Exposed

by C. M. Sutter

  “After all these years, I doubt if there’s any forensic evidence,” Clark said.

  I added, “And we know, depending on how long the bones have been out here, who that perp already is. The owner of this property is serving a life sentence at WSPF in Boscobel. At this point, I’d say it’s recovery and identification. We’ll have confirmation of the responsible party once we know how long the bones have been out here. After that, we can focus on identifying the remains. Agreed?” I looked at Clark, Jack, Clayton, and Billings.

  “Agreed,” Clark said.

  “Okay, that just made our job a little easier. We don’t have to tread lightly. We’ll have the bulldozer driver just skim the surface, taking off layers at a time. Pretty soon, we’ll be able to see the majority of the burial field. I wouldn’t imagine it farther than three to four feet deep.”

  “It looks like rain is coming,” I said as I took another look upward.

  “Not too much of a problem. It will initially slow us down, but it looks like the soil around here is pretty sandy. The rain water will filter through quickly.”

  The sprinkling began. I glanced toward the woods and was thankful to see Lena and Jason loading the bodies into the van.

  Dr. White scrolled through his cell phone. “It says on the weather forecast that the rain should subside around two in the morning. The ground should be okay to work after daylight. Shall we start first thing in the morning?”

  Clark nodded. “I’ll make sure the bulldozer driver is here at daybreak.”

  “Sir?”

  “Yes, Sergeant Monroe?”

  “Are you equipped to take a bone with you and test how long it’s been out here? It would speed up the process and tell us definitively who the responsible party is by the time your group is ready to begin in the morning.”

  “Sure, we can do that.”

  I nodded at Dan, who already had a number of bones bagged. He brought a bag over and handed it to an assistant. We said our goodbyes, and the group left for the evening.

  “Boss, I think we ought to pay Mr. and Mrs. French a visit.”

  Clark waved us on. “Go ahead. Meet me back at the station afterward.”

  Jack and I walked through the field and passed the house. Through the windows, I saw officers still milling around. We climbed into the cruiser and left. As Jack drove, I called the French home and told them we had news. We’d be there in twenty minutes.

  Just outside the Slinger city limits, we made a few turns and ended up on Liberty Lane. Jack pulled into the familiar driveway. I let out a deep sigh before we exited the car. The procedure was always the same—tell the family what they needed to know with as few details as possible. Manner of death would be foul play, nothing more. Parents never needed to know the gruesome details of their children’s demise—never.

  We followed the sidewalk to the front door. The porch light was already illuminated, and evening was upon us. The skies darkened, and the slow drizzle turned into rain.

  Lynn French opened the door when we knocked. Her eyes, swollen from crying, told us she had a mother’s intuition—she’d already assumed the worst.

  We stayed for thirty minutes and consoled the grieving parents. Deborah was their only child. They would need to make a positive ID even though her fingerprints had already confirmed her identity. I suggested they wait until tomorrow. I wanted to give Lena time to clean Deborah up so she’d look presentable for her parents. Their sorrow was already bad enough.

  We returned to the station at seven o’clock. Inside, Clark waited our arrival with a cup of coffee and a bag of chips. He rose from his desk, walked fifteen feet, and plopped down on my guest chair.

  “How did it go?”

  “As sad as expected. They’re coming in tomorrow to make the positive ID. Now we have to find out who the other woman was. We didn’t get any missing persons call other than Deborah’s. That’s leading me to think she was from another county.”

  “Have Lena take some pictures after she’s cleaned up. We’ll look through the database in the morning and see if anything pops.”

  “Got it, boss. I’m out of here. I’ll see you guys bright and early. I’ll tell Lena what we need on my way out.”

  Chapter 21

  I made a quick stop in the autopsy room before I left the building. Lena was busy washing down both women when I entered. I relayed the information from upstairs and told her I’d stop by first thing in the morning. The Frenchs said they’d call at nine a.m. to find out what time to come by. After a few minutes of updates between us, I said good night to Lena and Jason and closed the door at my back.

  As I crossed the parking lot, I pressed the unlock button on my key fob. A short chirp sounded from my car. Now, at seven thirty, I was finally heading home. All I wanted was a glass of wine, snuggly sweats, and a bowl of popcorn. I needed to decompress.

  Amber and Spaz greeted me when I walked in through the garage. My glass of wine and a bowl of freshly popped popcorn sat on the breakfast bar, waiting for me to dig in. I thanked my sister with a hug and told her I would be right out. I needed to get out of my work clothes and relax in something loose and comfy. I glanced at my bed as I passed by my bedroom. What I really wanted to do was put on those sweats and dive into bed. I’d drift off into slumberland without a care in the world and wake up to a sun-filled day without any mention of the name Sims. Of course, that wasn’t reality. I still had to call my old man. I was thankful for the two-hour time difference between Wisconsin and California. I’d have time to drink my wine and eat my popcorn before I needed to make that call.

  I updated Amber on my day and watched the news broadcast that she’d taped for me earlier. Max Sims appeared on the screen again in the breaking news segment.

  “He’s a scary looking dude, and now you’re saying he’s committed murder too?”

  I paused the TV. “Yeah, at least two that we’re pretty sure of. There’s nobody else other than Max that would fit the profile. It was his property, he never had anyone visit him, and Deborah went to his house only a few days ago, hoping to be hired as his housekeeper and cook. Instead, the bastard murdered her.”

  I clicked the play button, and we continued watching the broadcast. We still hadn’t gotten any calls for sightings of Max from when the first segment was aired a few days back. Now it made sense that we hadn’t had sightings of Deborah—she was already dead and buried. The anchorman mentioned the Washburn County event we would run beginning tomorrow. I was optimistic that we’d be able to identify a few of the remains in the field.

  I snuggled on the far left side of the couch. My wineglass with a coaster beneath it was within reach on the end table. I dialed my dad and put my cell on speakerphone as I placed it in my lap. Amber sat next to me, and Spaz found a way to squish himself between us. His purring told us he was comfortably positioned.

  “Hi, Dad,” Amber and I said at the same time when he answered.

  He chuckled. “Hi, girls. Are you two behaving?”

  “Absolutely not,” Amber said. “That would be so boring, Daddy. I can’t wait to begin at the police academy on Monday. That’s when I’ll start behaving.”

  “Damn straight. You better take that seriously, honey.”

  “I will, for sure.”

  I took my turn to ask the questions. “Okay, what did the doctor tell you about your knee?”

  “Just what I expected—surgery. Guess I’ve chased too many crooks over my lifetime and jumped over a few too many fences.”

  “How much downtime is the doctor saying you’ll have?” I asked.

  “The guy is a quack. He said a month off of work and crutches, plus no driving for two weeks. That’s impossible. I have to get around.”

  “I have the solution to everything. Since I can’t come out there with this insane case going on, and Amber can’t miss her police training, come here for the surgery. We can both take care of you.”

  “Nah—I was just there.”

  “Dad,” I said sternly, �
�that was at Thanksgiving. This is May. Almost six months ago doesn’t qualify as ‘I was just there.’ Your insurance is nationwide, isn’t it? I’m sure it’s the same as mine. The doctor that patched up my leg when the dog got ahold of me can do it. He’s an orthopedic surgeon.”

  “I don’t know. It sounds like a big hassle.”

  Amber piped in. “It sounds logical, Daddy. Just do it and quit complaining. If left to you, you’ll never get that knee fixed. Plus, you want to hear all about the academy, don’t you? I’m starting in a few days.”

  “So now it’s come down to this—guilt trips?”

  “Uh-huh. Please say yes. Jade didn’t have a lot of time to spend with you over Thanksgiving. She can make up for it now.”

  My dad laughed, and I gave Amber the shit eye and smacked her arm.

  “All right, I’ll do it. I have to schedule things first at the sheriff’s department for a medical leave of absence. I need that doctor’s name too so I can have my own physician talk to him.”

  “No problem, Dad. I’m so happy you’re doing this. Oh, by the way, we’re starting one of those ‘ID the Missing’ events tomorrow.”

  “Good. I hope it will help bring closure to some of those families. Okay, good night, girls.”

  I set the popcorn bowl and my wineglass on the kitchen counter. “I’m turning in, Amber. I’m beat. See you in the morning.”

  She gave me a loving hug. “Good night, Jade.”

  Chapter 22

  Max stepped off the curb and walked back to the van that was parked a half block from the coffee shop. After his haircut and shave, he sat at a small corner table in that espresso bar decorated with a definite hip vibe. A half hour was all he needed. With a cup of black coffee and free Wi-Fi, he conducted a thorough online search for Tom Monroe, his biography, and the personnel at the North Bend Sheriff’s Department. Max snickered when he found exactly what he was looking for. Tom Monroe, now a captain at the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department, had two daughters, Jade and Amber Monroe that resided in North Bend, Wisconsin. The search for Jade Monroe had brought up her photograph as well as a newspaper clipping from when she was promoted to sergeant at the sheriff’s department just last year.

  As he drove out of town and headed south to Boscobel, he scratched at the back of his neck where newly cut hairs had found their way beneath his T-shirt. He needed to update his father on what he had found out.

  The two-hour drive from Green River Falls to WSPF was still a bit shorter than driving from North Bend. He pulled into the visitors’ lot at eleven thirty. Max noticed a new gate guard on duty when he arrived.

  “Where’s Frank?” Max asked the young man that looked no older than twenty.

  “He transferred to Waupun. I have the gate from now on. Sign in here, then take a seat.”

  Max snarled. “I know the drill, kid.” He deliberately signed his name illegibly and took a seat.

  “Prisoner number?” The youngster’s name tag had Evan written across it.

  “450-A72.” Max grabbed a ticket for the locker room and a newspaper and got comfortable on a single cushioned chair opposite the other visitors. Five people were ahead of him, and he knew he’d be waiting at least thirty minutes. A small article on page three caught his attention. The headline read “Killing Field Discovered near North Bend, Wisconsin.” Max looked at the other visitors waiting their turn to be called into the next room with lockers to store their belongings. His eyes darted from one person to the next. Nobody paid attention to him, and most were scrolling through their cell phones. He was glad he’d decided to clean up his appearance—he wouldn’t stand out now that the unkempt hair and bushy beard were gone. Other than his height, he’d fit in with everyone else. His mind reeled, and he wasn’t sure what his next move would be. The four-paragraph column stated that human bones had been discovered in a field, and cadaver dogs had found two bodies buried in shallow graves.

  Damn it—the cops know those bodies had to be my work. They’re too recent. That bitch Sergeant Monroe will be looking for me soon enough.

  No names were mentioned in the article, which surprised Max. He was sure the cops had something up their sleeves.

  “Number thirteen,” Evan called out.

  Max stood and was escorted into the next room beyond the security doors. There, he had to empty his pockets and put everything in a locker. He gripped the key in his curled fist and followed Evan into the visitation hall.

  “You have an hour with the inmate.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Max stuffed the locker key into his pocket and entered the large visiting room. He sat at a small table next to Darryl and leaned in close to his father. Every corner of the room had surveillance cameras with live audio and video feed. He knew the conversations could be heard unless he covered his mouth and whispered. “The cops already know about the others.”

  “I’ll take the blame. There can’t be anything but bones left, anyway.”

  Max shook his head. “They found the recent ones in the woods too.”

  “How the hell did they do that?”

  “I saw a newspaper article out in the waiting area. They brought in cadaver dogs after the first bones were discovered yesterday morning. Somehow, they smelled the girls in the woods.”

  “Too fresh?”

  “Who the hell knows? There’s no getting out of this one. I’ve got to lie low, but I can’t stay at the cabin forever.”

  Darryl looked Max over carefully. “Good thing you changed your appearance. You might be able to hide in plain sight.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t hide my size.” Max paused and stared down at the table when a guard walked by. “Anyway, I checked out that Sergeant Monroe woman. Apparently her name is Jade, she has a sister named Amber, they both live in North Bend, and Tom Monroe is their father.”

  Darryl slapped the table and laughed. “That’s perfect. Where is the old man living, in North Bend too?”

  “Nah—he’s a big shot at the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department in California. The article said he moved there ten years back.”

  “And the judge?”

  “He’s retired, but his son, Antonio, followed right in the old man’s footsteps. He’s a circuit court judge in North Bend with a wife and two kids. Get this, they have a vacation home north of Green River Falls. What are the odds?”

  “Humph… I’m impressed. You sure know how to finagle that World Wide Web.”

  Max smirked. “I’ll break in while I’m in the area and see if I can get more information on them. I’m sure vacation homes get vandalized all the time.”

  Darryl chuckled. “That’s even better, but be careful. Looks like you’re going to have several problem-solving opportunities, if you know what I mean.” He winked at Max. “If the cops are looking for you, I don’t know how smart it would be for you to keep visiting me. You’d be easy to nab here. Get a post office box in Green River Falls. I’ll call your phone at four o’clock. All I need is the box number, nothing else. All of the calls are monitored, you know. We have to be extra careful.”

  Max fidgeted then cracked his knuckles.

  Darryl flicked Max’s hand.

  The guard called out, “No touching.”

  Darryl went on. “Focus, son. After I get the box number, I’ll send you a letter with instructions as soon as I come up with something. I’m going to think up a code to use so when we write to each other, even if the letters are opened, nobody will know what we’re saying. I’ll make up a code for phone calls too. Understand?”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  “Okay, don’t come back here. It isn’t safe. Only collect calls from me to you and coded responses. I’ll call Mondays and Fridays at four o’clock. Now go and be safe. Stay under the radar.”

  Max stood and stared at his father for an extra minute. He knew that might be the last time they’d ever see each other in person. Touching the prisoners wasn’t allowed, so he couldn’t give Darryl a farewell hug or even a handshake. A lo
ok of acknowledgment was all they had. Max turned and walked out.

  Chapter 23

  My desk phone rang at eight o’clock—Lena was calling.

  “Hey, Jade, I wanted to update you on the autopsies. Jane Doe looks to be in her early twenties. She’s five foot four inches, and her remains weigh one hundred fifteen pounds. Her hair is dark blond, and she has hazel eyes.”

  “Would she have weighed more, say, a week ago?”

  “Yes, maybe as much as ten pounds. Less water content, blood loss, no nourishment, and of course, the bugs—well, they’ve done extensive damage. Once there’s an opening in the body, as in a situation like this, the bugs move in quickly. Also, her face is smashed in badly. It looks like she was hit hard with something wide enough to do damage to the width of her face.”

  “Like a shovel?”

  “Yeah, a shovel would make sense given the fact that she was buried. Her teeth, nose, and jawbones are all broken.”

  “Poor thing. I hope that didn’t happen while she was alive. What about Deborah?”

  “She’s ready for her official ID. I cleaned her up the best I could. I sent out blood work on both ladies. Max Sims definitely sedated them, or there would have been more signs of a struggle. I know there were traces of Rohypnol in Deborah’s soda, but I have to do it the official way with blood tests for the records. Plus, we don’t know anything about Jane Doe. I’m guessing she probably has traces of Rohypnol in her body too.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you know when to expect Deborah French’s parents. Thanks, Lena.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I hung up the desk phone and looked at Jack. “Are you ready to set up the conference room for the ‘ID the Missing’ event?”

  “Yeah. How is that going to work?”

  I got up and filled our coffee cups. “It’s going to be pretty basic, I guess. We didn’t have time to print out official looking paperwork. I put in the ad for people to call the nonemergency department number and set up a time to come in. We’ll get all the pertinent information we need on the missing person, take a DNA swab from the relative, and go from there.”