by R. D. Brady
CHAPTER 29
Julie spent the morning trying to button up the house as much as she could—and trying not to think about the fact that Steve was just a few houses away. The basement, she knew, was probably going to be a problem. It had always tended to flood, even when there was only a mildly heavy rain. But she’d just have to deal with that when it happened.
By midday, she figured she’d done about all she could. Now she just had to wait and see what damage the storm brought. So after a quick lunch, she sat down in the den with her anatomy textbook. She told herself that if she was going to come home, she would be sure she dazzled Dr. Santorina when she got back. She was going to know general surgery inside and out. Opening her notebook, she set out to do exactly that.
It was much later when a knock at the door finally took Julie’s attention away from her textbook. She blinked her eyes, trying to orient herself. Surprise filtered through her as she saw it was already five o’clock. She’d been at it for hours, with only a few breaks for the bathroom and, of course, more coffee.
She glanced out the window and noticed that the rain had stopped. Well, at least we get a little break from it.
The knock sounded again, and she hastily got off the couch and marked her page before heading to the front door. She looked through the transom glass next to the door. A Millners Kill police officer stood there. Oh, no. Taking a breath, she unlatched the door and pulled it open. “Yes?”
The officer smiled down at her. “Hey, Julie.”
It took her a moment, but then she recognized him. “Russ?”
He reached out and hugged her. “I heard you were back in town.”
Julie laughed. “I didn’t know you stayed in town. I thought everyone from our class left.”
Russ dropped her back down. “Most did. More jobs on the mainland. But I always wanted to be a cop, and there was an opening when I got out of college, so I took it.”
“It suits you.” And it did. Russ looked confident and content. Julie envied him that. Russ had always seemed so comfortable in his own skin. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him flustered or stressed. It seemed like the right persona for a cop.
Julie stepped back. “You want to come in?”
Russ shook his head. “No, I just wanted to stop by, say hi. Tell you I was around if you need anything.” He shifted his feet. “Um, you heard Steve’s back in town?”
Julie nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay, good. Just wanted to make sure you knew, especially with the bridge.”
“The bridge?”
“It’s been all over the news.”
Julie had kept the TV and radio off so she could study. “What about the bridge?”
“It, uh, collapsed.”
Julie stared at him, waiting for the punch line, but Russ didn’t smile. “What do you mean, ‘collapsed’?”
“The whole thing’s gone, Jules. There’s no way on or off the island.”
Julie stared in disbelief. “For how long?”
Russ shook his head. “With the storm, no one’s really sure. It’ll probably be at least a week before even boats can cross.”
Dr. Santorina’s pinched face popped into Julie’s mind—his bushy eyebrows drawn together, his lips pulled down in a frown.
“Julie?”
Julie pulled herself from her thoughts. “Um, I didn’t know. My boss is going to kill me.”
“Sorry. But hey, at least maybe we’ll get a chance to catch up. Actually, that’s why I stopped by. A few people from our class are meeting up at Mel’s in about an hour. No one had your number, so I offered to drop by and tell you.”
“In this?” Julie gestured to the dark clouds above.
“Well, it’s supposed to not rain again for three hours or so. We figured we could make some use of the break.”
Julie forced a smile to her lips. Russ had been a good friend. She’d felt bad about losing touch, but when she left, she’d needed a clean start. She’d needed to leave everything from Millners Kill in her rearview mirror. Yet now, now that she was back, the idea of reconnecting was nice—kind of like being home was.
“Yeah. That would be great.”
“Okay, well, I need to get going. See you in an hour or so?”
Julie nodded, her mind returning to the fact that she was now stranded in Millners Kill. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
Russ gave her another smile and headed down the steps. “Great. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah,” Julie said faintly. She closed the door slowly, feeling numb.
The bridge was out. It could be as long as a week before she got off the island. Dr. Santorina was going to kill her. No, not kill. But he would make sure the rest of the year was miserable.
She quickly made her way into the kitchen and grabbed her cell phone. Before she lost her nerve, she dialed Dr. Santorina’s number. He picked up quickly. “Yes?”
“Dr. Santorina, this is Julie Granger.”
“Ah, Dr. Granger. I hope you’re calling to say you have returned.”
Julie cringed. “Uh, no. In fact, I’m calling to let you know I’ll be away longer than expected. The bridge is out, and there’s no way to get back.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, followed by a deep sigh. “Dr. Granger, your lack of dedication to your studies is disheartening. I had thought you had what it took to be a brilliant surgeon. I find myself re-evaluating that belief.”
“Sir, I am dedicated. This situation—”
”—was your choice. And there are consequences for choices. You will have to face yours when you return. Good day, Dr. Granger.” He disconnected.
Julie held the phone to her ear for another few seconds before finally laying it slowly down on the counter. I just ruined my career.
She sank into a chair at the table, her head in her hands. I never should have come home.
DAY 3
“This is Billy the Kid coming to you live from the rowboat I was forced into after my home flooded. Just kidding, but not by much. It really came down last night though, didn’t it? The sewers on my street were overflowing when I headed here this morning. Not looking forward to the ride home, either. A lot of people have already lost power, and roads are becoming inaccessible. And today and tomorrow are supposed to be the roughest days.
But those poor folks in Millners Kill are really feeling it. The bridge connecting them to the rest of us completely washed out yesterday. They are well and truly stranded for the next few days. Keep them in your mind when you’re thinking about how tough you have it. And stay tuned to KLNQ throughout the day for all your weather updates.”
CHAPTER 30
Early the next morning, Declan drove past the bridge. Or what used to be the bridge. His gut tightened as he imagined how bad things would have been if they hadn’t gotten the bridge closed.
The rain had come down ferociously last night. It had let up early this morning, but was supposed to start back up in earnest again later this afternoon. The lake was already swollen and encroaching on the sandbags. Declan knew it would flow over by tomorrow, flooding Main Street. Already, there were reports of high water on roadways. A few people had already lost power and Declan was pretty sure it was only a matter of time for the rest of them. It was going to be a rough couple of days.
He blew out a breath. They’d handle it. They’d have to. And everything was as ready as it could be.
The news of the bridge collapse had spread through town quickly, of course, but Declan was pleased to note that the town had remained relatively calm—so far. There’d been a few panic attacks that had brought people to the medical center last night, and then this morning a few fights had broken out. A few acts of vandalism had been reported as well, although Declan was pretty sure that was just teenagers. If it stayed along those lines, they’d be okay.
Keith had been unusually smart and put extra deputies on duty. He’d even arranged to have the one bar in town close early. The last thing they needed was a bunch of
drunk idiots banding together.
Still, Declan could feel something in the air. The town felt like a pot about to boil. It just needed a little more heat.
He rubbed his eyes and then took a sip of coffee. I’m just getting worked up because Steve’s back—and because I need to sleep more.
He turned up the volume of his radio as a call came through. But it was just a downed tree. He turned it down again. He’d been listening to it since last night.
Right now, he wanted nothing more than to go crash on his sister’s couch, maybe watch a movie with his nephews. Preferably something with lots of explosions and very little thought required. Picturing the boys’ faces, he thought he should stop for some donuts. Right, his brain mocked him, donuts for the boys. Not you.
His police scanner continued to call out reports, but nothing he needed to worry about. Maybe I’m just being jumpy for no good reason.
Then Dee’s strained voice came across the radio. “Chief, we’ve got a report of a 10-54 down at Millners Factory.”
Declan took his foot off the gas and pulled to the side of the road. He turned up the volume on the radio.
Keith’s voice came across the radio. “Say again?”
“There’s a report of a 10-54 at Millners Factory.”
“On my way.”
A 10-54: possible dead body. Shit. Declan threw the car into a U-turn.
It took him only ten minutes to reach the factory, but the chief and at least two deputies had beaten him there. He pulled in behind their cars.
A beefy deputy Declan didn’t recognize stood with his arms crossed just beyond the cruisers. His nametag read “Califano.” He was about five ten with a tan complexion and a nose that had been broken a few times. He scowled when Declan approached.
“You need to get in your car and head back out. This area is closed. Police business.”
Declan held up his badge. “State police—the chief’s expecting me.”
Deputy Califano obviously wasn’t sure what to do. He hesitated before waving Declan through.
“Where are they?” Declan asked him.
“Around back. On the edge of the water.”
Declan nodded and headed around the side of the factory. It had been a clothing manufacturing plant decades ago, but Declan couldn’t remember it ever actually running—which meant it had gone out of business at least thirty, maybe forty years ago. It was three stories high, and most of the windows had been broken—kids had taken care of that. Declan remembered breaking a few himself when he was in high school. In fact, the factory was a regular hangout for the teenage crowds, especially in summer. On the side by the lake, bonfires were pretty commonplace.
Declan stopped as he rounded the back of the building. The beach was about a hundred yards deep, give or take. Keith was squatting low over something wrapped in plastic about halfway between the water and the building. Russ stood another ten feet away from the chief, looking a little green around the gills.
Declan strode forward. “Keith, what have you got?”
Keith looked up. “You’re like a friggin’ dirty penny. You keep showing up where you’re not needed.”
“Gee, Keith, you keep talking like that and I’ll start thinking you don’t like me.” Declan glanced at the plastic. He could make out long hair peeking around the edges. “What have you got?”
With a hard look at Russ, Keith turned his attention back to Declan. “It’s the Ingram girl.”
Oh shit. He remembered Russ telling him about her going missing. I guess she didn’t run away.
Declan stepped closer and looked down. Elise Ingram’s body was wrapped in plastic, but the plastic had been pulled back from her face. He knew the Ingrams only in passing, but he recognized her. Her skin was pale and there was an angry red slash mark around her throat. Through the plastic he could see more blood. She looked no older than sixteen.
“She’s eighteen, right?” he asked.
“Just a few months ago. She’s a cashier down at Tops.”
Declan knelt down. The girl had been wrapped in a plastic drop cloth. Not that that was going to help them find who did this. Everybody and their uncle had purchased drop cloths lately, in preparation for the storm.
“Who found her?” Declan asked.
Keith nodded back toward the factory, where an older man stood waiting with his golden lab. “Frank Gerard. He and Shelby were out for a walk when Shelby started going crazy. Dragged Frank over here.”
Declan looked around. “They always walk here?”
“Every morning and afternoon. They got here later today because of the weather.”
“They walk last night?”
“Afternoon. Around four.”
“Which means she was dropped here after the time of their last walk.” He looked around and saw the dog’s prints, the chief’s, his own. He shook his head. Not that it mattered. With all the rain, any other prints would have been washed away already.
Declan looked down at the girl. Damn shame. “Anybody have it out for her?”
Keith fixed him with a look. “I think we both know who did this.”
Declan paused for a moment before he realized what Keith meant. “You can’t be serious. He just got back in town, for God’s sake.”
“And we haven’t had a murder since the last time he was in town. That’s not a coincidence.”
“Keith, Steve just saved three people yesterday. And now you think he killed someone?”
“There are killers who would kill their victims and then arrive in the ambulance to pick them up. Who knows how their crazy minds work?”
“So now he’s a serial killer?” Declan shook his head. “You have no proof he even knew the girl, never mind that he killed her.”
“True. But take a look at her. She remind you of anybody?”
Declan looked at Elise. Simone Granger had had brown hair, this girl had blond. Elise’s eyes were blue while Simone’s had been brown. “They’re both young women, but that’s it. They don’t actually look alike.”
Keith stepped toward Declan. His paunch bumped against Declan’s jacket. “Yeah, but it’s a start. And I’ll get proof. And when I do, that boy is as good as dead.”
Declan have him a hard look. “You mean arrested, don’t you, Keith?”
Keith smirked. “Yeah, sure, Declan. That’s what I mean.”
CHAPTER 31
Edgar Fundley of the Fundley Funeral Home wrung his hands in the doorway of the embalming room. “Are you sure this is all right?”
Declan had spent only about an hour at the scene—he was pretty sure Elise hadn’t been killed there. Then he and Russ had transported Elise’s body to the funeral home. Normally they’d take a body to the mainland and the ME’s office, but with the bridge out, the funeral home was the best they could do.
Declan grabbed underneath Elise’s shoulders with his gloved hands while Russ grabbed her legs. “It’s fine, Mr. Fundley. Russ?”
Russ nodded. They picked Elise up, removed her from the body bag, and placed her on the table.
Edgar let out a strangled cry.
Declan struggled not to roll his eyes. Edgar was awfully squeamish for a funeral director. “I’m guessing you don’t do the embalming?”
Edgar pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and brought it to his mouth. “No. My sister Adelaide is in charge of that. She’s out of town. I handle the personal interactions with the families.”
If only she were here, Declan thought. Out loud he said, “Mr. Fundley, I think we have it handled here. We’re going to store the body in the refrigerator when we’re done.”
“Yes, yes. All right. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” He all but fled down the hall.
He seems to be in the wrong line of work, Declan thought. Then he glanced over at Russ, whose green complexion had gotten only a little better. And he may not be the only one.
Russ took a few pictures of Elise. They had taken pictures of Elise at the scene, but Declan wanted to make sure
they didn’t miss anything. Declan took the opportunity to inspect the plastic that covered Elise’s body. There didn’t seem to be anything of interest about the plastic, but once they had it off her, he’d bag it for further analysis by the crime lab.
As Declan stared at Elise, he felt both sadness at her passing and frustration that they were cut off from the resources they’d need to do a full autopsy. He had enough training to do a basic examination, but he knew he’d have to send Elise’s body to the actual ME to get an official report. And that would not be happening any time soon.
“Okay. Let’s pull back the plastic,” he said.
Russ nodded and began unrolling the plastic at Elise’s feet. They pulled it back slowly until Elise was completely uncovered.
Declan was surprised to see that all her clothes were still on. The blood from the neck wound had spilled onto her top. Other knife wounds had gone right through the clothing, so clearly she had been wearing them at the time of the murder. But there was very little blood from them. She was already dead when he made most of these.
Declan looked up as Russ made a gagging sound. “Russ, why don’t you go get some air?”
Russ nodded and walked quickly down the hall, just as Edgar had.
Declan shook his head and looked back at the body. Just you and me now, Elise. What can you tell me?
She was still in rigor, but it was starting to relax. She’s been dead at least twenty-four hours, probably closer to thirty-six. He thought it was probably the latter, as a greenish hue had begun to develop along the girl’s chest cavity—the beginning signs of putrefaction. He’d do an internal temp to close that window more, but first he wanted to see if he could see anything that might give them a clue as to who had done this.
He paused. Frank and Shelby always walked out on that beach, twice a day. If his time window was correct, Elise was probably killed right after work and then the killer held onto her body for over twenty-four hours. Why?
Declan examined Elise’s hands. They, too, had been wrapped in the plastic, preserving them. He didn’t want to disturb them—he’d leave that for the medical examiner—but he wanted to at least do a cursory check. There were no abrasions, no cuts. So, she hadn’t tried to defend herself. Had she been drugged or incapacitated? He didn’t think so. She had blood on her hands—he imagined Elise grabbing at her throat after it was sliced.
