Untold

by Nancy Ann Healy

  Alex sat on the edge of the bed. Her fingertips brushed the hair from Cassidy’s eyes. She leaned in and kissed Cassidy’s lips tenderly.

  Cassidy reached up and cupped Alex’s cheek. “Want to talk about it?”

  Alex shook her head.

  “Did you eat?”

  Alex closed her eyes.

  Cassidy sighed. She scooted over and pulled Alex down to lie beside her. Alex let her head come to rest on Cassidy’s breast and breathed in Cassidy’s scent. She closed her eyes, feeling the first bit of solace she had in hours. Cassidy’s fingers released Alex’s ponytail and played with her hair.

  “Tell me why I am doing this,” Alex said.

  “Because you care.”

  Alex sighed.

  “Talk to me, love.”

  “I’m not sure what to say,” Alex confessed. “I’ve seen a lot of things, Cass—a lot of things. Some things you never get used to.”

  Cassidy kissed Alex’s head. “I’m sorry.”

  Alex took a deep breath and tightened her grip around Cassidy’s middle. “We found something in the woods where Kaylee Peters went missing.”

  “Do you think it will lead to the person that killed her?”

  “Probably.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” Cassidy asked.

  Alex pulled herself up and groaned.

  “Alex?”

  “You didn’t watch the news tonight.”

  “No.”

  Alex smiled weakly. “We found two more bodies.”

  Cassidy stared at Alex in disbelief.

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Alex said. “They’ve been there awhile—a long while, I suspect.”

  “Oh, God. Do you think it has something to do with her death?”

  “Hard to say,” Alex admitted. “I think she stumbled upon something without realizing it. The question is whether someone else realized it.”

  “Alex…”

  Alex anticipated Cassidy’s next question. “It’s not going to be easy to identify them. I have a feeling we aren’t done yet.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’m pretty sure we’re dealing with a serial killer and Kaylee Peters was photographing his dumping ground without knowing it,” Alex explained. Cassidy felt sick. Alex kissed her on the forehead, laid back and pulled Cassidy into her arms.

  “You don’t sound surprised,” Cassidy observed.

  “Not much surprises me, Cass. Not when it comes to this anyway.”

  “You’ve seen this before?”

  Alex nodded. “Similar.”

  “I don’t understand,” Cassidy admitted.

  Alex remained silent. She could launch into a diatribe, but she knew it would be hollow. It was her job to think like a monster at times, to climb into the head of a killer. She had learned to discern a killer’s thoughts and actions, even a murderer’s reasoning and appetite. Understanding how someone could lack complete empathy; that was not a skill Alex had mastered. She knew it. She accepted it. She hoped she would never come to understand it.

  “I love you, Cass,” Alex said.

  Cassidy nestled closer. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be.”

  “Alex, are you sorry that you said yes to Hawk?”

  Alex had been asking herself that for several hours. “No.”

  Cassidy nodded against Alex’s chest.

  “I might have to bill her for Brackett’s lodging though.”

  Cassidy finally smiled. “Claire is here?”

  “Sleeping on the couch in the family room.”

  Cassidy resisted the urge to tease Alex.

  “No comment?” Alex asked.

  Cassidy moved to look at her. “Was she that bad?”

  Alex chuckled. “No.”

  Cassidy smiled. “That was painful to admit; wasn’t it?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Cassidy kissed Alex sweetly. She did know. “Well, if she gives you a hard time in the morning, bribe her with sugar on her cereal,” she said as she collapsed back into Alex’s embrace.

  Alex rolled her eyes. “I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”

  “No.”

  Alex laughed. “Thanks,” she said.

  “You’re welcome, love. Now, shut off the light and hold me.”

  “Is that an order?”

  “Yes, it is, Agent.”

  Alex complied. “Yes, ma’am.” She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind.

  “Stop thinking,” Cassidy commented knowingly. “It will still be there when you get up.”

  Alex smiled. She doubted that she would succeed in banishing her questions or the images of the day from her mind. She would try. If anything could help her to rest, it would be the woman lying in her arms.

  As if sensing Alex’s thoughts, Cassidy moved and gently placed her lips against Alex’s temple. “Rest, Alex,” Cassidy said. “Think about the good stuff.”

  Alex took a deep breath and pulled Cassidy closer. That had always been Cassidy’s mantra. “Think about the good stuff.” There was a lot of good stuff. Alex closed her eyes. Yeah. There’s a lot of good stuff.

  ***

  “Where are we going?” Claire asked Alex.

  “I want to talk to Donovan before we visit the M.E.”

  “You think her brother knows something?”

  “I think he knows that area. I think he knows Kaylee.”

  “You really think we’re going to find more bodies,” Claire said.

  “You don’t?”

  Claire shrugged and looked out the passenger window. “We will.”

  Alex nodded.

  “Toles?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You know, we might never find out who they were.”

  Alex had considered that possibility. At best, skeletal remains took time to identify. At worst, the victim was never identified. She felt sure that the FBI’s team would be able to give them the rough age of the victims, possibly even some thoughts on the cause of death. How long they had been out there? That ballpark might be considerably large. And, without a clear idea when the victims were murdered, it would be hard to cross reference missing persons. Cases took time to solve. Alex feared that time was not on their side. She’d made a call to an old friend; an expert in forensic facial reconstruction. She’d deploy any resources she could. All the resources in the world never amounted to a guarantee. One thing Alex was certain of; whoever killed Kaylee Peters had killed before and would kill again.

  Alex glanced at Claire. “That’s not an option, Brackett.”

  Claire noted the resolve in Alex’s eyes. She shook her head and looked back out the passenger side window. Alex was nothing if not determined. That was a quality Claire Brackett had always admired in the woman beside her. She’d heard her peers and her mentors reference Alex’s intelligence, her talent for seeing minute details that others missed, for memorizing a crime scene, and Claire had listened to more than one agent comment about Alex Toles’ ability to draw information from witnesses and perpetrators alike. It had been the former president, John Merrow who had warned Claire about Alex’s two greatest strengths; Alex Toles was more tenacious than a pit bull, and she was loyal to a fault. Claire had scoffed at those assessments back then. Then again, once upon a time, Claire had scoffed at nearly every warning she was issued. She’d had the chance to observed Alex at a distance and up close for years. She’d played the role of adversary and ally in Alex Toles’ life. In that way, she and Alex Toles were an unlikely pair. A slight chuckle passed Claire’s lips. It also made them a formidable team.

  “Something funny?” Alex asked as she turned the engine back over.

  Claire looked back at Alex. “He doesn’t have a prayer.”

  ***

  He groaned as he heaved the large weight at his feet into the large silver box—one more stop. He closed the back door with a thud and made his way to the driver’s seat. Coffee—he would need coffee to
survive this day. He pressed the button and watched the door roll up. With the twist of his wrist, the engine started and he pulled into the driveway.

  “Hey!” a friendly woman waved from across the street.

  He smiled at her and waved back, slowing so that she could walk to his window.

  “On the road a lot again, I see,” she commented.

  “It’s a good problem to have,” he told her.

  “I’ll bet business is going to get better for you now,” she commented. He tipped his head curiously. “You must be traveling a lot if you haven’t see the news,” she said.

  “I tend to like the quiet when I get home,” he said. “Sleep at home. Coffee and music on the road.”

  She nodded. “They found some girl out in Ashland-Pinnacle. Now, a couple of bodies down in Connecticut. They’re saying they might be related. You know; like a serial killer.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Sounds spooky,” she said. “Like a bad TV movie. The FBI is involved, so the police won’t say much. You know that means it’s bad.”

  He smiled at her. “I wouldn’t worry too much,” he said. “This is a safe neighborhood.”

  She smiled back gratefully. “Well, it’s nice to know we have neighbors to look out for us.”

  “Absolutely,” he agreed.

  “Well, travel safe.”

  “I will. Lock your doors,” he said. “Just in case.” He rolled up the window and offered her a wave. “Another detour,” he groaned. He glanced in the rearview mirror. “I hate detours.”

  ***

  “I don’t know,” Donovan said.

  “Think, Donovan,” Alex pressed him gently. “Anything… Think about anything that you thought felt out of the ordinary when you and Kaylee were out there.”

  “We haven’t been out there together in a while,” he told Alex.

  “I don’t care if it was ten years ago,” Alex replied. “When you were walking or camping, did you ever meet someone that just felt off? Ever hear something that didn’t quite fit?”

  Donovan shook his head in frustration.

  Claire paced the room slowly, looking at the Peters’ home with interest. It reminded her a bit of Alex and Cassidy’s house. She stopped and took hold of a picture that sat on the mantle. “Hunters?” she asked.

  Donovan looked over at Claire. “More my dad than me,” he replied. Claire remained focused on the picture. “He’s been known to bag a buck or two.”

  Claire set the picture down and looked at the young man. “Ever hunt out there?” she asked.

  “Once in a while,” Donovan said. “It’s a short season. Most of the state forest is closed off to hunting.”

  Claire nodded. “But not all of it?” she asked. He shook his head. “So, if you saw someone dragging, say a tarp? That wouldn’t concern you.”

  “Depends on the time of year,” he answered.

  “November, December?” Claire offered.

  “Yeah,” Donovan said. “For deer.”

  Claire nodded. “Ever get one out there?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “Not me. I was never very good. I don’t like killing things, to be honest.”

  Claire shrugged.

  Alex rolled her eyes and pulled Donovan’s focus back to her. “Just think about it,” she told him. “Anything out of place that comes to your mind; you call me right away—anything.”

  Donovan nodded. “Kaylee would say that’s dangerous,” he tried to joke. “Me thinking, that is.”

  Alex smiled. “Pretty sure my brother would say the same about me.”

  “Agent Toles,” he grabbed Alex’s hand. She lifted her brow. “Sorry. Alex… Those bodies—they were there; I mean when we were there? I mean, we were walking on them all that time.”

  Alex noted the fear in Donovan’s eyes.

  “Don’t sweat it, kid,” Claire chimed. Alex turned with astonishment. “Well? Listen, we’re all walking on somebody’s grave every day,” she said as a matter of fact.

  Donovan swallowed hard. Alex glared at Claire.

  “What?” Claire threw up her hands. “I’m just saying that he doesn’t need to be freaked out,” she said. She looked back at Donovan. “Listen, kid; if it wasn’t for you, no one would probably have ever known to look there,” Claire said.

  “How could we not know?” he muttered. “I should have been with her.”

  “Nah,” Claire said flatly. “So, what? So, maybe we’d be digging you up to?” she said.

  “Brackett,” Alex gritted her teeth.

  “Aw, Jesus, Toles, give me a break. I’m just telling the kid the truth,” Claire said. She looked at Donovan and smiled. “Stop beating yourself up. It’s not going to do you any good. Maybe is pointless,” Claire told him. “There aren’t any maybes in life—trust me. Just like there aren’t any ifs. If I did, maybe when,” Claire shook her head. “Did you love her?” she asked Donovan. He nodded. “Then that’s what you need to hang on to,” she said.

  Alex could hardly believe what she was hearing. Claire’s observations, while less than gentle in delivery, were honest and accurate. She surprised herself with her words. She surprised Claire even more. “Agent Brackett is right,” Alex said. Brackett smirked. Alex shot her a look of stern warning.

  “I feel like I should do something,” he said.

  “You are,” Alex assured him.

  “Doesn’t feel like it.”

  “Call me,” Alex said. “Any time at all, anything at all.”

  “I don’t want to bug you with some stupid…”

  “Nothing you tell me will be stupid,” Alex stopped him. “And, what you think is trivial might be the most important clue we get. Call me. If you can’t get me; you call Claire.”

  Claire shrugged again. “I’m always up.”

  Alex suppressed a chuckle. “Donovan, one more thing. If you come across any more of Kaylee’s pictures, any camera she used; you let us know right away,” Alex said. He nodded. “Good. If I don’t hear from you, we’ll be in touch.”

  “Do you think whoever killed Kaylee killed those people you found?”

  “I don’t know,” Alex answered truthfully. Claire mumbled something.

  Donovan chuckled for the first time. “She does,” he pointed at Claire.

  Alex nodded. “We try to keep her from thinking at all,” Alex whispered. “Safer for all of us that way.”

  “Yeah,” Claire agreed. “I let her do the thinking and the driving.”

  “What do you do?” Donovan asked.

  “Make her look good,” Claire smiled.

  Donovan laughed. “Thanks,” he said to the pair of agents.

  Alex gripped his shoulder in reassurance and followed Brackett out the door. She opened the car door and waited for Claire to claim the passenger seat. Alex took a deep breath. “You know,” she said. “You’re right. Maybe and if are empty concepts,” Alex agreed.

  Claire listened attentively, waiting for the punchline.

  “You helped that kid just now,” Alex said. “More than I did.”

  “Did you just give me a compliment?”

  “I just made an observation,” Alex said as she pulled the car out of the driveway. “Guess you forgot; I do the thinking and the driving; you just make me look good.”

  Claire stared at Alex for a minute and then laughed. “That must have fucking killed you.”

  Alex bit back a smile. You have no idea.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Alex sat quietly, listening to the FBI’s Forensic Examiner as the agent recapped the county medical examiner’s findings, and explained the process of trying to secure any DNA evidence. None of her information was helpful, and none of it surprised Alex. She glanced over at the long metal table that held a woman’s skeletal remains, wondering who she had once been; wondering who might be missing her.

  “No evidence that she was stabbed?” Claire asked.

  “If she was, it wasn’t deep enough to cause any damage to the bone,” Agent San
dra Eaves replied.

  “Huh,” Claire muttered. “But, the Peters’ case…”

  Agent Eaves nodded. “The injuries in the Peters’ case were extensive.”

  “I’d call finding yourself a pile of bones in a ditch pretty extensive,” Claire offered.

  “Can’t argue with that,” Agent Eaves said. “But, near as the M.E. could conclude, and based on my examination, whoever this woman is; she was strangled.” She moved to the table. Alex and Claire followed. Agent Eaves pointed to the neck area. “See that? It’s faint. It is a fracture.”

  Alex nodded. She leaned in and examined the hyoid bone of the victim’s neck. It was clearly fractured. Whoever had killed this woman had applied fierce pressure to her neck. Alex glanced over at Claire briefly. Claire had taken a step away toward the door. Alex groaned inwardly and looked at Agent Eaves. “What about the skull fracture?”

  Agent Eaves shrugged. “Can’t say definitively,” she admitted. “But, I think there’s a strong possibility that occurred post-mortem.”

  Alex nodded. “And, the other victim?”

  Agent Eaves moved a few steps to the left and pulled the sheet covering the second set of remains back. “Female.”

  “And?” Alex urged.

  “And? It’s almost impossible to say what killed her.”

  “Almost?”

  Agent Eaves sighed. “The only fracture is to her left femur. We both know that could have happened at any point. I can’t say with any certainty when she sustained that injury.”

  “Best guess?” Alex asked.

  “Yours is as good as mine, Agent Toles.”

  Alex nodded. “Any idea how long they were out there?”

  “Not my specialty, Agent Toles.”

  Alex smiled. “Off the record, Agent.”

  “Alex,” Agent Eaves softened her tone. “Wait for Daniel to look at this. That’s his field, not mine.”

  Daniel Lambert was a forensic anthropologist; one of the best the FBI had ever employed in Alex’s opinion. She was certain that his team would be able to ascertain a date for the remains. That would take more time than she had. Sandra Eaves had been at this for two decades. She had some idea; Alex was sure of it.