by Burton, Mary
Like now.
Bright moonlight filtered through the trees as Craig watched Hudson’s house. It was bungalow style with a stone façade, thick porch supports, and a low-pitched roof. The flowerbeds were empty but the lawn neatly trimmed. The lights in the downstairs living room were on and Hudson’s car parked in the driveway.
Night air, damp with humidity made the car’s interior hot. God, but he couldn’t wait for winter and the cold, dry weather to arrive.
Craig watched as Gage moved through the rooms on the first floor of his house. The cop had taken off his coat jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. He paced, as if waiting for someone.
Craig curled calloused fingers into a fist. Adrianna had never told anyone about her affair with Hudson, but he had known. One Sunday afternoon, he’d accidentally seen Adrianna walking hand in hand with Hudson. Rage had rolled over him like a tidal wave even as sadness banded his chest like a vise.
He hadn’t wanted to watch. But he had.
He had hated the idea of them together. And he knew nothing he could have said to her would have changed her mind about Hudson. So he’d gone to Margaret Barrington and told her about his chance sighting. And she’d done as he’d expected. She’d convinced Adrianna to return to the life she was intended to lead.
Now Adrianna was getting her life back on track and he was preparing to show her how he’d changed. This was supposed to be their time. He wanted to tell Adrianna about the women in the graves. How he’d killed them all for her. Now was time for all the secrets to be revealed to Adrianna and the world.
But Hudson had returned and threatened to ruin it all.
Bastard.
Craig glanced down at the gold signet ring on his left pinky. The tarnished gold band squeezed his finger, begging to be resized. Still, he loved the ring and all that it symbolized. He traced his thumb over the letter T etched into the top.
A VW bug pulled into Hudson’s driveway and rumbled to a stop. A young woman got out. Craig leaned closer, narrowed his gaze so that he could see better. The woman was Hudson’s sister. Jessie. A college student.
The girl hurried to the front door with a basket of dirty laundry. As she fished a key from her pocket, Hudson moved to the door and opened it. He took the basket from her and said something that made her laugh.
Jessie was a pretty girl. Her hair was too dark for his tastes but hair was easy to change. What he liked about her was her spirit. She was a fighter. A bolt of restless energy surged through Craig and his body hardened.
He thought about touching Jessie’s skin and of using his new camera and putting her in his next movie.
Despite the urge, he kept his desires at bay. It was enough now to know that he could take Jessie whenever he wanted.
And as long as Hudson left his Adrianna alone, he’d leave Jessie alone.
With the Thornton land nearly sold and the bodies gone, there was nothing now that anchored him to the past. There was only the future.
In his future he saw Adrianna.
Sweet, sweet Adrianna.
When they finally reunited, the moment would be so perfect.
“Soon, Adrianna, soon. One more actress to take my stage and then it will be your turn.”
Chapter Nine
Wednesday, September 27, 9:00 a.m.
When Gage arrived at the state medical examiner’s office, his eyes itched with fatigue. His sister Jessie had been running late last night and hadn’t shown up until after midnight. Extra hours at the hotel, she’d explained. “Can’t say no to the hours, bro. Money is too good.”
He didn’t like her working so hard. It was his job to put her through school, his job to worry. But Jessie had come wired like him and no amount of coaxing or prodding had convinced her to give up her job in the Madison Hotel’s catering department.
Pride welled.
Gage liked seeing her, if only for ten minutes. He was far too protective, worried more than he should, but he did his best not to let his fears show. And after the grave excavation yesterday, that had been a feat unto itself.
He rubbed the back of his neck as he moved down the tiled hallway. The place had a sick sweet smell that the antiseptic didn’t quite eradicate.
After he’d touched base with Jessie, he’d pulled out his files and notes on the Rhonda Minor case. He’d paid particular attention to the notes he’d taken on his interview with Thornton. In the bottom right margin of the notes he’d written the word Slick and had circled it several times.
He pushed through the metal doors of the autopsy room. Tiled floor to ceiling, the room had several large metal sinks with spray faucets on one wall and on the other metal counters filled with a variety of instruments.
A body, draped in a white sheet, lay on the medical examiner’s stainless steel table positioned in the center of the room over a floor drain. Behind the table stood Dr. Alex Butler. Across from him was a heavyset young woman who wore her sandy blond hair in a ponytail. Her name was Kate, Gage remembered. She was another one of Dr. Butler’s assistants. Apparently, it took several assistants to keep up with his pace.
Dr. Butler glanced up over wire-rimmed glasses as the door whooshed closed behind Gage. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Gage slid his hand into his pocket, annoyed that he’d have to linger in this room. “Sure.”
Dr. Butler, with a gloved hand, reached into the water and pulled out what looked like a second glove. But it wasn’t a glove. It was skin from a body.
Gage’s stomach rolled. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’ve softened the skin from a dead man’s hand in fabric softener. With luck, I’ll be able to slip it on my fingers and get a print.”
Gage watched as Dr. Butler maneuvered his own hand into a dead man’s skin as if it were a glove. He could see that Kate had set out an inkpad and a fingerprint card. She came around the table and gently guided Dr. Butler’s hand to the inkpad and carefully rolled a print in the preprinted box. She repeated this with each finger.
“Prints any good?” Gage said, glad now he’d only had coffee for breakfast.
“Looks like it might work.” Dr. Butler glanced at Kate as he pulled the second skin off his hand and dropped it in a stainless steel bowl. “Kate, can you get those sent off for me?”
“Will do, Doc.”
Dr. Butler washed his hands in a large galvanized sink. “Well, you were right.”
“How’s that?” Hiding the snap of irritation, Gage moved across the tile floor, stopping inches short of the autopsy table.
“Vega dropped off Rhonda Minor’s dental records about an hour ago. The bridgework and the fillings perfectly in my Jane Doe match Rhonda Minor’s.”
Gage didn’t feel any sense of triumph, only a grim sense of relief. Having a name for the victim put him one step closer to nailing Thornton. “All right.”
“I’m headed out to the Thornton estate in about an hour. Should start work on the second grave by noon.”
“Good.”
The doors opened with a jerk and Gage turned to see Vega. The detective couldn’t have gotten more than a couple of hours’ sleep but the guy looked bright-eyed and ready to go. He had a to-go tray holding three coffees in his hand. “Got that ID?”
“Doc just confirmed it’s Minor,” Gage said.
“No food in the lab,” Dr. Butler said. “Back in the hallway.”
Vega glanced at his coffee cups as if he were sending old friends away. “Sure thing, Doc.” He left, returned seconds later empty-handed.
Dr. Butler nodded. “Thanks.”
Vega shook his head. “You’re a hard man, Doc, separating a man from his coffee this early in the morning.”
Gage drew in a measured breath. “So you think a gunshot to the head killed her?”
Dr. Butler nodded. “I had a look at the bones last night. As you know, the skull was shattered by Miller’s shovel. I pieced it back together and it appears one gunshot entered her b
rain at the base of her skull and came outside of her right eye socket. She was dead before she hit the ground.”
“Tess didn’t find a bullet,” Gage said.
“No. Likely it’s lodged in a wall or tree near where she was killed.”
Vega rolled his shoulders to release tension. “No soft tissue remains.”
“None,” Dr. Butler said.
“That unusual?”
“Not considering the hot, moist summers we’ve had the last couple of years. Perfect conditions for decomposition. It’s impossible to tell if any kind of sexual assault occurred. I can tell you that her right hand was broken. It was a significant break that probably happened a few days before her death.”
“How can you tell?” Gage said.
“Signs that the bone was healing and starting to knit.” He moved to the top of the table where the body lay and reached for a saw. “As you can see, I’m backed up and I’ve just not had a chance yet to do a thorough workup.”
Gage shifted his gaze away from the saw. “Tess has called me twice this morning. She’s anxious to begin work.”
“So am I. I’d have been out there at first light if not for this autopsy.”
Gage noted the bags under Dr. Butler’s eyes. “When is the last time you had a full eight hours?”
Dr. Butler scrunched his face in thought. “High school. No, elementary school, I think.”
Adrianna arrived at the Thornton estate just after eleven. She’d spent part of the night arranging Frances’s ten ledgers in chronological order and leafing through the yellowed pages of the first and second ones, which dated back almost forty years. In a neat, controlled handwriting Frances had kept meticulous details of the daily expenses of the estate. Fresh flowers. Robert’s favorite wines. Art. Painting. New furniture. The only thing she’d gleaned from those first two ledgers, which spanned five years, was that Frances and Robert had expensive tastes.
After reading until one, she’d turned off the light and fallen into a hard sleep. The alarm had gone off at five and she’d forced herself out of bed and into the shower. After coffee and an omelet, she’d headed to the office, cleared up a few details, and then headed east to the estate.
As she pulled through the front gates of the Colonies, she realized just how hopeful she’d been yesterday morning when she’d driven out here. The house and land were sold and still the Thorntons had found a way to hold on to her.
The honk of a horn had her starting and looking in her rearview mirror. A Wells Moving van pulled up behind her car. She smiled, instantly relaxing.
Ben and Dwayne Wells got out of the front cab. Both were tall burly men—like father like son. Ben wore his dark hair slicked back and a goatee accentuated his full face. He had thick forearms and a chest that stretched under a yellow Wells Moving T-shirt.
Dwayne was in his sixties and an older version of his son. “Good morning, Adrianna. How are you doing after yesterday’s excitement?”
She grinned. “Excitement. Dwayne, I can always count on you to put a positive spin on things.”
Dwayne laughed. “I do try. Cops said anything more to you?”
“Nothing.”
“They came by and talked to Marie and me last night. We had nothing but good things to say about you and Craig.”
“Thanks, Dwayne.”
Ben held out his hand to her. “Morning. Good day to move some art.”
She accepted Ben’s hand, noting his strength. “Hey, Ben.”
“So,” Dwayne said. “You want the art moved to the auction house?”
“That’s right. After that you can get the furniture to Mazur’s storage facility.”
“Cops give the all clear?” Ben said.
“They haven’t secured the house and didn’t say I couldn’t move furniture.”
“Better to get forgiveness rather than permission, I always say,” Dwayne said.
Adrianna suspected Gage was just as short on forgiveness as permission.
“How long will it take?”
“These old pieces can’t be rushed and they are heavy as lead. I’ve got extra men coming in about an hour, but it’s gonna take time to move most of the pieces.”
With the graveyard relocation suspended, it didn’t much matter. “Sounds good.”
“We’ll do an extra, extra good job for you, Adrianna,” Ben said.
Adrianna returned his smile. “You always do.”
Ben grinned and lumbered into the house.
Dwayne watched his son move up the stairs. “He’s good at heart but he’s not the brightest star in the sky.”
“He’s always been polite and respectful when Wells Moving has worked for Barrington Designs.”
Adrianna had suspected Ben had slight developmental delays but had never asked.
“That’s good to hear. Marie and I are always drilling into him that he’s got to be polite. The guy is as strong as an ox and doesn’t have much common sense.”
“He lives with you? I thought he’d gotten his own place last year.”
“He did. It’s the apartment in our basement. He’s doing real well with it.” Pride shone in his eyes.
The old man loved his son. It was one of the traits that drew Adrianna to Dwayne. “He’s lucky to have you.”
A hint of color tinted the older man’s cheeks as if he wasn’t accustomed to compliments. “We’ll load the pictures this morning and deliver them to the auction house. If we’re lucky we can take our first load of furniture today as well.”
Knowing some progress was being made soothed Adrianna’s nerves. “And the auction house isn’t giving you any trouble?”
“Nope. All the insurance paperwork cleared without a problem.”
“Great. At least I can check something off the list.”
He frowned. “So what’s the deal with those graves? Freaky stuff.”
She sighed. “You’re telling me.”
A bead of sweat trickled down his left temple and he swiped it away. “It’s going to cause a lot of delays.”
“Has news reached town yet?”
“No. Hudson’s done a good job of keeping the lid on things. I was in the coffee shop in town this morning and not a word was mentioned.”
“Good.”
“It’s real good. There could be trouble when word does leak out. Some feel like it’s bad luck when you disturb the dead.”
The card on her windshield and the scent of Craig’s aftershave still had her unsettled. “Are you sure no one knows? Someone put a card on my windshield yesterday. It was an anniversary card and signed Craig.”
Dwayne frowned. “Damn. I’m sorry. Bad joke.”
“And it’s not funny. When folks do find out and start asking, make sure you tell everyone that I’m not going to be intimidated. I’m not backing down.”
I can’t back down.
“Some folks are a little backward in these parts. They have a few drinks and then everyone is talking tough. They’ll get over it.” He pulled off his cap and smoothed a gnarled hand over his bald head. “I do wonder about that Dr. Heckman. If there ever was a nut.”
She was a bit surprised at Dwayne’s appraisal. “He’s passionate about his cause. And I do sympathize, but he’s been ordered to stay off the land. If you see him, run him off.”
Dwayne sniffed. “Consider it done. I’ll tell Marie to do the same.”
Knowing Dwayne and Marie were behind her warmed Adrianna. These last couple of years, she’d been on her own. At times, she was terrified. But she’d grown up. Grown stronger. But when Dwayne or someone else offered help, she took it. Occasionally, it was nice not to carry all the weight.
“Marie called me and said the cops arrived minutes ago. They’re digging into that second mound.”
“Did she say if they’ve found another body or not?”
“She says everyone’s tight-lipped about it.”
“Right.”
“Marie says Hudson has arrived.”
“The guy gets around
.” She tried to keep her voice neutral, but the mention of his name tipped her a little off balance.
“Hudson reminds me of a dog with a bone. He’s not leaving this property or any one of us alone until he’s squeezed out every answer.”
“I’ve no doubt.”
Tess had only been able to grab a couple of hours of sleep after she’d left the medical examiner’s office. She’d been jazzed when she pushed through the front door of her small apartment, cluttered with books, magazines, and a couple of weeks’ worth of laundry. Tidying had made sense but hadn’t appealed, so she’d sat up until three a.m. watching an old John Wayne classic and eating rocky road ice cream.
Now the lack of sleep was biting her in the ass. Too bad she’d passed on the fourth cup of coffee.
She groaned when she saw the collection of cop cars. There had to be eight or nine. Crap. Didn’t these guys have work to do?
Gage sat in his car, his phone pressed to his ear. He waved to her but didn’t get out. She waved back, but couldn’t scrounge a smile.
“Hey, Kier, what do you think you’ll find today?” The question came from one of the cops. Brady somebody.
“Can’t say, man.” She called half the guys on the force man because she couldn’t remember names so well. She remembered the emotions cops showed at a crime scene. At a tough scene she could feel emotions rolling around her like the ocean, but the names were forgotten almost as soon as she heard them.
Dr. Alex Butler was one of the few she couldn’t read. A cool blank slate that didn’t give her a hint as to what was happening on the inside. She couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“So you think it’s another victim?” Brady said.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” That wasn’t true. She was certain something or someone had been buried in the spot.
“Any word on cause of death on the first victim?” another said.
“Nope.” She didn’t break stride as she passed them.
“Can we get a closer look?”
“Stay out of my crime scene.”
“Just a peek?” He was goading her to see if he could stir a reaction. “Pretty please.”
