nosedived, making Mackenzie lightheaded. As Charlotte got closer she momentarily morphed into Melody, before changing shape again. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?”

  Nick cleared his throat. “Just water, please. We need to talk.”

  Charlotte slightly staggered back and eyed them cautiously, with lips parted. If Mackenzie hadn’t been paying close attention to her, she wouldn’t have noticed. Charlotte retreated into the kitchen. Frank gestured for them to sit, then fidgeted. The rain was beginning to die off, making the silence in the house seem eerie. />
  Mackenzie spotted a picture of Katy at her graduation, flanked by her parents. Frank had his arm around her. Charlotte was half hugging her.

  Charlotte returned with a tray. She set it on the table, trembling. When she sat next to Frank, her face was pale.

  “Do either of you hunt?” Nick picked up a glass of water and guzzled it.

  “Both of us. Why?” Frank asked.

  “How long have you been hunting for?”

  “Years. Charlotte got me into it. She used to go hunting with her father when she was younger. Why are you asking all this?”

  It gave Charlotte enough expertise to use a gut hook knife effectively.

  “I’ll explain. Can you bring any knives you keep for hunting?”

  “Sure,” Frank said, nodding. “We keep them together in a case.” He left the room.

  Mackenzie glared at Charlotte. Tears collected in the corners of her eyes. She knew. Everyone in the room did. Mackenzie observed the wrinkled fingers gripping the cuffs of her sleeves. She had noted earlier that Charlotte was a strapping woman. Strong and sturdy. Today, she looked puny.

  Frank returned with his case and placed it on the table. “Here you go.”

  “Is anything missing?” Mackenzie asked.

  He rummaged around for a bit and then grimaced. “Yes. A gut hook knife. We only hunt in summer, so I don’t know where I left it. Charlotte, have you seen it?”

  She looked down at her lap. Her chest rose and fell.

  “Charlotte?” he asked again.

  “We found the murder weapon,” Mackenzie said. “It had the DNA of the murderer.”

  Charlotte closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “What’s going on?” Frank was baffled.

  Time had stilled. A revolting and utterly devastating insinuation hung in the air. Suddenly, a hot flash flooded Mackenzie’s senses. Her ears felt hot. She stared at Charlotte, waiting for her to break down and divulge what had happened in the early hours of that fated Saturday.

  “What happened, Charlotte?” Mackenzie asked.

  “What?!” Frank’s jaw hung open. “I don’t understand.”

  “I knew Kim was back,” Charlotte said through gritted teeth. “I saw her on Friday at the market. For a second I thought it was Katy, but then I realized something was very off about her. Wearing a ratty old T-shirt with holes in it and hair pinned up in a messy bun. Katy wouldn’t dress like that in public. She walked with a hunched back and smacked gum. Little things that Katy would never do. She just looked so different…” Charlotte’s eyes twitched. “I immediately called Katy, and she answered the phone. She said she was leaving for the weekend and to call later. She sounded busy. But the woman in front of me wasn’t busy, and she hadn’t received a call. And I knew… knew that it was Kim shopping for jewelry, right in front of my eyes.”

  Katy had invited Kim to stay with her that weekend while Cole was away. Mackenzie recalled Kim telling her about their conversation. Kim wasn’t ready to meet their parents, so Katy had made sure that they stayed away that weekend. She’d told them she wasn’t there.

  “Then what happened?” Nick urged her to continue.

  “I was stunned. I froze. It was like I was back in the past again. By the time I absorbed the reality that Kim was in town, she had wandered away. I lost sight of her and drove back home.”

  Charlotte’s face was hard as stone. It was clear she didn’t share any of her husband’s regrets about Kim. All her compassion was reserved for just one daughter. “I spent the entire night wondering what Kim could possibly want. Why was she here? What was she planning? I couldn’t tell Frank. My husband has a soft spot for Kim. Not that she deserves it. I realized she must be back to hurt Katy, maybe even to kill her. It couldn’t have been a coincidence for her to end up here. I had to protect my child. I couldn’t let Kim harm Katy. You don’t know how violent she was, even at four years old. She was a monster even then, imagine what she would have been capable of now.”

  “You hate her so much,” Mackenzie blurted out, her chest feeling tight as she thought of another mother who had rejected her daughter.

  “She killed my child!” Charlotte cried. Her eyes were bloodshot, like the tip of her nose. Her hand flew to her stomach. “When she pushed me down those stairs, he was inside me. I was eight months pregnant. I felt him every day. He danced to songs by Prince. He loved tamarind. He hated cheese. Whenever I lay on my right side, his elbow would jut out.”

  “Honey, Kim was only four. It was an accident—”

  “No, it wasn’t. You went to work, Frank. I stayed home those four years and dealt with that psychopath. Do you know how much she used to hit Katy? One time she almost needed stitches. Kim pushed me down the stairs after I scolded her for breaking Katy’s toy. It wasn’t an accident. I remember looking at her standing at the top of the stairs with a blank look on her face. No tears, no shock. She wanted to hurt me. Every single day, I looked at her and searched for my child. But every day she proved that there was nothing good inside her.”

  Mackenzie looked at Nick uncomfortably. She couldn’t fathom what it meant to be a mother. But even as she stared at a bitter Charlotte, she couldn’t deny her pain. Years later, she still grieved the life that was inside her, the life that was taken away so unfairly. She imagined how much Charlotte must have struggled to understand and love Kim. But eventually Kim’s mental illness wore down her mother’s determination.

  “You loved Katy,” Mackenzie said.

  “The most.” Charlotte sniffed. “She was all I had after my one child killed the other. She was a good daughter. But Kim took her away from me. That boyfriend who had followed her here mistook Katy for Kim and snatched her. If Kim hadn’t come to Lakemore, my daughter would still be alive. I told you, Frank. Everywhere she goes, trouble follows. She came back into our lives and our daughter died at the hands of Kim’s crazy ex-boyfriend.”

  Charlotte still didn’t know that Katy and Kim had switched places.

  “What happened that morning?” Nick asked.

  “I went over to Katy and Cole’s to make sure that Kim wasn’t sniffing around. But then I saw her coming out of the house, wearing Katy’s clothes, looking exactly like her, wearing that necklace I saw her buy at the market. It disgusted me. But it was her. Katy had told me she would be away all weekend. And here Kim was, trying to look like Katy. Like she was trying to steal Katy’s life. She was going to hurt her and take away what was hers. I had to stop her. She was on foot, so I got out of my car and followed her into Woodburn Park.”

  And Mackenzie could see how it went down. A mother with a tattered soul and no closure following an unsuspecting Katy into the woods, mistaking her for Kim.

  “I lost track of her for a bit. She was hurrying along the trail. When I eventually caught up to her, I saw her with that girl.”

  Bella—running away after she unexpectedly encountered Preston.

  “That girl looked so much like Katy. Not exactly like her, but close enough that I expect even Frank would confuse them if he weren’t wearing his glasses. She was kneeling on the ground, panting, like she had tripped, and Kim was standing over her. I didn’t understand what Kim was planning, but it horrified me. It was so sick. So wrong.” She looked Mackenzie firmly in the eye. “I decided to protect my daughter. They were a threat. I was carrying a knife in case anything went wrong. I confronted them, and there was so much commotion.”

  Mackenzie saw it in her head. Katy’s confusion over seeing Bella, who in turn would have been terrified. Then Charlotte emerged, wielding a knife with blind fury and a single-point agenda. Katy must have been stunned. Bella would have panicked.

  Arguments. Accusations. Miscommunication.

  “The lake was the closest, so I dropped them there. Almost sprained my wrist in the process. It was such a surreal moment.” Charlotte’s eyes misted with tears, as she massaged her joint. “I hated myself, but it was necessary. It was justice for my son. Katy was starting a family. I couldn’t l
et Kim destroy that. I ran out of there and only later did I realize I had dropped the knife at some point.”

  Frank’s head hung loosely, like it had become detached. The strength had been sucked out of him. He had blanched at her words, but now he looked empty.

  Mackenzie didn’t have the heart to tell Charlotte that she had killed the daughter she loved. Not that she condoned the idea of Charlotte killing Kim. But the woman sitting across from her was no unfeeling villain. She was a deeply disturbed mother, whose trauma years before had warped her maternal instincts into something terrible.

  Nick sighed and stood up, taking out the handcuffs. “Charlotte Harris, you’re under arrest for the murders of Isabella Fabio and Katy Becker. You have the—”

  “What?” Charlotte protested as Nick gently pulled her up. “What do you mean by Katy?”

  “Katy knew about Kim and was helping her,” Mackenzie croaked. “She lied to you about being away, because Kim didn’t want to see you. It was Katy who left the house that morning, wearing the necklace Kim had given her. We got DNA confirmation last night.”

  Nick resumed reciting Charlotte her Miranda rights. But his voice was drowned by the sounds of the bone-crushing grief that escaped Charlotte.

  Epilogue

  December 15

  Mackenzie plugged her nose and popped open her ears. She stretched back her shoulders and a crack rippled up her spine. In the conference room, Sully and Rivera went over the final details with her and Nick. Still reeling from the discovery yesterday, she was exhausted. All she could think of was Dr. Rees Preston. A dangerous but refined man. A self-declared savior. His calculating eyes and amused smile, like he knew everyone’s secret. He worshipped his mentor and continued his work.

  “Good save, you two,” Sully praised Mackenzie and Nick. “The women you and Spitz rescued from Preston’s barn are in the hospital recovering. Did you talk to any of them?”