Skye Cree Boxed Set Books 1 - 3

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Oh. Sorry. But to find Willa we need to…do all we can, as soon as we can. You know as well as I do that time is a factor.”

  “No need to explain. I get it.”

  “I emailed that forensic anthropologist, Dawson Hennings, to see if he had anything for us yet. I know it’s early but I’m anxious to hear what he has to say. I thought maybe we could set up a meeting with him. Push him along to get us a facial reconstruction on the skull.”

  Josh chuckled. “I asked him the same thing about fifteen minutes ago.”

  Skye grinned. “You know what they say? Great minds think alike.”

  While they polished off the leftover pork roast from two nights earlier, they went over recent abductions in the area, touching on specifics, drawing on similarities. Even attempted abductions, including carjackings, were included in their discussion. They checked off timelines, mapped grids, and rehashed other related crimes within the last several years trying to find a link.

  Josh picked up his glass of wine, gestured at all the data. “It occurs to me we’re looking for someone who doesn’t stand out in a crowd, maybe even fits in to the point that people see him every single day without him raising any suspicions or warnings.”

  She lifted her glass as well, sipped. “He could even hold a position of authority, one where he has power over people. He’d get off on something like that. How much good do you think holding that press conference really did?”

  “Harry said he got a few leads. He’ll let us know in forty-eight hours if anything panned out.”

  “I’m worried about Willa, Josh. I have an uneasy feeling her disappearance is tied to our guy.”

  “You know that it’s way too early to make an assumption like that. And yes, I know we already did, but let’s try to keep an open mind about Willa.”

  “No, it’s too much a coincidence not to be.”

  “You think he targeted her then?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “To make a point right in your face?”

  “There you go. I’m wondering how long he’ll keep Willa around before he decides to… I can’t let myself think like that yet.”

  “Let’s hope we can get to her before that happens.”

  She forked up more meat and looked across their spread of computer devices. “Imagine trying to solve crimes without modern technology. What would we do without databases to use to cross-reference all manner of the stuff we collect?”

  “No doubt we have valuable tools at our disposal. We could try using keywords, like say, dismemberment, to look up any cold cases involving body parts.”

  “That would work if he dismembered in the early years. You said once that maybe we could try syncing our thoughts together, working through a series of thought patterns. We already know that both of us have uneasy feelings about the military base, especially the older parts of it. I’d say trying to find Willa, there’s no time like now.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “What? Now you’ve decided trying to utilize that mind-meld thing you’re so fond of is a waste of time?” Skye teased. After flicking through the last of the websites on her list, she added, “Come on, give it a whirl.”

  Although he wasn’t sure how combing through her brain would help matters, he decided to humor her. “Maybe we use it on unsuspecting strangers to zero in on all kinds of secrets.” He slid in to the chair next to hers. “So you want me to take a trip through your head and see what I come up with? Okay, let’s try it now. Put your hand in mine.”

  She pretty much knew by the glint in his eye she was being had, but she decided to play along anyway. Because of the day’s events, what harm would it do? They needed a diversion.

  All the while he went through the phony steps, she continued to check her inbox to see if Hennings had replied to her email.

  That is, until Josh finally cleared his throat. “If I could have your undivided attention it would make things a whole lot easier. I could be much more effective without having you distracted.”

  She complied but not for long. It didn’t take but a couple of minutes for Skye to grow impatient with the game. “Getting anything yet?”

  “Wait. Oh yeah. Lots of images. I’m seeing how much you want head-banging sex right about now, right this minute, right here on the dining room floor.”

  She frogged him in the arm right before elbowing him in the ribs. “Like you needed special powers to figure that one out.”

  “Power of suggestion,” he said, nibbling her throat before moving to her ear where he gnawed on a delectable lobe. “Whaddya say we move to the couch.”

  She let herself be led over to the sofa until they both dropped down into the leather. “It amazes me you can do this on a full stomach.”

  He ran a finger down her cheek. Those violet eyes pulled him into their depths. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  “I don’t think so. Why don’t you show me?” Almost a year of being with him had made her more adept at flirting, at handling the sexy banter. After years of putting off intimacy, she gave Josh high marks for easing her into normalcy in that arena. “I want to rip your clothes off.”

  “Now we’re talking. Don’t let me stop you,” Josh said evenly, a good dose of come-and-take-me in his tone. He wanted her under him, stripped down and eager. Or maybe on top, he thought now as he pulled her sweater over her head with one yank. He tussled with the zipper on her skinny jeans, watched as she wriggled out of them.

  Heat thrummed between them hot as golden light.

  “Now you.” She tugged up his shirt, unbuttoned his pants. They finished ripping off whatever clothing remained till they got down to flesh, lean and hard, soft and supple.

  Pressing her body to his, she threw long limbs around his waist. She needed to climb and conquer.

  He locked his mouth to hers, feasted. Using lips and tongue, he moved to her breasts. Slow, lazy tugging drew out the longing.

  Fast and fluid, fingers found little gems dancing in the glistening folds. Teeth bit down, gnawed and chewed, languished and savored.

  Ripples rushed to the core and back again. A flood of sensations had her tumbling, quivering, shuddering into his palm.

  She pushed him back into the cushions to ride, to triumph, to take.

  He gripped her hips to fly higher, to drive deeper.

  Her hair draped down over him as they rocketed up together, soaring, lifting higher and higher until they winged to the peak. The world tilted. It spiraled and fluttered, built to crashing crests. When the surf careened against the rocks with a roar, she called out his name.

  “Is it possible we’re getting better at this?” Skye fanned out, trying to catch her breath.

  Laughter escaped in the way of the very smug at a job well done. “I’m pretty sure we just set a record for something.”

  With a grin, she rolled off, snatched up her top. “Good thing records are made to be broken.”

  “We’ll just keep at it till we’re legends at our own game,” Josh muttered as his eyes fluttered shut.

  “I need to shower. Want to join me?”

  But when he didn’t answer, she turned to stare at a still naked Josh. It always amazed her to see him like this. Knowing she hadn’t always been so at ease with the intimacy that came so naturally to him, she continued to stand there taking in the sight of him. His head lay askew on the cushion. His chin had already dropped to his chest. His eyes were closed. He’d fallen asleep right in front of her.

  As she blew down the hallway to the bedroom, she decided she liked the progress she’d made. Feeling as though she’d come a very long way in a short amount of time, she rushed into the shower confident she’d conquered one more fear.

  As the water sluiced over her like luxuriant rainfall, she lathered her body with the smells of lavender and vanilla. Appreciating this quiet time had her wondering if she really wanted to live anywhere but right here. It was nice to kick around the idea of moving into a new place. But really, when i
t came to pulling the cord, she wasn’t sure she could leave the loft, leave Seattle.

  She turned the water off, stepped out, and grabbed a thick towel to soak up her dripping hair. Rubbing a generous handful of body lotion from head to toe, she stood in front of the full-length mirror studying her reflection. Was she beautiful? She didn’t see it. But somehow Josh never failed to make her feel that way.

  After slipping on a robe, she headed to the kitchen. One glance at Josh told her he was still conked out. She tossed a throw over him and spied the mess they’d left on the table. The supper dishes waited. The temptation to leave them until morning was there but Skye resisted the urge and decided to clean up anyway.

  When she realized she’d left her laptop open, she reached to shut it down. That’s when her eyes landed on the notes Josh had jotted down on a legal pad. One section was about a young college student who’d gone missing two weeks earlier.

  Before she remembered Josh was still napping, she blurted out, “Why didn’t you mention Vanessa Farrington?”

  Josh abruptly sat up, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “I came across it earlier when we were surfing the net.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I just read about the girl from Olympia who didn’t make it back to her dorm room after attending a party on campus. It says here, she’s a state senator’s daughter. Maybe that’s why the name sounds so familiar.”

  “Olympia College is sixty miles from Seattle. But it’s only fifteen miles from Fort Lewis.” He pulled his pants back on, crossed over to give her a kiss on the top of her hair.

  Skye took a seat at the table, entered Vanessa’s name and the circumstances surrounding her disappearance into the database they had created.

  “Hmm, another jurisdiction that isn’t King County, therefore another set of county cops to deal with. This website says the Farrington family’s putting up flyers. Here’s what she looks like…” She turned her laptop around so Josh could see the screen. That’s when it hit her. “Wait a minute, I know this girl.”

  “What? How?” Josh sat down beside her to get a better look.

  “She came to see me at the Foundation last fall. Had to be around mid-October, early November maybe.”

  “What on earth for?”

  “She wanted to know if she could get college credit if she volunteered her time at the Foundation three times a week.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her sure, if I had anything for her to do. That’s when we were just getting up and going. By the way, at some point we need to talk about that. I mean, so far it’s pretty much a one-woman outfit. But there’s a chance in the near future this gets bigger than I can handle by myself.”

  “Skye, if Vanessa came to see you, that’s one more connection to you. Like Willa. You can bet it isn’t a coincidence.”

  “I agree. You did mention that he’s probably been staking the building out for some time. He sees a pretty girl go inside, waits until she comes out, follows her back down to Olympia, grabs her there when the opportunity presents itself.”

  “You sure Vanessa came in last fall? You sure about the timeframe?”

  “Positive. That means he’s planned this out for quite a while.”

  “Planning to involve you all along.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That’s disturbing. Have you thought about letting people man the office while you spend more time in the field, so to speak.”

  “Sure. The problem is I don’t want a bunch of people sitting around with nothing to do, waiting for the phone to ring while I’m out circling Seattle. The point is I…I mean we,” she corrected. “Need to be more organized. I had three people call the office while we were in St. Kitts wanting to volunteer their time after seeing a news story about the Foundation. But what would they do, Josh? I don’t even have available flyers printed up yet with all the missing. The list is rather long. Plus, I’d need people I could trust.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Skye. The Foundation is still in its infancy. It seems you already know exactly what to do. Have someone come in and organize your files, get flyers printed, get them in the mail, circulate as many as you can around Washington, starting with the immediate five counties.”

  She arched a brow, considering. “Jumpstart the searches, put new life in all the cold cases. That’s a plan. I like it.”

  About that time her email dinged signaling a message from Dawson Hennings. She scanned the brief five-line missive. “He’s agreed to see us tomorrow morning.”

  Josh shook his head. “He’s agreed to see you. I’m afraid I have a meeting with my programmers. I can’t miss it, Skye.”

  “Let me guess. Working on that new game featuring the red-headed female fighter? When is it set for release?”

  “This coming Christmas, which means we have less than a year to bust our asses from now till then to get this product on the market without major bugs.”

  “So when it comes to this case…”

  “I’m in this with you a hundred percent. Just not tomorrow. How about if I text you with any questions I come up with, though? We can always keep in touch to make sure we’re on the same page as a team.”

  The next morning, half the Ander-Cree team stood inside the office belonging to Dawson Hennings.

  To Skye, the man, dressed in a white lab coat, came across as the perfect stereotype—a snapshot of the medical scientific nerd mesmerized by whatever ended up under his microscope.

  His lab might have been meticulous but his office was cluttered with files and textbooks scattered around. Despite all the obvious work piled up, the bespectacled guy seemed rather organized in his chaos.

  Reluctantly she followed Dawson into his lab and watched as the man busied himself with drying an upper arm bone that had been soaking in some type of clear solution. Much like at Bayliss’s lab, she felt like an intruder. But unlike the coroner, Dawson seemed to relish having a visitor. He’d already given her a brief dissertation on the two types of DNA used most often in solving crimes: mitochondrial and nuclear.

  “Mitochondrial DNA is found in the subunit of active cells known as the mitochondrion and deals with energy production. Bones, teeth, and hair are ideal for obtaining that type to use in missing persons cases. While nuclear DNA is found in the cell nucleus and pertains to growth and maintenance where blood, semen, and sweat are left behind.”

  “Mitochondrial DNA is inherited from the mother, right?”

  “It can be used to determine maternal heritage, yes. A father’s mitochondrial DNA is usually destroyed at fertilization. Although a few scientific case studies have shown people can inherit mitochondrial DNA from both father and mother.”

  “Really?”

  “Those results showed subjects had parents who had used in vitro fertilization to help with their pregnancies.”

  “Ah. So nuclear DNA is the stuff found from evidence on things like blankets, clothing, weapons, stuff found at crime scenes?”

  “That’s right. Sorry. I know I sound like I’m lecturing you but the point is mutations and disorders routinely occur in science, in diseases, in molecular structure. And understanding the types of DNA might give you a better handle on what your expectations are in obtaining usable DNA for ID purposes in this case.”

  “Hey, any time I get to see things firsthand and learn more than I get from the Internet, I’m a willing subject.” When the doctor turned his full attention from his work to her, she wanted to know, “Is that one of the bones you got from Bayliss?”

  Dawson grinned and showed off his immaculate teeth. “No. This is another case I’m working on, another unidentified set of remains. This one had flesh and tissue still attached, which I’ve already removed.”

  Skye made a face. “On second thought, I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

  “Think of it this way. Going through this process hopefully IDs this poor victim and gives a family somewhere some much-needed answers.”

  “G
ood point. I think I’m going to like you, Dr. Hennings. You didn’t use that word ‘closure’ that so many tend to use which has a tendency to piss me off.”

  “I like you, too. Call me Dawson. Want to see how it’s done?”

  “Sure. Although I doubt it ever comes up again.”

  “You never know,” he said, moving on to his task. “I soak the bone in a ten percent solution of bleach, rinse it in sterile water before making sure it’s thoroughly dried. Like this.” Dawson took her through the steps before picking up a grinder. “Now, I remove the outer coating with either sandpaper or in this case, I’m using my Dremel to drill down as much as I can to collect the bone powder. As I’ve already stated, the best chance of getting usable DNA is in the middle of the bone, the nucleus.”

  “Looks like you’re avoiding the ends for a reason. Is it because they’re more dried out than the rest?”

  Dawson looked back up from his specimen, stared at his guest over his glasses. “You are observant. I don’t use that part of the bone because it’s usually too contaminated. Exposure to the elements takes its toll. Since this sample has pretty much degraded to what you see here, I’ve elected to avoid the marrow, for now at least. I might get desperate down the road though.”

  “Why’s that? Wait. What you’re really saying or trying not to say is that you don’t have the skull of this victim to extract any DNA from the teeth? It’s down to that bone you have curing in the solution.”

  Dawson cleared his throat. “It’s unfortunate, but that’s true.”

  “So, why not use the marrow?”

  “In this case it’s just too degraded. When that happens it produces a much lower molecular weight substance. Using a descending concentration of ethyl alcohol, I hope to extract what I need for the size sample I want. The goal is to get fifteen grams. That’s ideal. In this instance, it’s soaked overnight in the extraction solution. But the process itself may take several tries.” He picked up a conical tube, filled it with the liquid, set it in the centrifuge to spin while they talked.