A Grave Calling

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A Grave Calling Page 18

by Wendy Roberts


  “Ready?” Garrett asked, which was a foolish question because I’d been standing at the door with my shoes on for fifteen minutes.

  “I used your wedding ring on a string of dental floss to do the pendulum dowsing,” I blurted. “I’m sorry. I know that’s an invasion of your privacy but it was the only object I could think of that had emotion tied to it. I should’ve asked. I’m very, very sorry.”

  “My wedding ring?” He stared at me. Dark emotion crossed his face and then was gone.

  “Yes. I put it back in your drawer.”

  He nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Once we were in the car he told me that he’d called investigators to meet us on the scene. Every other time he called the technicians to come after the body was found. I fisted the L-rods in my lap and hoped the pendulum could be trusted.

  We’d been battling Seattle traffic for half an hour when he said suddenly, “I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me anything, or ask me if something’s okay. Like the ring.” He turned to look at me. “You were afraid to ask me.”

  “I wasn’t afraid... I just...”

  “You were afraid to ask me and then you were afraid to tell me afterward.”

  I swallowed and turned away. He reached to grab my hand and held it tight. My eyes were moist and I couldn’t look at him. Fear had been part of my makeup for so long I didn’t know how to turn it off.

  The area a hundred yards from the bridge was abuzz when we arrived. Agents were standing around with coffees in their hands and just leaning against their cars. All were men except for Jill, who stood out like an angry sore thumb. Garrett parked the car behind the others and asked me to wait. He got out and talked to the others while I held tight and counted the minutes. Simultaneously all heads turned to look at me and I felt myself grow small and worried.

  Garrett returned to the car and opened my door.

  “Nothing like an audience,” I complained.

  “I can send them away if you think that—”

  “I’m fine. It’ll be good.” I stepped out, rods in my hand.

  “Some of them have already gone down to the water. Stomping all over a potential crime scene like the stupid asses they are.”

  “Well, they have every right to be here. I just have to put on my big girl panties and do what needs to be done.”

  He bent down and whispered in my ear, “I’m going to get you out of those big girl panties before the day is out.”

  I turned away so the others couldn’t see my smile or guess about the blush on my cheeks. Straightening my spine, I cleared my throat and blew out a long breath.

  “You’ve got this,” he said.

  I nodded, put on my game face and put out the rods. While everyone watched and Garrett walked behind me, I stepped into the grassy ditch and followed it in the direction of the creek. I could hear the water rushing and a curious crow cawed his dislike at my intrusion. The rods remained still. The bank was covered in blackberry brambles nearly five feet high.

  “Hey, Garrett, we looked over the bridge,” Jill called out. “There’s nothing down there.”

  I licked my lips and followed the edge of the bramble. It was silly because nobody would’ve dragged a body down this way.

  “Could we drive over to the other side?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Garrett held up his hand to stop the questions that pelted us as we walked back to the car and then drove only a couple hundred feet forward. It was embarrassing. I should’ve been able to stroll right on past all those agents with my head high but there was no way I had that level of confidence. Plus, even though the bridge was small, it was still high over water and gave me the willies.

  I climbed out and started my walk again. Almost immediately I felt a tremor and the rods pulled away in the opposite direction of the bridge. The ditch was filled with runoff from the creek. At one point my right foot slid on the mud and water filled my shoe, but the rods were pulling. I followed a gravel farm road that crossed the quick-flowing creek. I climbed up the bank and stood on the gravel over the ditch. The rods crossed. I took a couple of steps forward and they uncrossed. From the corner of my eye I could see the clutch of dark suits that had followed along the road side to watch. There was complete silence when I backed up and the rods crossed again.

  Garrett was behind me.

  “Where?” he asked.

  In answer I walked back down the short grassy bank, where water flowed under the farm road through a concrete culvert. I shuffled down, pushed the tall weeds aside and bent to look. I caught a glimpse of a delicate white hand just inside the tunnel. Garrett put his hands on my shoulder and stopped me from going farther.

  “It’s okay. We’ve got her from here.”

  “In the culvert!” he shouted to the suits as he walked me back to his car.

  There was a great deal of scrambling then with guys popping their trunks and grabbing evidence bags and cameras. Jill stood outside Garrett’s car and stepped forward as he opened the door for me.

  “I can sit with her awhile, if you’d like,” she offered in a saccharine tone.

  Please say no. Please say no.

  “Fuck off, Jill,” he said coolly as he shut my door.

  I covered my smile with my hand but Jill caught it anyway and the daggers in her eyes chilled me more than my soaking wet foot. She didn’t follow Garrett and the others down the slope into the culvert. I imagined it wasn’t in her job description as babysitter of the dowser. When I looked up, I noticed something white fluttering in the distance. I squinted and leaned forward.

  “Shit.”

  I climbed out of the car and looked around for someone to tell. Jill was closest so I called her over. She sulkily came and I pointed up the road to a cluster of thorny blackberry bushes.

  “I think that might be a white ribbon.”

  She followed where I was pointing.

  “Holy shit,” she muttered and chased off down the road.

  A couple of the other left-behind agents followed her but she got there first. I watched her don gloves, whip out her phone to snap some pictures, and then step right into the thorny branches to retrieve the ribbon, holding it up as if it was a trophy.

  She carried it importantly in her gloved hands and placed it in an evidence bag another agent handed her.

  Then she came up alongside the car, opened my door and said, “Good eye, Julie.” And shut the door again.

  It was a big deal for her, I could tell.

  It had started to rain and the agents were pulling out tarps and canopies on stands trying to protect their crime scene. Garrett climbed into the car and was drenched.

  “Whew,” he said. “I’m done here. Ready for lunch?”

  He was pumped and it jostled me.

  “Why wasn’t the ribbon attached to her?” I asked. “All the other girls...”

  “It was attached. On the wrist. Just like the others.” He started the car up and blasted the heat.

  “Oh I guess the one I saw was just a random piece of trash?”

  “No, it definitely looked like the same kind the perp is using on the girls. Maybe a bit that got away from him while he was tossing her over the bridge?” He smiled over at me. “He’s getting sloppy.”

  “And that’s a good thing.”

  “Very good. It means he’s feeling the pressure and he’s more likely to get caught. We may even have a witness this time.” He nodded up the road to a large bungalow. “Guy up the road said his dog was going nuts around one in the morning. He saw a car stop on the bridge.”

  “Really?”

  “Unfortunately, all he could tell the investigators was that it was a dark four-door. Possibly older model. He thought the guy might be having car trouble so he was going to come out and offer some help. By the time
he got his shoes on, the car was gone.”

  He turned the car around and we were heading back toward the highway.

  “But it means he’s killing them sooner.” I licked my lips nervously. “Katie won’t have very long.”

  His mouth pulled into a serious frown. “Hopefully, long enough.”

  We were quiet as we headed back down the highway.

  “Where would you like to grab a bite to eat?”

  “Could we just have something at your place?”

  “Home it is,” he said.

  But it wasn’t my home. It was far away from Gramps, Wookie and probably from wherever Katie was being held.

  “You’re upset,” he said as we neared the city. “Julie, I want you to know that we’ve got literally hundreds of guys searching every clue and all the areas for Katie.”

  “I know.”

  But I felt in my bones it wouldn’t be enough, and now he was going to bring me back to his apartment and I would sit there and fret and pendulum dowse and let the quicksand thoughts and monsters creep under my skin like an infection.

  He parked the car and came around to open my door. He always did that and it was strangely sweet. I knew it was an old-fashioned gentlemanly thing but it made me feel weak. He grabbed for my bag.

  “I’ve got it,” I snipped.

  Then I felt petty and annoyed at myself because all I wanted at that moment was him and I didn’t want to push him away. The second the elevator doors closed, I dropped my bag and ravished him. I pulled his shirt out from his pants so I could run my hands up his chest and feel his warmth as my mouth devoured his. He met my need with his own and when the doors slid open we stumbled down the hall, not wanting to let our lips part. He kicked the door shut and pulled my shirt up over my head as I frantically wriggled out of my jeans. Lifting me onto the hard granite counter he lowered his face between my legs and lavished me until I was begging for him to enter me. As he straightened to his full height I locked my legs around his waist.

  “Please,” I begged and moaned loudly as he slammed into me.

  There was nothing tender or subdued about our wild and raw encounter. I wanted to expunge all thoughts of white ribbons, dead girls and Katie, and Garrett, no doubt, had his own demons to bury.

  Ultimately we both slid onto the cold kitchen tile trying to catch our breath.

  “Wow,” he said exhaling loudly.

  But I didn’t want it to end so I straddled him and eased his body to slowly respond as I gently bit his collarbone and earlobe until his cock became hard again. After another round of passion, I finally felt the taint of evil leave my tired body.

  “I was wrong about one thing,” he said afterward as we both struggled, gasping to our feet.

  “What’s that?”

  “Age does make a difference. You’re killing me.”

  “You don’t seem to have a problem keeping up.” I slapped his bare ass as he walked into the bedroom to dress. “And I mean that both figuratively and literally.”

  He chuckled softly then went to his laptop in the corner of the room and checked a few things before heading for the shower.

  I climbed naked on top of the covers of his bed and lay there languidly, fingers laced behind my head, trying really hard not to think of anything—particularly four dead girls and missing Katie. When he entered the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, he slowly shook his head and his eyes darkened with desire. He kissed my mouth then bent and licked a nipple.

  “Wish I didn’t have to go out again but I have to go meet with the medical examiner.” He began to dress and I enjoyed watching him move.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m never going to leave this apartment.”

  “Promises, promises,” I joked.

  He slipped a belt through the loops of his pants and grabbed a new shirt. He sat on the bed as he did up the buttons.

  “I don’t know how long I’m going to be,” he admitted. “This may well go into tomorrow so order a pizza or Chinese if you get hungry and—”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m fully capable of feeding myself. Just do what you have to do.”

  “Once this is done, I want to spend a week—no, make that a month—in bed with you.”

  That was a wonderful, marvelous thought that felt like a fairy tale. I didn’t pin hopes on it. He’d begun to mean so much to me and I honestly couldn’t say if that was real or circumstances. I needed to protect my heart.

  He brushed a kiss against my lips and then got to his feet.

  “Oh yeah.” He opened the bedside table, pulled out his wedding ring and squeezed it in his fist for just a second before he placed it in my hand. “If it will help, feel free to use it.”

  His laptop still glowed in the corner of the room and once he was gone, I set his wedding ring on the table and sat down with his computer. I began to look for anything that could give me an idea of where to start looking for Katie. I wanted to know who, for example, had given him hints about where the first couple of bodies were located.

  It took me only a few moments to uncover the fact that the tips had come anonymously by handwritten letters in the mail postmarked in Oregon. Who wrote letters anymore? The notes had been fingerprinted and the envelopes checked for saliva DNA but both revealed nothing. Although the notes described the letters, the letters were not in the file.

  I saw documents from the medical examiner’s office for Iris, Luna and Kari but it was too soon for Sue’s. In every case the cause of death was listed as asphyxiation. They’d been strangled and, based on traces of evidence on the bodies, it looked as though a common type of rope had been used. A long list of debris collected at all the scenes was itemized. Every cigarette butt and random trash from a single shoelace to bottle caps had been bagged and itemized. Reading the long list caused my eyes to twitch.

  There was a large document written about me but it was basically the same thing as what was contained in the folder on the coffee table. One note had been made that I seemed to have no medical records beyond a broken wrist and no dental records.

  If you’re not dead or dying there’s no reason to pay money for a quack, Grandma used to remark. Because there was no way she’d want a doctor taking a close look at the marks on my body. I didn’t catch many flu bugs growing up and the couple times I did, I went to school anyway. It was always better than being at home.

  A few things added to my file recently included interviews of Margie and Jonas. An agent had gone by and asked them about my character after I’d gone out that first time with Garrett. It felt like something that had Jill’s name all over it but Margie and Jonas didn’t have much to say besides that I never missed a shift and customers liked me.

  “Go me,” I murmured to the room. “When this is all over, I’d better get hired back and get a big fat raise.”

  Quickly I scanned through the rest of the document on Delma Arsenault slash Julie Hall, interested to see if Garrett had made any personal observations about me. Not that I expected there to be mention of my superior skills at lovemaking but the thought did make me smile.

  I was still smiling when I turned to the last page of the document about me. The final entry was a picture labeled Molly Arsenault. My mother. It was like a punch in the gut.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  The words came out on a gut-wrenching gasp. My lips began to tremble and my hand reached to touch the screen. The only photo I’d seen of her was when she was in her late teens, probably around the time she had me and ran away. This picture wasn’t that old. The face staring back to me was maybe forty years old but I’d recognize those pale blue eyes and that full bow mouth anywhere. I’d memorized those features years ago. There was a notice at the bottom of the page giving the last known address in the town of Marysville.

  Abruptly I got to my
feet. I rubbed my hands on my arms as if they were freezing and I walked in circles. What if she still lived at that address? I was breathing heavily and sweating. Forcing myself to calm down, I got a pen and paper and took down the address. Then I googled the address and Molly Arsenault to see if I could find a phone number. Nothing. I did a street-view map search of the house and found myself staring at the small white wood-framed house.

  That could be her house.

  There was a blue compact car parked out front.

  That could be her car.

  The yellow house next door had a For Sale sign out front.

  Those could be her crazy-assed neighbors who always annoyed her but now they were moving and she was relieved. I followed the street view down the road and imagined her walking to that corner store and stopping to mail a letter in that mailbox or catching a bus at that bus stop. I might be pushing the boundaries of imagination just a bit too far but I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to try.

  My mind ate up every visual and fabricated every scenario possible for a chance encounter. Eventually, I closed the laptop and rubbed my temples. As I sat on the edge of the bed a thought occurred to me. Garrett asked me if I’d ever searched for my mom. He asked and yet all this time he knew where she was! He should’ve told me about finding her last known address and given me the opportunity to decide whether or not I wanted to pursue it instead of playing God and not giving me the information. Annoyance pricked my skin and made me edgy.

  Now that I knew her address I couldn’t erase it from my head and I had no choice. I just had to go there.

  A few seconds of googling and I found I could take the 421 bus and be dropped a block away from her house. A ninety-minute bus ride and it was possible I’d have all my answers. I cracked my knuckles nervously. Garrett would probably not be home for hours. I grabbed my purse and paused. Jill mentioned that there was tracking on the phone they gave me so I took the cell out of my bag and left it on the counter as I headed out the door. I had no key and couldn’t lock up. Here’s hoping nobody would be stupid enough to break into the apartment of an FBI agent.

 

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