Cold Silence (A High Stakes Thriller) (30 page)

She and Travis didn't speak on the way out. Instead Cody tried to think innocuous thoughts. She focused on the smell of fresh snow and pine, the bite of the frozen air on her cheeks, and the
whoosh
of snow slipping off the trees above.

Ranger Uldrich kept pausing and looking back. He was breathing heavily, but Cody didn't give him a chance to catch his breath. She needed to see.

They came around a turn in the path and large lights shone at them from the distance. The reflection on the snow felt like direct sun, but she cupped her hand across her eyes and continued.

In front of the lights, Cody counted four people working on the body. There was one woman dressed in snow pants and a parka who was moving around the body, directing a man wearing jeans and a bright North Face coat.

The ranger took them only another ten feet. He paused five feet from the edge of the circle.

"Sheriff," he called out.

The man who turned around was about Cody's age, late thirties, with dark hair and blue eyes. There was something about him that reminded her of Mark: the angular jaw and prominent nose, perhaps. He reached a gloved hand out for her to shake. She pulled her own bare hand out of her pocket and offered it back.

"Drew Hunter."

"Cody O'Brien," she said.

Landon shook his hand, but Hunter focused on Cody as he spoke. "The crime-scene group is done and the medical examiner's preparing to take possession of the body now."

Her gaze flew over his shoulder.

"Before we go, I'd like to tell you what the medical examiner knows. Maybe we can confirm right now that this isn't your child."

Cody clenched her jaw and nodded tightly.

"The victim is a boy between the ages of eight and ten."

She waited.

"He has all his teeth except wisdoms and there doesn't appear to be any damage to the teeth—no chips or replacements that we can see. No braces."

Ryan had all his teeth.

"No silver fillings or anything."

"Right."

"They don't use those much anymore," the sheriff added as though to make her feel better. "Some of the skin is preserved. Are there any markings or scars that you can think of that might identify your son?"

Ryan didn't have any large freckles or moles. In fact, unlike her, he and Mark had very few freckles at all. She thought about the broad expanse of Mark's strong back, his smooth tanned skin.

"Ma'am?"

Cody shook her head. "No."

She thought about the one clue that she had. "I'll know him," she said.

The sheriff gave Landon a skeptical look. Landon, at least, didn't respond.

"Our medical examiner did find one broken bone," the sheriff said. "It appears healed, but from a physical exam of the remains, she believes the victim broke the ulna bone in his left arm."

Cody felt her legs give way. Landon reached out and caught her. She straightened herself, though nothing inside felt right. "My son cracked a bone in that arm; I don't remember which one."

The sheriff frowned.
 

She started to push past them. "I need to see him."

The sheriff caught her arm. "He's going to need to be identified from dental records. You're not going to be able to identify him." He turned to Landon as though he might be able to talk her out of it. "This is a bad idea. It's only going to upset her."

Cody pulled her arm free. "I was told I could see the body. Now, is that true or not?"

The sheriff let go and waved to the scene. "Be my guest."

As Cody tramped toward the body, those standing at the scene moved back. She focused on the ground in front of her until she knew she was within a foot of the remains. When she looked up, the woman in the ski pants and parka was kneeling in the snow, beside a heavy zipped bag like the ones fancy clothes came from the store in. This one held the remains of a small boy.

"They told you about the shape the body is in?" she asked with more compassion than Cody would have expected from someone who dealt with dead bodies for a living.

Cody nodded and dropped to her knees in the snow.

"If I thought it could be my kid, I'd be doing the same thing."

Cody met her gaze. With a deep breath, she focused on the body bag and nodded.

The medical examiner unzipped the black bag and the sight of the body crushed the air from Cody's lungs. She instantly turned her head. "Oh, God," she whispered, covering her hands with her mouth. She felt her stomach convulse but she closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down.

The men talked in loud voices behind her, but she ignored them. Fighting the alternating waves of panic and nausea, she opened her eyes and looked back at the body. Then, just as quickly, she looked at the medical examiner again.

"Animals," the doctor said.

Cody nodded. The face of the boy had been nearly eaten away. Only traces of frostbitten bloody flesh remained on the upper cheeks and ears. The nose had been hollowed out, the lips were gone and the teeth exposed. The sight was horrifying, but the presence of the large adult teeth and a tiny nose made it all the more devastating. She stared at the teeth, trying to picture the exact spacing and shape of Ryan's. He had his father's teeth—very square and tightly fit. But without a face to fit them to, she couldn't possibly match any memory to the teeth she saw now.

"It can happen that fast? In a day or so?"

The doctor nodded. "Depends on a lot of factors, like food sources and the cold, but yes."

Cody forced her gaze off the remains of the face. But she knew it didn't matter. The image would be forever marked in her mind. The bag the boy was in covered the top of the skull, and she knew her answer would be there. "Can I look at the hair?"

The doctor moved around her, closer to the top of the boy's head. "He's lost a lot of it. Are you ready?"

Cody nodded. But she wasn't. When the doctor moved the body bag to unveil the skull, Cody saw that huge chunks of hair were missing. Underneath were bloodied divots in the scalp. "Oh, God."

"It's the animals. They use the hair for their nests."

The knowledge didn't make the sight any easier. She focused on the task. "Can you shine the light on the hair?"

The doctor frowned, but did as Cody asked. She turned the flashlight to expose the hair.

At the sight of the solid dark strands, Cody felt her chest contract until her breath was forced out. Before she told the doctor what she was thinking, she asked a question. "Does hair change in the death process?"

"Hair is one of the last things on a human body to decay. Texture does not change for years, as I understand. Dyed hair may fade with time and it may look darker, depending on whether it ends up wet or not." She pointed to the middle of the scalp where there was still a thick tuft. "We've dried this hair here to take a sample for DNA in case we need it."

The cold had soaked through her pants and the surface of her skin was entirely numb. If she was right, this was worth it. "That hair is as it would look in life?"

The doctor nodded. "More or less. But remember, it's very hard to tell by color. The darkness is deceiving. Unless your son is very blond, you shouldn't rely on color."

Cody turned the flashlight and pointed it into the scalp. She saw no signs that this was Ryan's hair. Putting her hands on her knees, she lifted herself up. "This is not my son."

Travis Landon and the sheriff appeared by her side. "How do you know?"

The M.E. stood, too. "What makes you so sure?"

Cody pushed her hands in her pockets and looked down at the remains of someone's child. The relief she felt that it wasn't Ryan was partly overwhelmed by the grief that someone else was going through what she was.

"Cody?" Landon looked at her intently.

She took her eyes off the body. "Does anyone have a pocketknife?"

No one moved.

"A knife. Someone must have a knife."

"You can't touch the body," the medical examiner said, one hand hovering over the corpse protectively.

"It isn't for him."

The sheriff drew a knife from his pocket.

Cody reached for it and he handed it to her tentatively.

She opened the blade and reached for her own head.

Travis caught her hand. "Let me help."

She met his gaze. "Cut a chunk of the hair from the scalp."

He paused.

"I don't care what it looks like. Just do it."

She felt the tug and heard the gnashing sound of the blade slicing through hair.

Travis handed her the lock. She held it in her hand and told the examiner to shine the light on it. "My son and I have the same color hair."

The men exchanged confused glances and leaned in.

"But yours is colored," the M.E. said.

"So is his. The same color. And it was done the same time as mine. Both of us are naturally light-haired."

The M.E.'s expression was puzzled, but she didn't ask. Instead she flipped open a small toolbox and pulled out a small paper bag and a sealed plastic bag containing scissors. She handed the paper bag to Cody and told her to hold it open.

Breaking open the plastic sack, she withdrew a pair of sterilized scissors and proceeded to cut a small chunk of hair off the victim. Laying it in the palm of her hand, she motioned to the sheriff to turn the light on it. He did and all four of them studied the strands.

Cody waited until the examiner confirmed what she saw. There were no blond roots. Whoever the boy was, he was not her Ryan.

The medical examiner nodded the light away, took the bag from Cody's hand, and gently swept the boy's hair into it. She tied the bag closed, removed a pen from the same tool kit, and marked a series of numbers and words on the bag. Cody couldn't see.

When she was done, she stood and put the bag of hair alongside a bunch of other bags. "We can pack the body up," she told the two men who had been standing back. "The parents are going to have to meet it in the morgue." With that she turned to Cody. "I'm glad this was a waste of your time."

"Me, too."

Cody's gaze was drawn to the dead boy one last time. Her mind created an image of what his little features might have looked like. She mourned for the child's mother, guilty for the relief she felt. And as relieved as she was, she knew her baby was still out there somewhere.

* * *

The colonel was pacing in front of the car when she reached the clearing again.

"It's not him," she said.

His brow lifted slightly. "Thank God. I've been sick about it." His fist was cupped around something, his expression still tense.

"What is it?"

He opened his fingers and showed her a cell phone. "It's yours. It's been ringing off the hook."

She stared at it until the colonel pushed it into her hand. "Two new voice mails." She punched the code to retrieve her messages and hit the number one to start the messages.

The first was from Mei Ling at the Bureau, warning her that she might be in trouble. Cody listened to the message and then waited for the second one to begin.

"Megan, oh, God." Even with those three words, Cody knew exactly who was calling. And she knew what it meant. She pulled her arms to her chest and pressed the phone harder to her ear. She was wrong. She had to be wrong.

Jennifer Townsend wasn't about to tell her that her baby was dead.

"I hope you get this." She was sobbing, and Cody felt her patience explode. "I've done something terrible, Megan."

Jennifer sniffed and Cody heard Landon approach. She waved him off and stepped farther away.

"It's about you and Ryan. I found the article in the paper about the mistaken kidnapping. I helped them find you."

Cody lost her breath. What was Jennifer saying? The plastic edges bit into her fingers as she gripped the phone.

"I didn't know they'd find you. I hoped they wouldn't. I swear, I did. I never meant to hurt you."

It was all bullshit, Cody thought as another call beeped through. Cody hung up on the message and answered the phone. "Megan Riggs," she said, for the first time in almost seven years. It sounded unbelievably foreign to her own ears.

"Megan, oh, my God. It's Jen. Oh, thank God. Are you okay?"

"What do they know?" she said, refusing to waste even a moment catching up on lost time.

"I only gave them the article."

"Goddamn it, Jennifer. What do they know?"

There were racking sobs from the other end of the phone.

"Jennifer. Where is Ryan?"

"I don't know, Megan. I swear to God I don't know."

"What do you know? Do they know where he is?"

Jen continued to sob so that only small grunts and groans came out in the place of words.

"Do they know?"

"Yes," she finally choked out. "They know. Dmitri was drunk and mumbling about it. He told me that his father paid the kidnapper six hundred thousand for Ryan." She gasped and started to sob again. "I thought they'd come after you." She gasped. "Oh, God. Poor Ryan."