“When she was twenty years old, Trisha Danes went missing. Trisha was originally from Charlotte, North Carolina, a newlywed who had moved across the country to be with her husband, Milo. The night she disappeared, the two had had a fight. Milo locked her out of the apartment they shared on base and sent her packing with the clothes on her back. After that, she essentially vanished into the night and hasn’t been seen since.”
“Milo sounds like a prince of a guy. I’d bet the husband did something to her,” Josh tossed out.
“You’d think. That was my initial gut reaction, too. But I called in a favor from the base and got hold of the old file yesterday. It seems two witnesses came forward at the time and told the CID investigating officer—”
“Military? Because it happened on the base?”
“That’s right, they had jurisdiction. Anyway, the witnesses said they saw Trisha get into a car not far from the apartment building. That car was listed in the file as a Jeep Cherokee.”
Skye’s jaw dropped open as chill bumps ran along her arms. “Any chance Trisha’s family has looked for her?”
“This morning I got off the phone with Trisha’s stepmother, Brandy Sue Grainger. Brandy never liked Milo and always thought he had something to do with Trisha’s disappearance. Brandy spent years doing what she could to help find her stepdaughter. She didn’t have a lot of money but back then she pleaded with a friend to loan her enough cash to hire a private investigator. The private eye worked on it for about two months but gave up when he found nothing new on Trisha and decided the woman simply vanished into thin air leaving her family devastated.”
“But a stepmother won’t be much help with DNA,” Josh declared.
“True. But even though Brandy and Trisha’s father divorced years earlier, Brandy put me in touch with him. Local law enforcement in North Carolina has scheduled a trip to collect his DNA.”
“You really are amazing, Harry,” Skye proclaimed.
“I hope you still feel that way after I finish explaining about the homicide, the other case. The victim’s name was Ellen Schreiber, a young, pretty army lieutenant who grew up in the Los Angeles area. ”
“Okay. I suppose we have another victim,” Skye determined. But the look on Harry’s face told her it was much more than that. “What’s so special about this particular victim?”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Skye, but Ellen Schreiber had a connection to your father.”
For a second time, Skye’s jaw fell open in shock. “How so?”
“At the time of Ellen’s murder, Daniel Cree’s name appeared on the suspect list, both from CID and the jurisdiction where the body was eventually discovered. It took years, but when they started adding lanes along the I-90, specifically near State Road 519 and Fourth Avenue near downtown, they dug up a body. This was long before Safeco Field. The Kingdome was still home to all our major sports teams. I didn’t get the Schreiber case, but it fell to Seattle PD to coordinate it with Army CID. Seattle PD took the lead but…”
“It remains unsolved,” Skye finished.
“It does indeed. Along with the bizarre case I mentioned. According to what was in the evidence box, Ellen’s makeshift grave still held her clothing, as well as the weapon, a fourteen-inch butcher knife with a rosewood handle.”
“So she wasn’t dismembered?”
“I didn’t say that. The killer tried to slice off her hands at the wrists. Instead of cutting them entirely though, he left them dangling by a string of muscle tissue. Parts of the hands were still attached even though she’d likely been in that grave a couple of years.”
“We might have DNA, Harry,” Skye said, excitement dripping in her tone.
But Josh got the implication. “It doesn’t seem Harry is as excited by that as we are, Skye. How did this Ellen Schreiber and Daniel Cree know each other?”
“Daniel worked at the base as a civilian contractor. Ellen was an officer. They worked in the same department. Witness statements back then said Ellen and Daniel used to see each other quite a bit—outside of work. They were essentially colleagues, Skye. There were rumors of an affair.”
Skye bristled at the mental picture. “So?”
“When Ellen first went missing the investigator on the case was an MP by the name of Jason Berkenshaw. He’s the one who interviewed your father. Berkenshaw wrote in the file that there were major inconsistences in Daniel’s statement, his alibi.”
“Which was?”
“Daniel told the cops he’d gone to visit his daughter in Seattle. The report in the file says your mother, Jodie, backed him up. He was eliminated as a suspect.”
Skye blew out a relieved breath. “So that was the end of it?”
“It was, until I went through that evidence box. Ever since this guy decided to start sending you all these boxes with bones, I took the liberty of going through all our cold cases from that timeframe. I went through boxes and boxes of evidence from at least thirty homicides narrowing the focus down to the 1990s, all females. I pulled out whatever articles of clothing were inside. Anything in there that could be tested for DNA, I sent off to the lab. They’ve been working overtime testing everything. They got to Ellen Schreiber’s stuff last week.”
That feeling of impending doom landed in Skye’s stomach. “You’re getting to the point soon, I hope. And it doesn’t sound like good news.”
“No, it isn’t good news. In Ellen’s box there was a scarf. Touch DNA on her scarf is a match to Daniel Cree’s.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I thought you’d say that. I brought the report.” He handed off a manila file folder.
She skimmed the piece of paper, read the results with her own eyes. “What the hell? I don’t understand. Touch DNA, that’s a transfer of skin cells, correct?”
“Sloughed-off skin cells or nucleated sweat. They call it CNA or fragmented, free-floating DNA.”
“You’re certain of the results? I mean, there’s no mistake.”
“The DNA doesn’t lie.”
“No chance of cross-contamination in the lab?”
“You know better than that.”
“I’m grasping at straws here, Harry. How do you know it was a match? I mean what the hell is Daniel Cree’s DNA doing in CODIS?”
“It’s a long story.”
She threw the file folder on the coffee table, spread her hands out wide. “Do I look like I’m going anywhere anytime soon? What gives?”
“When you went missing, for that span of time you were gone, we found the body of a young girl in Andrews Bay. Since you were the most recent missing child we had, we asked your father for a DNA sample to see if our dead girl was a match to you. Daniel complied.”
Her temple throbbed at the thought. “I don’t understand. But it wasn’t a match. It couldn’t have been a match to me anyway,” she mumbled, almost to herself. “Why on earth would he provide DNA knowing that?” All at once she realized she’d spoken out loud and couldn’t take it back.
Harry scowled beginning to get the gist. “Why wouldn’t it match yours, Skye? Unless… You can’t possibly mean that Daniel wasn’t your biological father?” Harry sat back as lines formed along his forehead, the idea sinking in.
“That pretty much sums it up. Seems like when my parents wanted a child, they learned he had trouble with low sperm count or something. They turned to a third party,” Skye explained, doing her best not to feel totally immature about the disclosure.
“Okay. Then who is your father?”
What the hell, she thought. She got up from the sofa, crossed her arms over her chest and paced to the window and back again, decided she might as well go all in. “Travis. He and my mother hooked up and then decided down the road to make it a whole lot more, if you get my drift.”
“They had an affair? Jodie Cree and Travis Nakota?”
“You got it. It lasted for some time, too. And now you’re telling me during that same time when my parents were separated, Daniel’s main sque
eze turned up dead. That’s uncanny. And yes, bizarre.”
“But if Daniel wasn’t your real father then why would he provide us with DNA? He knew it wouldn’t be a match.” Harry scratched his head. “Why would he do that?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Maybe Daniel wanted to keep up appearances. Maybe he didn’t want to let that info out of the bag and have you deal with that along with everything else, so when I asked for a sample, he complied to make it look good.”
Skye drew in a sigh, smiled at her friend. “You do have a habit of saying the right thing. There’s just one problem with that theory. He didn’t know for sure that wasn’t me pulled out of Andrews Bay. It could just as easily have been me.”
“That’s a horrible thought,” Josh stated. “But accurate.”
“I was there, Skye. Your father, er, Daniel, and your mother were absolutely terror-stricken that they’d never see you again. Now that I look back, Travis was right there with them every step of the way just as petrified.”
“I know. But let’s get back to the subject at hand, for now anyway. I don’t understand why you kept his DNA all this time. It’s been years since I was abducted. The case closed. I got away from the bastard, alive. Why didn’t you just toss it in the trash?”
“It doesn’t work that way. Once Daniel’s DNA was put into the system, or anyone else’s for that matter, it stays there, whether it goes into CODIS or NCIC, it doesn’t matter. Even though it wasn’t a match to our young victim at the time, there was still hope that you’d be found alive. Once you showed up, we obviously didn’t think any more about the sample, the DNA that is, because a couple of days later, you were found wandering around an apartment complex parking lot.”
She closed her eyes remembering that day she’d escaped the clutches of a monster. It still haunted her enough to cause nightmares every so often. “I wonder… Is there anyway Daniel and Travis could have switched cheek swabs?”
“I don’t see how that’s possible. When did you find out about all this, Skye?”
“About my father not being my father? Several months back. I had to pull the info out of Travis though.”
“I never would’ve guessed. But now we have to figure out how Daniel’s DNA got on Ellen Schreiber’s scarf. That’s the issue.”
“Hey, I intend to dig into that with a shovel the size of Mercer Island. I want to see the evidence box, Harry.”
“I thought you’d say that. That’s why I made a few copies of info I thought was pertinent.”
“Thanks for that.”
After Harry left them, the two went back over the entire conversation. She had to face facts. Her father had worked at Fort Lewis two decades earlier. His connection to Ellen Schreiber was unmistakable.
“I refuse to accept that Daniel Cree killed Ellen Schreiber,” Skye finally said. “That isn’t even on the table for negotiation. The father I knew, the man who raised me, was a good and decent man.”
“I didn’t know Daniel. But yeah, I’d say that’s a bogus theory. I don’t buy it either.”
“So how did the killer manage to get Daniel’s DNA on the victim’s clothing?”
“Whoa, back up. Touch DNA just means that at some point, Daniel had hold of that scarf. A scarf is a simple accessory that could’ve been draped around something other than her neck at any given time while he knew her.”
“Like a chair or on a hook in her closet, even in a public place?”
“That’s it. Daniel could’ve handed it off to her when they had dinner out and got ready to leave a restaurant, or picked it out of a drawer for her to wear with an outfit, or touched it when he removed it from a peg in the closet. See? There are a number of scenarios that work other than it’s a definitive piece of evidence against him.”
“Okay. So what does it prove anyway? That Daniel and the victim were spending time with each other and he had access to her clothing. He never denied he knew Ellen. The two obviously had an affair, which means Daniel touched a great deal more than Ellen’s scarf. So what conclusion does that leave us?”
“Exactly. All it says is he touched the scarf at some point. Big deal.”
“Who are we kidding here, Josh? There are people in prison serving time with less evidence than this. As I said before, DNA is pretty strong. I have to face facts. Daniel Cree had some kind of tie-in with our killer. We just have to find out what it is.” All at once, Skye shoved out of the chair, grabbed her satchel. “There’s something I have to do.”
Irritation flashed through Josh. He recognized that withdrawn attitude on her face, a demeanor he thought she’d rid herself of—until right this moment. “I’ll go with you.”
“No. We aren’t joined at the hip. The sooner you realize that the better off this marriage will be.”
“Don’t shut me out like this, Skye. There’s no need for it. You’re hurting. I get that. But—”
“Right now, I need for you to back off.” With that, she stalked to the elevator, hit the Down button hard with the palm of her hand, and disappeared inside the car.
Skye drove around for a while to clear her head. When that didn’t work, she made her way to the cemetery to visit the graves of her parents.
She hadn’t thought to bring flowers. But as she stood among the headstones dealing with another painful memory of a different kind, she took out the medicine bag from under her pullover.
With her hand clutching the power of the talisman, she stood over the ground where Daniel and Jodie Cree had been buried side by side. She went through the only chant she could remember in her native tongue, a simple recitation that spurred memories from childhood.
“Oh Great Spirit, protect our family. Mother Earth, shine your sun on us for many years to come. Father Sky, let peace and honor be with us always. I believe in you, my father, my mother. I know you believe in me. Oh Great Spirit, bring joy and light as we all travel down life’s road.”
Glancing up at the heavens and the low-hanging clouds, she spotted a hawk, circling overhead. The magnificent bird wasn’t alone. Not far away in the drifting layer of mist, a crow flapped its wings as it came into view. She breathed in the cool air and let a sense of peace wash over her. And decided there were pluses to having so many protectors looking out for her.
One in particular was very real and could be a pain in the ass when the mood struck him. It was one of the reasons why Skye fretted over her visit with Travis.
The two of them hadn’t had much of a chance to revisit the subject of his affair with her mother since last fall. There were still a few crinkles that needed to be ironed out. She had to admit now as she drove through the gate, past the sign that read The Painted Crow, she’d acted a bit like a child when she’d first found out. She’d been feeling somewhat betrayed at the thought of what her mother had done to Daniel Cree and what Travis had done to the man he considered a brother.
Now that she knew Daniel had moved on with Ellen Schreiber, was that enough to temper her outrage at all of them?
She wasn’t sure. It hadn’t been Daniel’s fault that Jodie and Travis had continued to sleep together well after their initial agreement to make a baby. But at some point, Daniel had begun an affair with a coworker. Perhaps out of loneliness, perhaps to seek out someone who gave him a measure of happiness, no matter how brief it had been.
Didn’t Daniel deserve happiness as much as anyone else?
For that reason, she was done judging the actions of her parents and those of Travis. It wasn’t her place. What happened was unfortunate for all concerned but it was ancient family history. It was time to let it go and move on. And she would have, if it hadn’t been for the Ellen Schreiber murder. If not for that, she would gladly have put it right where it belonged—two decades ago in the past.
But not having all the details of the story bugged the hell out of her.
Knowing how much Travis valued his privacy, she figured he would never have come clean in the first place if she hadn’t pushed him to do it.
That day she’d seen too many emotions on his face to describe the turmoil running through him. She didn’t take that angst lightly.
And now, here she was again with an inquiring mind and a head full of questions. She doubted Travis would be happy about it.
To escape Seattle’s hectic lifestyle, Travis raised and bred American Paint Horses on forty acres of ranchland outside Everett. She knew the place to be a picturesque spot he’d bought during one of the darkest times of his life.
Crawling out of the Subaru, with the earthy smells of manure and hay hanging in the damp air, she understood why he found solace here among the rolling hills and evergreens. Maybe she needed a great big dose of it herself. Maybe she needed a retreat where she could get away from all the hassles her life had become.
When she spotted her father making his way from the stable, she sent him a wave.
“What a wonderful surprise,” Travis said as he pulled her into his chest for a hug. After kissing her cheek, he put her at arm’s length to study her face. “Something’s wrong.”
The sky started to mist rain so they looped their way up the pebbled walkway past the corral and inside the stable.
“How about I help you groom the horses?”
“Sure. But you didn’t drive all the way up here in traffic to become the stable hand for the afternoon. What gives?”
“I used to hate being Native,” Skye blurted out as she took off her jacket so she could move around better. “Don’t worry,” she assured him as she picked up a curry comb. Eyeing the disappointed look on his face, she quickly added, “It was a phase. I’ve been out of that mode for several years now. I was young and stupid and didn’t appreciate my heritage back then.”
“Okay. Glad to hear it. You want to tell me why you’re here? Not that I don’t appreciate the visit. Did something happen between you and Josh?”
Skye Cree Boxed Set Books 1 - 3 Page 69
