by Nancy Mehl
“Their hyoid bones are broken just like with the more recent victims. That would certainly cause death. But without skin and blood, we can’t tell for certain if it happened perimortem or postmortem.” He sighed. “My guess would be perimortem. My research into The Raggedy Man serial killer tells me he strangled them, but he never sexually assaulted them. Not the usual modus operandi for a serial killer. Same thing applies to our copycat. Taking their lives is the only thing he wants, but I can’t tell you why.”
“You researched The Raggedy Man?” Kaely asked.
The doctor frowned at her. “Of course. We wanted to make sure these deaths belonged to him. I wasn’t here during the time he was active, so I had to do some homework.”
“And you’re certain they do?”
“As certain as I can be at this point. All these women were killed in the same manner. We also found this in their hands.” He picked up a plastic bag near the skeleton’s feet and held it up in front of Kaely. Inside was a piece of metal. Someone had twisted a wire into a figure eight and then looped wire on each side, fashioning wings. “As I’m sure you know, the angel was never made public. Unless someone connected to the case suddenly decided to kill these women in the same manner as The Raggedy Man, which would take a huge stretch of the imagination, these bodies are his.”
Kaely reached for the bag, and Dr. Redgrave allowed her to take it. She stared at it. Her father had made these. Why? In all the years she’d lived in his house, she’d never seen anything like them. It didn’t make sense.
“You’ve got to identify these victims,” Kaely said. Her tone was sharper than she’d meant it to be, but she desperately wanted to bring some kind of justice to the human beings denied life by her father.
Dr. Redgrave studied her a moment before saying, “We’re doing our best, but even with everything we can do, we need someone else to look for these women. The police have searched every female missing persons report from the time they were killed. Nothing panned out.”
“Can you get DNA from bodies this old?” Noah asked.
“It’s possible, but if the victims aren’t in the system or no one claims them, it wouldn’t help.”
A sob erupted from Kaely. She’d tried to hold it back, but she just couldn’t. She turned to flee the room, but Dr. Redgrave gently grabbed her arm and kept her from leaving.
“We’re going to identify these women,” he said. “But surely you realize you’re not responsible for this. Your father is to blame here. No one else.”
Kaely turned quickly to meet his gaze. “How did you find out?” she asked, anger seething through her. Someone had told him. Who? Noah?
“I told you I did some research on Ed Oliphant. I saw pictures of his young daughter. Remember, I look at bodies all the time. No matter what you change on the outside, your bone structure stays the same. And ears never change. Yours are small—just like the girl in the photos. Your hair is also distinctive. Put that together with your reaction to these bodies . . . Well, it didn’t take much skill to figure it out.”
“It’s no one’s business,” Kaely said, wiping away tears that sprang from resentment. “I don’t want anyone else to know.”
The doctor let go of her arm. “It won’t come from me, I promise.” He gently took the bag with the angel in it from her grasp.
“I wasn’t going to take it,” she said.
“I know that.” The doctor leaned against the cart. “I’ve been in this job a long time, Special Agent Quinn. And I’ve seen a few things. Mothers who blame themselves after their child dies from an overdose. Parents who wonder if they should have seen the symptoms sooner after their child dies from an illness. And then the suicides. Plenty of blame to go around with that kind of death. The list goes on and on.”
“I assume you have a point?” Kaely asked. Her voice quavered, and it upset her.
“When things hurt us, our instinct is to find someone to blame. Even ourselves.” He took a deep breath. “My point is that a lot of situations are out of our control. Some people are so broken we can’t fix them. Like your father. He decided to take the path he walked. It had nothing to do with you. I believe you know this down deep inside. You’re a profiler, right?”
Kaely nodded.
“Then you’re aware of how this works. Probably more than I am. Your father betrayed you. Betrayed the life you thought you had. Betrayed your mother, your brother. Made you think he was one kind of person but turned out to be someone completely different. That kind of betrayal is devastating.” He looked at her over his glasses. “You know you have PTSD, right?”
Kaely shook her head. “No . . . I . . . I don’t know. I’m getting better. I really am.”
“Maybe you are, but it’s clear you’ve got a long way to go.” Dr. Redgrave took her hands in his. “Please, Agent Quinn. Get help. And quit blaming yourself. It will only cause you more grief, and you’ve had enough, haven’t you?”
Kaely pulled her hands from his and stormed out of the room. As she jogged toward the front of the building, she heard Noah’s voice behind her, calling her name. She ignored him and ran outside to their car, but she realized at the last moment that Noah had the keys. She slumped down to the ground and leaned against the car door as she sobbed, her body trembling.
Nineteen
Noah helped Kaely into the car, not sure what to do or what to say. He’d realized she was in trouble, but it was getting worse. She’d never fully dealt with her father and his crimes. And now all the emotions she’d refused to face were forcing their way out.
A few minutes into their drive, she stopped crying. Then she stared out the window, not saying a word. Noah almost passed a Chinese restaurant but pulled in at the last moment.
“I’m going in for some food. We’ll take it back to the hotel.” He didn’t ask. He just told her. She didn’t argue, so he assumed he was doing the right thing. He got out of the car and went inside, where there was a buffet. The woman at the front counter told him he could load his own to-go containers. He carried one box through the line, scooping Kaely’s favorite dishes into it. He carried it back to the counter and then went back for his own food. When he was finished, he paid for everything, and the lady he’d talked to earlier put the containers in a large plastic bag, adding plastic utensils, napkins, sauces, and fortune cookies. He thanked her and left.
They were just around the corner from the hotel. When they arrived, Noah asked Kaely if she needed help getting inside.
“Of course not,” she snapped. She sighed and turned to look at him. “I’m . . . I’m sorry, Noah. I really appreciate everything you’re doing. I’m sorry about . . . well, about acting like this. It’s embarrassing.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. Let’s get you inside and get some food in you.”
She nodded toward the bag he’d placed on the backseat. “Did you remember my crab Rangoon?”
He slapped his head. “Oh no.” Then he laughed. “Of course I got it. I’d be afraid not to.”
She smiled for the first time since they’d left the ME’s office. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Just as they were getting out of the car, it started to rain. They ran through the hotel’s large glass front doors and into the lobby. Then they took the elevator to the second floor.
On the way to their rooms, Noah said, “Let’s eat at my place. That way you won’t have to deal with the mess.”
Another smile. “I like that idea.”
While Kaely checked on Mr. Hoover, Noah put the food on the counter in the kitchen. When she returned, he nodded toward the breakfast bar and then the coffee table in his small living room. “Where do you want to eat?”
“The living room, if it’s all right.” She walked to the fireplace and picked up a log wrapped in paper. “Do you mind if I light a fire?”
Noah shrugged. It was August. Not cold outside, but he assumed that wasn’t the reason she wanted to sit by a fire. “Sure, go ahead. I’ll get the
food ready.”
Kaely unwrapped the log, placed it on the grate, and took a match from the container on the fireplace’s mantel. She struck the match and touched it to the log, which was actually made out of compressed paper. It immediately ignited.
Noah moved to the thermostat and turned down the temperature a couple of degrees so the room wouldn’t get too warm.
As he took the food out of the bags and got plates from a cabinet, he watched Kaely throw away the match and then open the drapes that covered the floor-to-ceiling windows and sliding glass doors that led to a small balcony. The rain and the fire gave the room a cozy feeling, obviously what Kaely was going for. Then she sat down on the small couch several feet from the fireplace. As Noah placed the food on their plates, he began to smell smoke. He stopped what he was doing and hurried over to the fireplace, quickly opening the flue so the smoke could escape.
“I’m sorry,” Kaely said. “I forgot.”
He smiled at her. “It’s okay.”
He grabbed the plates, along with some napkins and utensils, and carried them to the coffee table. Kaely thanked him, picked up her fork, and speared a shrimp. She dunked it in the sweet and sour sauce and put it in her mouth. “Yum. This is good. Thanks for picking it up. I don’t feel much like going out tonight.”
“Me either.” Noah took a few bites of his beef and broccoli and then put his fork down. If he wasn’t so worried about Kaely, he would have called the ambiance perfect. He still wasn’t sure what to do, but he felt like he had to say something. “Don’t be mad at me,” he said, as gently as he could, “but I think we need to go home. Asking you to do this is . . . well, it’s wrong. It’s expecting too much of you.”
Kaely chewed slowly and then swallowed. “Are you saying you don’t think I can do my job?”
“No, but I think you need . . .”
“Help?”
Noah leaned back on the couch. “Yes, Kaely. I believe you need help. I’m not a psychiatrist, but I had an uncle who came back from Vietnam with PTSD. He didn’t deal with it, and it tore him up inside. Eventually, he took his own life.”
Kaely snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. I have no intention of killing myself.”
“I believe you. But I think you may be suffering from the same thing. So did Dr. Redgrave. It’s not your fault. It’s something that happened to you, not something you’re responsible for.”
“I’m a Christian. God takes care of me. I don’t need therapy.”
“Oh, Kaely. Even Christians need help sometimes. You’re still human.” He noticed she kept looking at the chair next to her. What was that about? Surely Georgie wasn’t there now.
“My God will supply my every need, Noah,” she said. “I don’t believe in psychiatrists.”
“Well, if He supplies everything, why do you go to the doctor for your physical ailments? Maybe you shouldn’t do that.”
“I wish I had that kind of faith, but I don’t yet. Maybe someday I will.”
“But what’s the difference? If you need help for your body, why can’t you seek help for your mind?”
Once again, Kaely looked toward the chair. Then she laughed. She turned to stare at Noah for a moment before saying, “Look, you’re right. But you need to let me decide if I want to seek that kind of help. And if I do, when and how I get it. It’s true that this situation has knocked me for a loop. I’ve pushed back memories of my father for a long time, ignored the truth, and now it’s all coming back. It’s a lot to handle, but I really am okay. If I feel I’m losing control, I’ll get in touch with someone right away, okay?”
She reached over and touched his arm. “I really appreciate your concern. And, frankly, your analogy about medical doctors hits home. I hadn’t thought about it quite that way.” She gave him a big smile. “Let’s table this for now, okay? I’m feeling much better. Let’s talk about the case instead.”
Although Noah thought she was trying to change the subject, he wasn’t going to fight her. At least she’d promised to seek guidance if she thought she needed it. Maybe that was the best he could hope for now.
When Kaely got back to her room, she found Mr. Hoover sleeping on the floor near her own fireplace. She flopped down on the couch. Her room was a carbon copy of Noah’s, but the colors were different. His were greens and oranges. Hers were russet and blues. She liked her colors better. She slipped off her shoes and sighed.
“You should listen to Noah, you know,” Georgie said as she sat down next to her on the couch.
“And you shouldn’t show up when I’m talking to him.” Kaely glared at her. “I mean it. Don’t do that. If Noah had suspected you were there, he would have really thought I was nuts.”
“You think you are.”
“Why do you keep repeating that?” Kaely snapped. She wrapped her arms around herself. Georgie was right. She was beginning to doubt her sanity. She looked up toward the ceiling. “God, I need Your help here. You’ve brought me through so much, and I really thought I was getting better. I did pretty well at the prison. So why is this happening?”
Although she heard no audible answer, she felt a peace that not only surrounded her but flowed through her. God hadn’t abandoned her. He was here. He wouldn’t let her fall so far down the abyss that she couldn’t find her way back.
“You’ve been afraid to deal with this for a long time,” Georgie said. “You told yourself you were handling everything, but it doesn’t work that way. You have to deal honestly with God—and yourself—before you can really be healed.”
Kaely straightened up and stared at her. “How can you tell me something like that?”
Georgie smiled at her. “It’s because you already know it. You’ve known it for a long time. You just refused to pay attention.”
Of course, Georgie was right. This wasn’t the first time Kaely had faced this kind of situation. When she first became a Christian, all kinds of memories had flooded her mind. Circumstances she’d ignored, thinking it was the best way to manage past hurtful situations. God allowed them to surface so He could help her face them and find freedom. Noah was right. Dealing with her father’s crimes felt too big. Too painful. She really did need help. But she couldn’t let them out now. If she did, she was afraid she’d break into a million pieces.
“That’s what’s happening, you know,” Georgie said. “You can’t suppress the past anymore.”
“But I can’t. I just can’t . . .” Kaely tried to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks, but she couldn’t. “I won’t survive. I really won’t.”
Georgie shook her head. “You have to, Kaely. You don’t have a choice. It’s time. God wants to walk you through it. You think seeking help from a person means you’re not trusting Him. That just isn’t true. Ask Him to lead you to the right person. He will.”
Kaely stood, sobbing. “Not now. Not here.” She ran into the bedroom and fell on top of the bed, praying, bargaining with God for more time. “Later, God. I’ll deal with it later, I promise. Women are dying. I can’t face this now and help them at the same time. It’s too much. Please, wait until I get home, then I’ll do whatever You ask of me.”
When she finally stopped crying, she made a call, then took a quick shower. She thought about reading for a while, but exhaustion overtook her, and she fell into bed. She still felt God’s presence, but as she drifted toward sleep, a small voice from somewhere inside reminded her that God always knew what was best for her.
But this time Kaely wasn’t so sure. She felt like she was coming apart.
Twenty
Friday morning, Noah got up early, and after making a pot of coffee, he knocked on the door separating his room from Kaely’s. No response.
Last night he’d heard her talking, probably to Georgie again. He’d never seen Kaely like this. Last night he’d felt guilty for pulling back from her. For creating a distance between them. Had his actions made Kaely worse? His goal had been to protect his own heart before her recklessness cost her life, but he didn’t want to hurt
her.
Last night he’d finally been honest with himself. It was already too late. His connection to Kaely was too powerful. He’d lost the ability to walk away. He was hopelessly in love with her. But how could he love someone who could be mentally unhinged? Who saw people who weren’t there? Whose father was a serial killer?
And then there was the whole God thing. Although he was talking to God again—praying, pleading for Kaely—he still had questions. Noah had fallen asleep praying. He couldn’t quite remember what he’d said, but when he woke up, he felt better. Stronger, somehow. However, his concern for Kaely was still intense.
He knocked on the door again, this time louder. He finally heard Kaely’s voice say, “I’m coming.”
The door swung open, and she stood there in sweats and a T-shirt. “Do you know what time it is?” she asked, blinking.
Her curly hair was going every which way. Noah had never seen her without makeup. Frankly, she looked even more beautiful. Seeing her this way almost took away his breath. It felt so personal.
“Coffee?” he asked, holding out a cup, hoping she wouldn’t notice how much she’d affected him.
“You’re definitely the best person in the whole wide world,” she said with a smile. She took the cup and opened the door all the way. “Wanna come in?”
“Let me get my own cup, and I’ll join you.”
He got coffee for himself, and when he entered Kaely’s suite, he found her sitting on the couch, her feet tucked under her. Mr. Hoover was curled up beside her, licking his paws. The aroma of pungent cat food made his stomach turn over. It was too early to deal with those kinds of stinky smells.
“This is surprisingly good,” Kaely said, taking another sip of coffee.
“Yeah, it is. But I’m hungry. Why don’t I go down downstairs and get us something to eat?” The hotel served breakfast for its customers in a small room next to the hotel lobby.
