Cut and Run

by Mary Burton

  Like her. Like Macy. “How old do you think this person was?”

  Nancy returned to the skull and studied the line down the center. Called the sagittal suture, this line marked where the growth plates in the skull joined. Most people’s closed up by age twenty-six, but everyone’s was fused by age thirty-five. This line wasn’t closed.

  “I’m guessing she was seventeen to twenty-one,” Nancy said.

  “Agreed.”

  “Her teeth for the most part are in good shape. One deep cavity on the back molar that would have bothered her.”

  “What else do you notice about her?” Faith said.

  “No signs of trauma. Cause of death is inclusive at this point.”

  Sadness clenched her chest as she turned from the table and pulled off her latex gloves.

  “I want to see the other two sets of remains the moment they arrive. Understood?”

  “Will do, Dr. McIntyre.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Thursday, June 28, 7:45 a.m.

  Hayden had been on the phone since before dawn with several judges until he found one willing to sign a warrant for Garnet’s bar by early morning. In the interim, he ordered a patrol car to be stationed outside Second Chances and asked to be alerted if anyone appeared.

  While Hayden and Brogan waited on the warrant, they headed to the law offices of Slater & McIntyre. Last night, Faith had texted him, informing him of her meeting with Franklin and the missing girls’ connections to the law firm. The law offices opened at eight, and he planned to be on their doorstep when they did.

  Before they cleared the parking lot, his phone rang. The display on his phone read SPAGNOLO, the forensic technician who’d been working the grave site last night.

  “I’m with Brogan and putting you on speakerphone,” Hayden said.

  “Understood,” Spagnolo said.

  Hayden pressed the speaker button. “Go ahead. What do you have for us?”

  “We were there until midnight and were able to remove the first set of remains,” Spagnolo said. “It took longer than we expected because we sifted through each cup of soil to ensure there were no personal items that might have been with the victim. We did find a few metal snaps, but whatever fabric the victim had been wearing disintegrated a long time ago. We also found two pennies near the skull.”

  “Pennies?” Hayden asked.

  “Best guess, someone was superstitious enough to think the victim needed the money to pay the ferryman,” Spagnolo theorized. “Greek mythology said the mythical ferryman requires the pennies in exchange for passage across the river Styx from the earth to the underworld.”

  Crow had been superstitious. “Maybe he was more worried that she’d not cross over and would come back to haunt him.”

  “I can only hope,” Brogan muttered.

  “What’s on the docket for today?” Hayden asked.

  “We have two crews working sites number two and three simultaneously,” Spagnolo said. “Barring any complications, we should be finished by the end of the day.”

  “Thanks for the update,” Hayden said. “Keep me posted.”

  “Will do.” Spagnolo ended the call.

  Hayden pulled into the parking lot of Slater & McIntyre, located in a glass-and-brick building in downtown Austin.

  Brogan checked his phone. “Just received an email from a buddy of mine at the state employment commission.”

  “Are you going to make me guess?” Hayden asked.

  “Guess who worked for Slater and McIntyre in the mideighties?”

  “Danny Garnet.”

  “Correct. So did Jack Crow.”

  “Interesting.”

  As they stepped through the front doors, they removed their hats, and Hayden’s gaze was drawn to the portrait of a man with a round face and thick graying hair wearing a crisp, dark suit standing in a law library. The painting, hanging near the receptionist’s mahogany antique desk, depicted only one of the firm’s two founding principals, Peter Slater Sr., when he was in his early forties. All traces of Russell McIntyre had been erased after his arrest years ago.

  From what he’d read about the two partners, Russell McIntyre had been the one with star power and the driving force behind the firm. Though Peter Slater Sr. had been competent enough, it had been McIntyre and his wife’s family connections that had attracted the first big clients. Russell may have nearly ruined the firm with his financial schemes, but the fact was there’d have been no firm at all without him.

  They showed their badges to the receptionist. “Mitchell Hayden. Mike Brogan. Texas Rangers. We need to see PJ Slater.”

  The woman rose, pulling the phone headset off. “He’s in a meeting.”

  “We need to see him now,” Hayden said, unapologetically.

  “I don’t think you understand who he is or who he’s meeting with now.”

  “I don’t think you understand how serious I am. This isn’t a request,” Hayden said.

  She tipped her chin up a fraction. “I’ll speak to his secretary.”

  She reappeared minutes later and escorted the pair to an office on the top floor in the back corner. The large plate glass windows overlooked the city of Austin. PJ came out from around his desk, adjusting his jacket. “Rangers Hayden and Brogan. It was good to see you at Monday’s fundraiser, Ranger Hayden. What brings you gentlemen here?”

  “Your mother did a great job organizing the shelter fundraiser. Hope you raised a lot of money.”

  “As always, she got everyone to give until it hurt,” PJ said, grinning. “Can I offer you coffee or a soda? My assistant is bringing me a fresh cup.”

  “Coffee,” Brogan said.

  “Please make it two,” Hayden said. “We’ve been going all night.”

  “Working a case?” PJ asked as he texted the coffee order somewhere.

  Hayden grinned. “Yes, we are, and I’m hoping you can help us with it.”

  “I’ll do what I can.” He held out his hand toward the chairs and couch across from his desk. When the Rangers sat on the couch, PJ sat in one of the chairs.

  The door opened and his secretary appeared with a tray of three cups of coffee in paper to-go cups, sweeteners, and cream. Both the Rangers took their coffee black, but PJ poured a liberal amount of sugar in his. “Hope you don’t mind the paper. We’re all on the go, and so are half our clients. Nobody sits and enjoys an entire cup of coffee anymore,” he mused.

  Hayden sipped his coffee, knowing he’d start slow and ask the easy questions first. “I’m looking for information on Danny Garnet. He worked for your firm in the mideighties.”

  “I’m not familiar with the name, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t correct. I can check with our human resources director and see what she has in her records.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Hayden said.

  Slater picked up the phone on a side table and punched three numbers on the keypad. “Sharon, this is PJ. Can you pull the records for Danny Garnet? He would have worked for us in the eighties.” He listened and nodded his head. “Pull whatever you have. And I’m going to need that yesterday if you don’t mind. Great.” He hung up and sat back down. “She’ll be here shortly. We digitized our employee files about ten years ago, and that makes life a lot easier when old personnel questions arise. What has Mr. Garnet gotten himself into that requires a visit from the Texas Rangers?”

  “Before I answer that, I have another question,” Hayden said.

  “Sure. Fire away.”

  “You told Faith McIntyre that you found the name Josie Jones in one of Russell McIntyre’s datebooks, and you believe Josie might be Faith’s birth mother.”

  PJ sat back, sipping his coffee. The jovial welcome didn’t completely fade from his face, but it soured considerably. “That’s a very private matter for Faith, and I don’t see how that is the concern of the Texas Rangers.”

  “The reason I’m asking is that we think Josie Jones knew Danny Garnet back in the eighties,” Hayden said.

  �
��Again, I don’t know how it relates to Faith’s adoption. And frankly, I don’t think she’d like me discussing this with you or anyone else. All I know for sure is that Josie Jones was a name I said may be a lead for Faith.”

  “Have you ever heard of Olivia Martin or Kathy Saunders?” Brogan asked.

  PJ looked genuinely confused now, but Hayden reminded himself he was dealing with a very adept defense lawyer. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

  “These are women who were represented at one point by Slater and McIntyre. They went missing in the late eighties.”

  “We have fifteen attorneys on staff and have been in business in our current and former forms for nearly forty years. Do you have any idea how many clients that means?”

  “I’m guessing a lot,” Hayden said. “But I’m betting you also digitized the client records along with the employee files. That kind of technology makes it so easy for you to find out.”

  “I could do that, but I won’t. If we did represent those women, the work falls under attorney-client privilege.”

  Hayden’s voice dropped as his patience thinned. “Well, for your own sake, I suggest you have a look.”

  “Are you suggesting someone here was responsible for their disappearances?” PJ asked.

  “I’m not suggesting anything.”

  A knock on the door had PJ and Hayden rising as a woman in her late fifties with shoulder-length graying hair appeared. She nodded to Hayden but moved quickly to Slater and handed him an iPad. “I’ve pulled up his file. This is all we have, sir.”

  “Thank you, Sharon.” PJ sat back down and scrolled through the papers, not saying a word until Sharon closed the door behind her. “I don’t want you to think that Slater and McIntyre isn’t cooperative. But we are bound by ethics and laws.”

  “Understood. Just giving you a heads-up that we’ll be circling back on this matter. What about Garnet? There shouldn’t be any restrictions to talking about former employees.”

  “No, of course not.” PJ studied the information Sharon had brought him. “Garnet was hired in 1985 as a private investigator. Back then the firm was small and had only a couple of attorneys other than my father and Russell. This day and age, I wouldn’t work directly with a private investigator, but in those days, my father and Russell would have.”

  Hayden had searched PJ Slater on the Internet and learned he’d been born in 1990. He was the only child of Peter and Margaret Slater and according to the records was not adopted. “Do you have a list of cases Garnet investigated for the firm?”

  That thousand-watt smile returned. “And we are right back to attorney-client privilege. Our private investigators often handle very delicate information that our clients would not expect us to ever reveal, even after forty years. I can tell you according to this printout that he handled dozens of cases. Why is Garnet so important to you now?”

  “His name came up in an investigation, and we plan to interview him later today.” Hayden always judiciously balanced how much to tell as well as withhold during an interview. Sometimes he had to give a little information to prime the pumps. “Have you heard the name Paige Sheldon?”

  “I did hear the Sheldon name. Her story was in the news recently. She’s missing, I think. Do you think Mr. Garnet is associated with the Sheldon case?”

  “We don’t know for sure yet, but considering this girl is still alive and about to deliver a baby, we want to find her as quickly as we can.”

  PJ glanced at his iPad screen. “As our firm has had no dealings with Danny Garnet in almost thirty years, there’s not much I can do for you, Captain. And how do you know these young women didn’t simply move on to greener pastures? They all could be alive and well in another part of the country and just be living under the radar.”

  Hayden decided to toss Slater a little more information. “The thing is, Mr. Slater, I’ve got three Jane Does in the morgue right now. Their bodies are nothing but bones, and it’s clear they’ve been dead for at least thirty years.”

  PJ’s expression didn’t change. “Do you know for a fact that the three sets of remains belong to Jones, Martin, and Saunders?”

  “I won’t know until DNA testing is complete,” he said.

  “And Faith must know about this discovery?” PJ asked.

  “She does.”

  PJ drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I didn’t realize this was a murder investigation.”

  “I don’t like to use murder as part of my opening line. Has a tendency to put people on edge,” Hayden offered.

  “I can see why. And you think because the former Slater and McIntyre represented these women, someone here might have had a hand in their deaths?”

  “Begs the question, don’t you think?”

  “Garnet did work for the firm during that time frame, but he could have been acting on his own.”

  “Possibly. And the answer might be as simple as that, but you did say in the firm’s first years McIntyre and your father worked with Garnet. And you told Faith Josie Jones appeared in Russell McIntyre’s datebook multiple times during the time in question.”

  “You really don’t think respectable men like my father and Russell would do something as heinous as kidnap three girls and murder them?” Slater asked.

  A smile played at the corner of Hayden’s lips as he shook his head. “I learned a long time ago the capacity for evil stretches across all economic and social bounds.”

  “My father and Russell did a good bit of pro bono work in the early years as a way of giving back to the community. Maybe by representing these women we unwittingly put them in Garnet’s path. How would we have control over what he did on his own time?”

  “Does it say Garnet was a felon in his files?” Hayden asked.

  “It says his offenses were nonviolent, nor were they felonies. My father and mother have always believed in second chances.”

  Funny he should say second chances, the name of Garnet’s bar. “Ever met a Jack Crow?”

  “No,” Slater said.

  “What about Sam Delany?”

  “We can keep playing do-you-know, but the fact is I wasn’t even born when these women disappeared, and since my father and his partner are dead, there is not much I can do for you.”

  “Faith said you checked McIntyre’s datebooks and found Josie. I suggest you do the same for the other girls. I also suggest you read up on their files and find out who represented them.”

  “Most of Russell’s records were seized during Mr. McIntyre’s federal investigation. I was lucky to find the datebooks.”

  “Your father’s records are intact, I assume.”

  Slater was young but he wasn’t stupid, and he’d already shepherded this firm through his father’s death.

  If either Russell or Peter Sr. had a hand in these girls’ deaths, he suspected PJ would find a way to hide it. It was easy to be high-minded and moral until your entire world was challenged. Hayden would have signed an oath with the devil to save Sierra, and he’d bet PJ would hide evidence to save his firm.

  “I’m not releasing my father’s records, especially when he isn’t alive to defend himself.”

  “Those girls deserve justice, Mr. Slater.”

  “Of course they deserve justice. You aren’t fresh out of the academy. You knew when you walked in the door I couldn’t divulge my client names or discuses firm business.” PJ tugged at the end of his monogramed cuff. “You were hoping because I’m young, I’d make a mistake, but I can assure you that you aren’t the first person who’s tried to test my mettle since my father’s death.”

  “It never hurts to ask,” Hayden said with a grin. “And you’re right about me being on the job for a long time. But one thing all that time has taught me is to know when something isn’t right.” He leaned forward. “And Garnet’s involvement with this firm does not smell right, Mr. Slater. So until you help, I’m not going to be far from your doorstep.”

  “You’re wrong about us. I know my father and
his partner did things differently than I do. I know they understood how far a law could bend, but I don’t run the firm like that. We have nothing to hide.”

  “I hope you’re right.” He picked up his hat while he and Brogan rose. They all shook hands, and PJ walked them out of his office.

  Brogan paused. “Hell, forgot my hat.” He hurried in and out of the room in seconds, returning with his hat and a coffee cup. “You’re right about these to-go cups. Very handy.”

  “Glad you like it,” PJ said.

  Despite Brogan’s grin, they all knew they’d fallen on opposite sides of this case and would fight tooth and nail to protect their turf.

  Outside, the two Rangers got into Hayden’s SUV. As they settled, Brogan reached for an evidence bag from the glove box. He opened his door, poured out the coffee onto the parking lot, and dumped the cup into the bag. “I grabbed PJ’s cup and left mine in its place. PJ’s DNA may not be admissible, but I’m kind of curious to know who spawned him.”

  Hayden slid on his sunglasses. “Assuming all three of those girls had babies, he’d be the right age if he were one of the stolen babies.”

  “As I understand it, he’s not adopted.”

  “I’ll believe that when I see DNA results that do not link him with any of the three dead women,” Hayden said. His phone rang as he backed out of the space. “Captain Hayden.”

  “Hayden, this is Judge Templeton. I got something for you.”

  “That was fast.”

  The old man’s tone was serious. “You don’t call in favors all that often, so I knew it was important. I did find Josie Jones in my daily journal. As you said, she was arrested for shoplifting when she was eighteen. According to my notes, she was very pretty and had a fancy lawyer defending her.”

  “Slater and McIntyre.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Lucky guess. Who was the attorney of record? McIntyre or Slater?”

  “Peter Slater Sr. He saw to it she didn’t do any jail time.”

  PJ had told Faith that Josie had been in her father’s datebook. Was PJ lying, or was Russell’s datebook misleading? “Thanks for the update, Judge.” He ended the call and checked his watch. “Let’s get that cup dropped off, and then we’re headed to Second Chances, search warrant or not.”