“Because of the rape,” Skye reasoned.
Josh traded looks with the detective. It was Josh who answered. “It goes a little further back than that. I told you Leo nosed around some. Turns out the folks who knew Frank best in his old haunt reported that little Frankie showed a dislike for the neighborhood cats. Any time Frankie was around, they disappeared in droves. It seems the little mental case liked to practice dismemberment from an early age. And get this. He frequently spent time on a farm his grandparents owned. He had access to any number of animals. God only knows what the boy practiced on while he was there.”
“Ewww,” Skye uttered. “That’s a Jeffrey Dahmer trait. A lot of serial killers started out that way on animals.”
“Bingo.”
“Wonder why Frankie-boy didn’t go all dissection on his victims here?” Skye wondered.
Again it was Josh who spoke up. “My theory is the dissection isn’t what gets him off. While it’s gruesome, this guy likes the power, the control of surprising a woman alone as she sleeps, ties her up, rapes her, then strangles or slits her throat. Maybe he bashes her face in. Maybe he takes out his trusty knife if he really wants to make a statement. That’s what gets him off. Killing and dissecting animals might’ve been what did it for him when he was eight, but not as an adult male with certain sexual urges,” Josh finished. “The way he treats the women makes me wonder if the guy ever had a normal relationship with one. I’d bet he didn’t.”
“You’re getting better at this, Josh,” Skye remarked. “A lot better.”
“Courtesy of very vivid dreams,” Josh said while taking the time to study Harry’s face. “If I were you, I’d check the same type of unsolved murders in and around the university during his college years. Skye’s already found two in Portland that fit the same pattern and MO.”
“You might’ve mentioned that, Skye,” Harry grumbled. “I would’ve listened this time around.”
“Good to know for the future, Harry. I kept my mouth shut that day we met with the FBI team because I could tell no one in that room wanted to hear about my half-baked theory. They didn’t think it was relevant that Bianca and Lisa lived only four streets apart, lived in identical townhouses with the same floor plans. I found the layouts on the Internet. Turns out, I think you should contact the detectives who investigated their original cases and let them know.”
“I’d say Frankie’s been perfecting his method for a very long time. He went to grad school in Oregon. So, I’d go all the way back to the area there and then around Stanford where he did his undergraduate work. The man considers himself a brain and superior to the rest of us, even though what I saw him do to Tracy and Julie was more like that of a wild animal.”
“Not just an animal, he’s a coward,” Skye said. “He sneaks in to confront a woman at her most vulnerable. Building up all this rage before the attack, then wham, he’s armed with a freaking knife,” Skye added. “What would make a man that angry? Surely it isn’t because he hates his mother.”
“Who knows? Who cares?” Harry pointed out, running a hand through his thinning hair. “Whatever it is, we have to catch this son of a bitch before he moves on. As Josh discovered he has the funds to fall off the map anywhere in the world.”
“Any idea where we should start looking?” Skye wanted to know.
“He hasn’t been seen at his luxury high-rise in over two weeks, which isn’t a good sign he’s still around. But Seattle PD put out an APB. It’ll be on the early news and we’ve got his face plastered all over the Internet. That’s including Facebook and Twitter,” Harry added.
“Then let’s hope we get lucky.”
Skye waited until they got outside the police station. When they were walking to the car parked in the lot, she stopped and said, “Okay, what didn’t you tell Harry back there? What are you holding back? You recited all the right things in there, even shared what you’d discovered about De Palo’s background, told him about Leo in San Caruso. But what did you not tell Harry back there? And why?”
Josh grinned. “I love it when the mind meld works.” He reached for her hand, kissed the palm. “When De Palo got fired from his job and got into MMA, he started training with Mick Hyatt.”
“The fitness king? Well. If it turns out Frank De Palo is definitely our guy and Mick is linked to him, the fitness guru might need to find a new turf. But Harry must already know about Hyatt. That isn’t what you held back in there, Josh.”
“No, it isn’t because Hyatt’s been missing now for several days. His wife reported that he left for work as usual and hasn’t been seen since.”
“You think Frank did something to him?”
“It’s entirely possible. Either that or Mick ran off with his longtime mistress. But there’s no evidence of that. The thing is, Leo emailed me this morning right before the meeting. He discovered the De Palos, Elena and Frank Sr., haven’t been seen or heard from in eight years. Eight years, Skye. They disappeared off the San Caruso scene and no one seems to know where they went.”
“Maybe they went back to Italy, Josh. Did you think of that?”
“For that long? I don’t think so. Think about the message we’ve been getting, over and over again.”
Skye stopped walking and turned to gape at him. “You think those are the bones in question? You think that has something to do with Elena and Frank Sr.?”
“Yeah. Are you up for a road trip?”
Skye cracked a smile. “If that road trip means you want to go to San Caruso and poke around Frank’s old stomping ground to find these bones, then I’m in. When do we leave?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Trying to book a flight out to little San Caruso posed a problem. So Josh leased a corporate jet to fly them down to the tiny town squeezed up against the Pacific Ocean. With less than fifteen thousand residents, they landed at the nearest airport which turned out to be nothing more than a landing strip. Most of the clientele seemed to be business travelers who either owned small aircraft or their own jets, or leased helicopters to fly back and forth to seven-figure jobs.
Leo Martin was waiting for them outside the one and only hangar.
The programmer wasn’t at all what Skye expected. For one thing, Leo couldn’t have been more than twenty. Tall and gangly, he had dark, chestnut brown hair that draped past his shoulders in dreadlocks. Two gold earrings hung from each lobe. Leo looked more like a drummer than a hacker. According to Josh, Leo had been recruited by Todd Graham right off the floor of the Underground Hackers Convention. At the time the sixteen-year-old had turned Todd down cold using the excuse that he’d never been much of a joiner. So Todd had managed to talk the kid into a sometime-contractor gig at Ander All Games.
“I spent yesterday beating the bushes hunting down former neighbors. I didn’t have a chance yet to drive out to the De Palo estate. To be honest, I didn’t want to go out there alone,” Leo admitted.
“I don’t understand,” Skye said. “Josh said you talked to his neighbors.”
Leo traded glances with Josh. “It’s a little complicated. The De Palos own about a dozen houses all over the county. Frank still takes care of most of them. Some of which he now rents out. But it wasn’t always that way. When Frank was much younger, the De Palos kept four homes for their personal use. I’ve checked out three of those because Josh had me focus on the ones in San Caruso near all the schools Frank attended, primary, middle school, and high school. But the De Palos main place of residence is located about twenty miles out of town in an unincorporated part of Monterey County where Frank spent his summers. And because the school district didn’t offer bus service at the time that far away, the family stayed in town during the school year so Frank could walk to school. I haven’t been out to this other place yet. Rumor has it the place is spooky. People tell me it’s been abandoned for years. I’m assuming that’s where we’re headed now.”
“You assume correctly,” Josh said. “And you found nothing in the other homes of interest?”
Skye turned to stare at Leo. “That’s a long time for it to be for sale. Is there something wrong with it?”
“Other than the asking price of just under three million? Not a thing that I could see. But the realtor pointed out all the De Palo houses share one unique feature, one thing in common.” Leo hid a grin, waited a beat.
“Unique? How so?”
“Where I come from we call them basements, but around here they refer to what the De Palos added on to each house as bunkers, huge extensions beneath the first floors. All the houses they own have ’em.”
“You mean like survivalists?” Josh asked.
“That’s the impression I got. Yeah. I did mention the De Palos believed that the end of the world was just around the corner, didn’t I?” Leo clarified.
“Interesting,” Skye noted as she and Josh started loading up the stuff they’d brought with them, like their laptops and the one suitcase they’d packed, into the trunk of the full-sized Chevy Impala Leo had rented two days before.
Josh crawled behind the wheel while Skye rode shotgun, leaving Leo to settle for the backseat.
Once they got on the road, even with the GPS, Josh had a difficult time locating the rural address. “What is it with this place?” Josh grumbled as he took another detour down one more country road.
“Tax records come up with a three-thousand-square-foot ranch house essentially out in the boonies,” Leo explained as he continued to refer to notes he’d taken and saved to his tablet. “According to public records, the property is like a maze to locate. According to gossip the De Palos did that on purpose so no one could easily find them.”
“Sounds like they were afraid of something.”
“I think the mother was pretty much afraid of just about everything,” Leo added.
“Figures,” Skye added.
“That’s only one reason the family was considered oddities for years.”
“I’ve got news for you, Leo. Their son is one for the books,” Skye stated matter-of-factly.
Josh drove for miles and miles, past picturesque hiking and nature trails among the rolling hills and mountains in the distance to reach what appeared to be an agricultural hotspot.
Skye pointed out several thriving farms along the way where strawberries or pumpkins grew. They drove past a field of purple lavender, and noted the apple and apricot orchards laden down with fruit. When Skye spotted a deer gnawing on a field of clover and grass, she made Josh pull the car over to the side of the road until the animal darted off.
“I had no idea this area would be so full of wildlife.”
“Well, it might’ve had a chance to flourish with Frank grown now and not a threat to the local wild kingdom.”
“That’s a sick thought,” Skye uttered. “But probably true. We must’ve landed in California’s fertile growing fields.”
“San Caruso and the surrounding areas for about a hundred miles to the north and east are nothing but small farms owned by individuals or a conglomerate of the big agricultural outfits. There’s not really an in-between. The De Palo family owns a sizeable chunk in several fruit-canning facilities,” Leo explained. “Hence all the groves around here.”
“Once you leave the coast, the hot Mediterranean climate and the flat valley coming together, makes for a perfect environment to grow just about everything from nuts to fruits and vegetables,” Josh said.
“But at this point, with everything we’ve discovered about little Frankie, this part of the county doesn’t jive with the sophisticated millionaire who lives in a high-rise condo, and pretends he’s better than everyone else. He had to hate it here where he grew up,” Skye said. “Even with all that money in the bank.”
“I’m sure that’s true. Frank’s probably ashamed of where he came from, wishes it were someplace else less country, and refuses to admit this is home,” Josh said in agreement.
With Skye reading the map and relaying directions, they finally turned down a dusty, dirt road that was indeed out in the middle of nowhere. They’d left the valley and the fields behind to reach the only house on the overgrown lane. A one-story, sprawling ranch-style house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac, badly in need of some new pavement. The house had obviously once been a showplace, but now required a lot of TLC to bring it back to the way it had looked in its prime.
Rechecking the address against what Leo had found in public records, Skye realized this neglected piece of property had to be the land that belonged to Elena and Frank De Palo Sr. and where young Frank had spent his holidays and summers.
Josh pulled up to the entrance of the sprawling estate. A pair of double iron gates and a rock wall blocked anyone from entering onto the grounds.
Josh wasn’t a happy camper when he had to crawl out of the car in order to deal with the heavy chain wrapped several times around the ironwork. At the end of the links were three rusty but sturdy padlocks dangling from the loop. He picked one up and pointed out, “The elements certainly have taken a toll on these. It tells me this place has been locked up a while, I’d say for years.”
“Someone wants to make sure they keep out visitors or the curious though,” Skye declared. “Want me to distract Leo while you make good use of your super wolf-like strength in order to get us past these locks,” she said with a bob of her head toward Leo who still sat in the backseat.
Josh dazzled her with a smile. He too, glanced back at Leo, saw the guy was fixated with whatever his tablet held onscreen. With that, Josh ripped the iron chain from the rusty locks.
Skye shook her head. “That nerdy geek I saved in the alleyway that night has turned into a man of steel. Avoid kryptonite ’cause it’s a power zapper for sure.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to find out what zaps my power for real.”
Skye made a face. “I didn’t mean…that’s a sobering thought,” she added and not one she wanted to dwell on at the moment. As they got back into the car to drive up to the house they both got a better view of the place.
Built in 1955, the De Palo estate had been designed with that atomic ranch look in mind so popular during the era. Skye could see the architect had most likely fused California flair with a bold Italian influence to come up with the best use of wood and stone. The long, low roofline, the steep angular eaves, all the glass, the boxy shape, and the two fat fireplaces at each end gave way to classic midcentury style.
As soon as Josh came to a stop, her gaze landed on the double front doors. For the first time since they’d arrived in Monterey County, a funny feeling crawled up her spine. It wasn’t the reaction she wanted. 1950s architecture aside, there was a “presence” here she could feel, almost taste. And she didn’t like it. “There’s something not right about this, Josh. I know the tax records show Frank De Palo still owns the property but it doesn’t appear anyone’s lived here for years. Why would his parents leave their home?”
“It’s hard to fall off the radar these days. I can’t find any credit card or bank activity for either one of them. Since both aren’t yet old enough to receive social security, there’s no way to track them by the checks they might be receiving at some other address.”
“Do multi-millionaires bother to apply for social security?” Leo wondered aloud from the backseat.
“Some do. Look, before we go any further, there something I need to know. Are both of you okay with us breaking and entering to get inside?”
“You know how I feel,” Skye answered. “We went over all this on the plane. I didn’t make this trip all the way from Seattle to sit in the car and wait while you and Leo take the tour yourselves. We need to know if your hunch is correct. If this is our guy, we need answers now, not wait until another five or six more women have to die before we do something about it.” To prove her point, she opened the car door.
For his answer, Leo did the same. H
e crawled out of the backseat. “I’m in. I didn’t wade through the dynamics of this little town for two days to sit on the sidelines now.”
“Okay, but depending on what we find inside, it’s a whole new ballgame from here if what we suspect is true. If it turns out there’s evidence in there that Frank started his killing here with dear old mom and dad, we’re all in it deep.”
“Look let’s just take one room at a time and see what happens. There are three of us. We can spread out and cover more ground or we can stick together,” Skye suggested.
“I say we stick together,” Leo offered, a little unease starting to creep in.
“Okay, but we still have to get inside first. And we’ll need a few things,” Skye reasoned as she went around to the back of the Chevy, waited for Josh to pop open the trunk. When he did, she reached in, unzipped the bag they’d brought containing their clothes. She dug around until she pulled out a flashlight. Skye looked at Josh. “You may see perfectly well in the dark these days what with having your ‘Lasik surgery’ and all,” she said convincingly for Leo’s benefit. “But the rest of us require a beam of light now and again.”
“You brought a flashlight?” Before she could answer, Josh reached over, yanked her up off the dirt and into a kiss. “I love a woman who thinks ahead and comes prepared.”
“Yeah, well, I’m used to perusing dark streets and I forgot the night vision goggles.”
He grinned. “Come on, I’m gonna try to find another way in.”
“Why don’t you just say you’re looking around for which window would be the best one to break?” Skye countered.
Josh took her arm and pulled her around to the back of the house. He motioned for Leo to follow. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find one that’s already unlocked or a pane of glass that’s cracked.”
Skye Cree 02: The Bones Will Tell Page 21
