The Bones of Others
Page 1
Praise for Vickie McKeehan’s novels
“Strong, distinctive characters. I cannot wait to get my hands on the next book.”
Just Evil
- Coffee Time Romance and More -
“Queen of suspense…”
Just Evil
- Jill D. Hidy, author of The Old World Series -
“…an excellent storyteller…”
Deeper Evil
- Toye Lawson Brown, author of When the Music Stops -
“A must read trilogy.”
Ending Evil
- Rosalie A. Pope, author of Puppies For Sale $25.00 -
“A brilliant and rewarding read.”
Promise Cove
- Bestchicklit.com -
“Promise Cove is a story about life—its heartbreaks and celebrations.”
Promise Cove
- Carolyn Arnold, author of The Madison Knight Series -
“For an entertaining adventure and love story,
I highly recommend.”
Hidden Moon Bay
- Marilyn Holdsworth, author of Pegasus -
“You feel Keegan and Cord’s sorrows, pain, and love…”
Dancing Tides
- John Chavez, reader -
also by Vickie McKeehan
The Evil Trilogy
JUST EVIL Book One
DEEPER EVIL Book Two
ENDING EVIL Book Three
The Pelican Pointe Series
PROMISE COVE
HIDDEN MOON BAY
DANCING TIDES
LIGHTHOUSE REEF
STARLIGHT DUNES
Coming Christmas 2013
Skye Cree Novels
THE BONES OF OTHERS
THE BONES WILL TELL
THE BOX OF BONES
Coming 2014
The Bones of Others
A Skye Cree Novel
VICKIE McKEEHAN
The Bones of Others
A Skye Cree Novel
Copyright © 2013 Vickie McKeehan
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
Excerpt from The Bones Will Tell copyright 2013 by Vickie McKeehan. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Published by Beachdevils Press
ISBN-10: 0615751911
ISBN-13: 978-0615751917
Printed in the USA
Cover design by David C. Cassidy
Used by permission.
www.davidccassidy.com
Visit the author at:
www.vickiemckeehan.com
www.facebook.com/VickieMcKeehan
Author’s Note to Readers: First, I want to say a huge thank you to all Seattleites for such wonderful hospitality while visiting your city. Next, I’d like to say for this novel, literary license was taken with the Seattle streets. Let’s face it, I made up stuff, especially a lot of fictional streets and places, especially anywhere near or around a port area, that includes both Seattle and Tacoma. If the streets exist at all, it is in a purely fictional way and only in my mind. And to all those that say it rains too much in your fair city, I say posh. I lived in Houston for several years and it rains more there than it ever did on us in Seattle.
For the victims, the survivors,
someone’s daughter or son.
The children.
If a man hasn’t discovered something that
he will die for, he isn’t fit to live.
Martin Luther King, Jr.
1929 – 1968
Excerpt from
A Man Young and Old: I. First Love
by
William Butler Yeats
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Bones of Others
A Skye Cree Novel
VICKIE McKEEHAN
PROLOGUE
Thirteen years earlier
Seattle, Washington
The fragrant grass and clover had been freshly cut, and the smell of it filtered to his nose, making him sneeze once, then twice more in rapid succession. He took out a handkerchief from his pants pocket to swipe at his runny nose. Today’s pollen count had been seventy-five, the highest all summer long. It was obviously responsible for triggering his chronic hay fever. It reminded him how much he hated spending time outdoors. He’d much rather stay tucked into his apartment, sitting in front of his computer screen.
But little girls loved to play outside.
The warmth of the July day, along with the beautiful blue sky, invariably drew them out of the house to play, often unaccompanied by adults. And today, because of the balmy-like weather, the public park, his domain, the realm where he ruled, was a noisy place. Several families were hosting birthday parties while others picnicked to the sounds of rock music drifting from their stereos, which meant the playground was packed. What with the swings, the monkey bars, two slides, the spider rider, and the sandbox, there were almost too many children to keep track of.
But since he was good at what he did, he didn’t mind today’s outing if it got him the results he wanted. He’d been watching the kids at play for almost an hour now, studying his choices. The range of girls ran the gamut—chubby, slim, blonde, brunette—no doubt an assortment to pick from.
But one stood out. It hadn’t taken long before he’d zeroed in on her. But there was a drawback. At the moment, the one he wanted threw a Frisbee back and forth to her father. He knew because he’d overheard the little girl call the man daddy. With the parents in attendance that meant he’d have to be extra vigilant. It didn’t mean it couldn’t be done, only that he’d have to take more precautions.
The one who’d caught his eye had long, black hair tied back in a ponytail held in place by a pretty red ribbon—bundled up like a gift—especially for him. Her running and bouncing had caused her cinnamon skin to all but glow under the summer sun.
He had only to bide his time to wait for that perfect opportunity, that seamless opening where he could make his move. It wouldn’t matter that she’d come to the park with others. It couldn’t be otherwise. He always made sure he kept away from the watchful eyes of the adults. He tried never to bring attention to himself. Attention wouldn’t do. As long as he stayed back, he would go unnoticed, oblivious to everyone because he didn’t stand out. Making a mistake at this point would cost him. He couldn’t get careless when he was so close to what he wanted. So he sucked in a slow, deep breath, glanced upward, daring to take his eyes off the dark-haired child long enough to get himself under control.
He had only to be pati
ent and watch and wait for his opening, which would come, it always came. If he were persistent, he would be rewarded.
Another fifteen minutes went by before one of the grown-ups, one of the mothers, called to the dad reminding him it was time to start the burgers and dogs. The man watching from the sidelines saw the father bend down to say something to his daughter. The father pointed in the direction of the soccer field where a group of youngsters kicked around a ball.
It became apparent her dad meant for her to go play with the other kids. Perfect, he decided. The dad would be caught up in starting the charcoal grill, maybe lose track for a moment. That’s all the time he’d need. He made sure the adult turned his full attention to getting the food going before he focused fully now on the child, no older than twelve as she dutifully trotted off to join her playmates. But when she hung back, for some reason, as if reluctant to join the game, he knew then for certain. Shy. Malleable. Perfect.
It was a sign. He absolutely knew then she was the one. She would be special. This one would never end up where he’d put the bones of others. He’d see to that. This one would be the girl who helped him launch his enterprise, the business venture he’d been thinking about starting. Whitfield’s Little Angels. Of course, he couldn’t very well use his real name in the company logo. That would be incredibly stupid on his part. But there would be no more wasting time getting his project off the ground. And this little one seemed perfect. He’d definitely made the right choice there. Nobody, he thought now, was better primed and organized than he for what he did. Establishing order upfront meant success later. That’s why he’d never been caught.
Now all he had to do was get his hands on the merchandise.
For a good fifteen minutes more he became a spectator. Still as a statue, he waited. After all, patience was a virtue.
When the soccer ball missed the goal and rolled out of bounds in his direction, he recognized his opening had arrived. As the newest member of the team, as if ordained, the little girl darted off to retrieve the loose ball so her friends wouldn’t have to.
He had his story ready. He’d had years to prepare his ruse. The lie the child would believe. It had worked before. It would work here again today. As soon as the dark-haired girl veered into his zone, he would work his magic.
From the sidelines, he ran his tongue around his lips in anticipation as the girl got closer, closer to her fate. It was only a matter of time now. The bushes concealed him till that very last moment, that very last precious second when she belonged to her parents.
He spared one glance in the direction of the adults, still absorbed with prepping the food.
But in that last instant, unnoticed by the grown-ups, was all it took. He started talking fast, spinning out the lie quickly, believable to a trusting twelve-year-old.
As he always did he guided the child to his car—and ultimately to his purpose.
CHAPTER ONE
Present day
Friday afternoon, March twenty-sixth
Seattle, Washington
The intermittent chunks of ice spitting from the gray sky pelted the concrete pavement leaving it sloppy and slick. The freezing drizzle probably meant winter would hang around through the weekend at least. Not only did the storm shove spring into the background for another couple of days, the nasty weather made for an early dusk. Nine-to-fivers started eyeing the sky soon after lunch, wanting only for the weekend to finally get here so they could hurry home.
The gloom brought rush-hour closer while traffic began to build up and clog the intersection of Fourth and Pike. What with early birds trying to get a jump on everyone else, bumper-to-bumper exhaust hung in the air while SUVs and little hybrids jockeyed for the same going-home space.
The park across the street appeared empty except for the bundled-up homeless pushing their shopping carts along the sidewalk or in between hedges as they already began scouting out the best places to spend the night. A reminder that the brutal cold over the next twenty-four hours would not be kind to either man or beast forced to be out on the streets tonight.
Wind snapped out of the north, the gust causing trash to become airborne and whirl the debris into wet, paperlike dust devils.
Street vendors and musicians had packed up right after lunch, as had the panhandlers. Both groups had either wandered into one of the coffee shops to lounge away what was left of the afternoon or had simply retreated to some inner sanctum, someplace else where they could nurse a strong cup of java or an Irish coffee to chase away the chill.
Several streets away, the teen hookers clustered under an overhang of sorts trying to stay dry. A small, anorexic brunette, who already looked as though she’d gone too many rounds with the needle, hung back to the side. Around her bone-thin shoulders a tight-fitting, faux red leather jacket didn’t look as though it kept her warm enough—certainly not with the matching red miniskirt that barely came down to her thigh-high, shiny black, plastic-looking, patent leather boots covering her skinny legs.
Visibly shivering from the cold, she danced in place as leaves blew around her feet. She took several shaky drags on a damp cigarette until her eyes darted automatically to the small pickup that pulled up to the curb. Because she was closest, and maybe slightly more desperate than the others, she shot out from under the awning, approaching her customer on the passenger side window, eagerly negotiating her fee quickly with the driver before hopping inside to bask in the warmth of the truck.
Not five hundred yards from where the young prostitute jumped into the truck, the man waited. He wasn’t interested in the young hookers even if he often used them as a fallback. The teen streetwalkers were far from his first choice. But there were times a man with certain urges had to make do.
Today wasn’t one of those times. Today he had other prey on his mind.
From behind the wheel of his rusted-out blue van he cruised the neighborhood, up and down the streets, circling the block several times in an area he’d been scoping out for more than a week. His eyes lit on the school and he checked his watch. Timing was everything. He hoped he’d get lucky as he pulled the vehicle up to the curb to wait.
Fifteen-year-old Erin Prescott raced across an open field of wet grass adjacent to Jesuit Preparatory Academy, her flame red shoulder-length hair flowing back in the breeze. Intent on getting to spend a couple of hours with Jason Avery at the mall, her mind fretted about how she looked. She hoped her hair didn’t frizz up the way it always did in the predictable damp Seattle weather. She hoped by the time she made it to the mall, her face didn’t look like someone had set fire to her cheeks. Why did she have to have such wild red hair and the blotchy skin to go with it anyway? Why couldn’t she have silky blonde tresses and gorgeous skin like Mary Jane Pruitt? Mary Jane didn’t have to worry about splotches of any kind. Her skin was flawless.
Erin’s looks aside, a seventeen-year-old senior with a car had invited her to spend his Friday afternoon with him which pretty much had Erin floating on air. She wasn’t sure why Jason had picked her and she didn’t care. She knew Jason had his driver’s license and drove a sporty little BMW he’d gotten for his last birthday. Although Erin couldn’t imagine the reason, she wanted to meet Jason at the mall more than she wanted the next upgrade for her iPhone.
It had all happened right after third-period English class when Jason had approached her in the hallway. He’d stood right there beside her locker and suggested they meet up after school. Erin had tried to play it cool. But the prospect of getting to hook up with the hot-body Jason and spend the afternoon with him had caused her to ditch cheerleading practice. By doing so she not only risked getting into trouble at school but also at home as well. If her parents found out about the trip to the mall she’d be grounded. Knowing her parents, it would probably last until she turned sixteen. But to get to spend two hours alone with Jason Avery would be worth every minute she’d spend in trouble.
Checking her watch, the fifteen-year-old decided she had at least until seven before anyone wou
ld be home at her house, maybe more if the nasty weather held up her parents in traffic. If luck was with her and she happened to be a measly thirty minutes late she felt sure she could pacify her parents with some bullshit story to keep her out of trouble.
That reasoning gave her hope, enough to enjoy a couple of tacos with Jason, especially if she could talk him into giving her a ride home in his sleek BMW.
As rain dripped from the tips of the swaying evergreens behind her, Erin ignored the sting on her cheeks from the biting wind. Her one-track mind on Jason, she rushed on toward the Central Link, picking up her pace just as the train station came into view. The train would get her to the mall in less than twelve minutes and take her to the boy who made her heart race every time she spotted him in the halls at school.
Without a backward glance at her surroundings, head bent in the rain and wind, she didn’t see the man come up behind her.
By the time she did, it was too late.
Spotting the girl dressed in her school uniform, getting all wet in the drizzle, he left his lamppost to tag along behind her. Who would have guessed the miserable weather would have given him such a gift and one as precious as the cute little redhead? She’d be his reward for the lousy week he’d had. Four days earlier he’d tried to snatch another child only to have the kid scream her head off. Because of the racket she’d made, he’d been forced to let her go before he ever got her to the van. He’d been sloppy. He was already in trouble with the boss. Today, failure wasn’t an option.
He took a second glimpse at how sweet and young and innocent-eyed this one looked, almost beyond belief. He liked knowing he’d be her first. Just the thought made him realize some things were meant to be.