His Garden of Bones

by Vickie McKeehan

  “With breast implants cut out.”

  “Yeah, that detail’s been bothering me. Neither girl had implants when she went missing. That had to happen during their confinement. What kind of plastic surgeon does augmentation on fifteen-year-olds anyway?”

  “Some guy who takes the money and sleeps just fine at night because he doesn’t give a damn about ethics.”

  “But even a reputable doc needs parental consent for plastic surgery performed on anyone under the age of eighteen. If I remember correctly from the files, Carrie and Taylor were only fifteen when they went missing.”

  Harry sent her a knowing look. “That’s right. Not only that, but we’re dealing with someone who gave them belly rings, tongue studs, and tattoos they didn’t have when they disappeared.”

  “Which might indicate that we’re dealing with a sex trafficker who sold them to a buyer. In turn, the buyer used them during the years they were gone, kept them in captivity, and then discarded them when he got tired of whatever they were doing to aggravate him. The bastard obviously wanted his girls to sport bigger boobs. What I can’t figure out is why insist they get the implants in the first place and then cut them out? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Carrie and Taylor went missing a week apart. And then two years go by before they turn up dead a week apart. It’s odd.”

  “Odd is an understatement. It makes no sense,” Skye repeated.

  “But then what about this business ever does? When you figure it out, be sure to let me know. As soon as I get this piece of shit that took Gwen booked and caged, I’m heading straight to U-Village. Meet me there.”

  Skye’s shoulders drooped with fatigue. She’d been picturing her king-size bed back at home and how much she wanted to get to know it better. “And you’re telling me this why? I have a bad feeling I already know.”

  “I want you there to see the crime scene firsthand this time around instead of just studying the photos.”

  Reluctantly she conceded it was true. “It’s always better to see the real thing instead of photographs after the fact. Sure, I’ll do it, but I promised Gwen I’d go with her to—”

  “Then you should stay with her. While I’m doing the paperwork on Brantley, you spend some time with Gwen. Make her feel as comfortable as possible until her family gets to Harborview. Then we’ll meet up at the crime scene. Here’s the location.” Harry held out his phone with the map already displayed onscreen.

  Skye peered over, keyed in the info into her own phone for later. “Why not? With Josh out of town I’ve got nothing better to do than walk the streets at night and stay up twenty-four/seven without getting my beauty sleep.”

  Harry smiled again. “Josh must hate missing all this fun. When’s the hubby due back anyway?”

  “End of the week. These gamer conventions are a pain sometimes. This one’s in New York, downtown Manhattan at the ritzy Belmont.”

  “Has the fact that you’re married to an oversized kid escaped you?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Isn’t his new game featuring the hot, female, crime-fighting warrior debuting for real at this swanky event?”

  Skye stifled a chuckle and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, for some reason it’s his pride and joy. You and Elizabeth are coming to our Christmas party, right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. The wife’s already bought a fancy dress. You know I’m giving up my badge for good at the end of the month. The thirty-first is officially my last day.”

  “So you’ve been saying for the last two years. If it’s for real this time think of the party as a retirement bash. What will you do with all that time on your hands? Have you thought of that?”

  “Sleep late, eat regular meals, maybe exercise. The wife’s been bugging me about getting on the treadmill again. Maybe I’ll try to eliminate the stress in my life.”

  This time, Skye laughed out loud. “Yeah. Right. Maybe in your dreams. Something tells me you have a very skewed view of retirement. I don’t see you sitting around collecting a pension.”

  “I’m tired, Skye, fed up with the job.”

  “I hear ya. Oh look, the paramedics are loading Gwen up. I gotta go. See you in a couple hours.”

  Almost two hours later, Skye walked out of the ER and headed for her Subaru. Kiya and Atka were waiting for her next to the car.

  She gave Kiya a stern look and said, “Nice trick, but you guys were supposed to go home. I’ll be fine.”

  Kiya responded by nudging Skye’s hand while Atka simply began licking all ten fingers. “Food and treats are at home, guys. Go home.” When both animals refused to budge, Skye added, “Okay, okay, you’re both trying to tell me something. I get it. But I’m headed to a secure area where cops will be everywhere. There’s no point overreacting and worrying about me for no reason.”

  Her cell phone dinged. The readout let her know it was Josh. She shook her head at the timing certain it wasn’t a coincidence—another worrywart to deal with. At times his innate connection to Kiya could be eerie at most, exasperating at the very least. But then what did she expect after his life-changing transformation? After putting him in harm’s way, she couldn’t really complain about his link to Kiya.

  On the other end of the line Josh warned his wife as if he’d been eavesdropping on her debate with Kiya and Atka. “Hey beautiful, listen to the mutts. They’re usually right.”

  “It’s maddening to know you heard that conversation from three thousand miles away.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far but I worry. Besides, I find it incredibly sexy. Now if I could only see what you’re wearing. I’m working on that. Although I have this tendency to picture you naked.”

  She burst out laughing, the tension of the day falling away. “I can’t not go to the crime scene, Josh. Harry wants me to check it out for myself, give him my take. I said I’d do it. I can’t back out now.”

  “You’ve got to be exhausted after searching all day for the DeLargo girl. The abduction made the Seattle newscast, which I make a habit of checking any time I go out of town. Finding Gwen, your rescue story, it already hit the Internet.”

  “How do they do that, upload the story so fast? If you read about it then you know I took care of the guy by myself. I’m just glad it’s over and Gwen’s alive. The upside is that finding Gwen made her parents elated with relief.”

  “You handled the guy like I would have. Look, I miss you. I should’ve let Todd try his hand at a presentation and stayed put in Seattle.”

  “Yeah. Right. I can see Todd standing up on stage in front of nine hundred people doing just that. Not. You did the right thing to go and take care of Ander All Games.”

  “Maybe I’ll come home early and we can celebrate the phenomenal success of the new game. It is, you know, incredibly successful.”

  “With you at the helm of course it is. But don’t leave your fun on my account. I’m fine despite what Kiya and Atka are trying to tell you from a distance. I can always call Travis, even though he does have a new woman in his life.”

  “Your father is seeing someone? When did that happen? Have you met her yet?”

  “He is, and no, I haven’t met her yet but we’re invited to the ranch on Sunday. I suspect she’ll be there. Her name’s Chenoa Starr.”

  “Pretty name.”

  “Really? You think so? You don’t think it sounds like it belongs to a stripper?”

  “Maybe a little. How’d they meet? Travis never goes anywhere much unless it concerns business, you, or his horses.”

  “Bingo. Chenoa bought one of his mares. I think he’s smitten, Josh. For the past week, he never shuts up about the woman.”

  “Ah. Don’t worry. We’ll meet her, grill her for any ulterior motives and then decide if we like her enough to let her near Travis.”

  She laughed again, beginning to miss him even more. “I guess I had this hope in the back of my mind that one day he’d hook up with Lena Bowers.”

  “Lena? I know she’s been like a mom to you since you cam
e to Seattle. I’m sorry. I guess we don’t always get what we want.”

  “I know. I love you. I gotta go.”

  “I love you, too. I’ll say it again… Listen to the mutts. They must be picking up on something. I’m able to do the same all the way from here. They’re wary of the situation for a reason.”

  “Stop worrying about me. It has to be five a.m. there in New York. You might think of yourself as part wolf but you still require sleep like a human before the big demo in the morning.”

  “I always worry about you regardless of where I am.”

  “I know. I love you, Josh Ander.”

  “I love you too, Skye Cree. Take care. I’ll see you on Friday.”

  Skye hung up with a heavy heart. No doubt about it, she missed Josh. To Kiya and Atka, she pointed a finger and said, “Okay, you’re both allowed to come with me but only if you stop sending out an SOS to Josh. And Atka stays in the car. She’s still too much of a puppy and jumpy to be allowed near evidence that needs bagging and tagging.”

  She pushed the key into the door lock and muttered to Kiya, “And keeping you penned up is a total waste of time, impossible to do. But I don’t want you out wandering around, got it?”

  Typically, the wolf ignored her.

  Skye beat Harry to University Village by ten minutes. The fashionable, upscale mall near the University of Washington made for a strange place to dump a body—especially for the potential serial killer they thought was on the loose. The crime scene techs and the coroner must have thought so too because they were still hard at work taking measurements and photos when Skye walked up to the area roped off by yellow tape.

  The area was different than what Harry had described to her earlier. For one, the place wasn’t an alleyway at all but rather a small stretch of undeveloped right of way, a short twenty yards from the front door of the nearest shop.

  Unlit, but adjacent to the parking lot, the locale might play into their guy’s previous disposal method. If this was the same dude, he’d left his two previous victims in a wild, bramble-filled dump ground bordered by I-5 and Beacon Hill known as The Jungle.

  She wasn’t ready yet to accept that he might’ve made the jump to a retail shopping outlet. That is, until she spotted the handy hedge that could easily hide his unloading a body out of his car.

  Skye ducked under the tape and took up a stance near a band of shrubs high enough to block out what was happening on the other side. She made her way around bog and huckleberry, even caught strands of her hair in a tall vine of some kind. After getting her hair out of the mess, she got close enough to the woman’s naked body to realize the young victim hadn’t been killed here. Keeping her distance to six feet, she guessed the woman’s age at probably no older than twenty.

  The victim’s ashen face had been left battered and bruised, her throat marred by deep purple crevices, her naked body mutilated.

  She was still studying the face while fighting a wave of nausea when Harry interrupted her train of thought.

  “Most of the shops around here closed up at nine o’clock, some even earlier at eight. We’re lucky the jogger decided to go for a run when he did. Otherwise the body would’ve been out here longer. By the time he happened along, the parking lot had pretty much cleared out.”

  She took a couple steps closer to the body, swallowed hard as she tried to count the stab wounds. She gave up after ten. But it was the condition of her breasts that sickened Skye the most. Both had been mutilated beyond reason.

  “What you’re saying is that the body hadn’t been here for that long, another hurried drop and dump. Is this the runner’s regular route?” Skye wondered aloud.

  Harry went over the notes from the first cop who’d arrived on the scene. “Yep. Jogger works third shift and says he routinely runs along here three times a week before clocking in at his job at midnight. He made the 911 call at three minutes after ten. What are you thinking?”

  “That our killer didn’t have a lot of time to select the best dump site. He went with whatever was handy. Tonight it happened to be near the local shopping center and a jogger happened along soon after.” Skye caught the attention of the medical examiner, Roger Bayliss.

  She sidled up to the fifty-six-year-old man known far and wide to be a grumpy old man. “How long do you think she’s been dead?”

  Roger Bayliss gave her an unsympathetic look without bothering to answer.

  Knowing she wasn’t exactly dealing with a people-person, she huffed out, “Okay, I’ll play. Best guess, maybe under six hours.”

  “Do you see an autopsy table here?” Bayliss snapped. “Maybe if I didn’t have to stop and answer stupid questions every time something pops into a cop’s head, or yours, I could get a little work done in the field. In case you haven’t realized it yet, it’s three in the morning.”

  Unruffled at the doctor’s surly attitude, Skye leveled her voice as she pointed out, “Look, I’ve been on my feet all day looking for Gwen DeLargo. You know her, right? The girl abducted from another mall some twelve-plus hours ago. I found her tonight with a sleazy pervert who’d spent hours raping her. Harry dragged me here when what I really wanted to do was go home and crash. So before you get your panties in a twist, I’d like to be able to gain something for my efforts. Knowing when she died would help. Maybe because the family of this woman deserves a clue what happened to their daughter, or sister, or…”

  “Knock off the sob story, Cree,” Bayliss retorted in a huff. “I get it. You were close when you estimated six. I’d say this one’s probably been dead no longer than eight hours tops. After he stabbed her multiple times, she lived through that ordeal before he removed her breast implants. I can tell you she probably bled to death from the mutilation—somewhere else. That’s my assessment in a nutshell.”

  Another wave of nausea hit Skye at the idea the young woman had been alive while the killer had cut out her implants. She shot a look over at Harry. “Okay, so it fits with the other two. That connects the three victims to one killer.”

  “Yeah, plus it’s something we held back from the media,” Harry added with a nod. “Reporters don’t know about the mutilation and removal of the breast implants and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “That’s fine by me,” Skye muttered under her breath. “Both Carrie Montague and Taylor Dinsmore went missing when they were fifteen. Both families gave DNA in hopes of a future match. Both girls were listed at the foundation.”

  “And? Our guy must have cut out the implants because he knew they could be used to ID his victims.”

  Skye wasn’t so sure. She chewed her lip while still trying to figure out the puzzle. “Why go to the trouble of putting them in and then brutally hack them out? As I recall Bayliss didn’t even need the implants for ID purposes with Carrie and Taylor because he used dental records along with the DNA the families provided. So why cut out implants the killer obviously wanted them to have?”

  “Because he’s a sick bastard,” Harry muttered.

  “That goes without saying. But there has to be more to it than that, another reason we haven’t figured out yet.” Clearly stumped, Skye suddenly snapped her fingers as a realization dawned. She took two steps back toward the body and stared. “That’s it, I knew this girl looked familiar. That’s Lisa Williams. She went missing four years ago on a trip to the lake with a group of friends. She was sixteen at the time. I have her photograph still tacked up on the wall at the Artemis Foundation.”

  Bayliss overheard the claim. “Come on. You can’t be serious? There’s no possible way you could make an ID to her face when it’s ashen and lifeless like it is now.”

  Harry was just as skeptical. “Skye, are you certain you remember the face? Lisa had to have changed quite a bit from a teenager to a young woman.”

  Skye nodded even though the purple streaks in the victim’s hair did cause a chink to form, although it wasn’t enough to dissuade her. “Sure, Lisa’s looks have changed during those key years. But her mother made sure I
had Lisa’s sophomore picture from high school tacked up on my board alongside the age-progressed photo Mrs. Williams had done. I’ve stared at both images over the years to recognize that face. Still don’t believe me? Then how about this? Lisa had the same jet-black hair and a very distinctive almond shape to her eyes. Then there’s the unusual slope of her nose. This victim has all three characteristics. See? Try to look beyond the dye-job.” Skye stepped even closer to point out the features in question. “I’m telling you this hacked up mess belongs to the missing Lisa Williams.”

  Bayliss stared at Harry. “I hate to admit it, but Cree sometimes gets it right. There are times when she does know her stuff.”

  Harry’s mouth tightened. “So girls who disappeared from the area years earlier are now turning up dead, getting dumped like trash now after having their breasts made bigger? Why?”

  “Cut out, the girls no longer have the implants because he cut them out. Changed his mind maybe? I don’t know. The girls grew into women, women who were no longer attractive to the pervert for some reason. One thing’s for certain. He didn’t want these girls around any longer and did something about it. It’s like he wanted us to find them by putting them in a high traffic area. The homeless uses The Jungle all the time. They come and go there like campers. Our killer put them there knowing they’d be found.”

  Harry pursed his lips as though he’d taken a sip of sour milk. “Not getting enough attention to suit his ego so he does something about that, too.”

  “I’d say so.” To get into the right frame of mind, Skye squatted on her heels and spotted movement along the row of hedges. Knowing instantly it had to be Kiya because she’d left Atka secured in the car, she felt relieved to catch sight of the wolf roaming in and out, tracking a scent. It didn’t take long for Kiya to pick up a trail.

  Skye headed in that direction, following the wolf, covering almost the entire length of the right of way. She didn’t realize Harry was hot on her heels until she stopped a few feet away from her spirit guide.

  “What is it?” Harry asked.