Silent Graves (7 page)

Chapter 12

Zachery read the autopsy report in its entirety on the way to the morgue. I knew because I walked beside him while Jack and Paige were in front with the Steele, Hanes, and the Dumfries officer.

“You have this thing solved yet?” I smiled at Zachery.

“Pending, wouldn’t you love me to do your job for you.”

“I do my job quite well, thank you. I’m making small talk.”

“Why?”

Why
. Good question. Maybe it stemmed back to the conference room and the way the officer kept making eyes at Paige. It shouldn’t bother me. She didn’t belong to me, but watching his attention on her, imagining what he was thinking…

Jack stood to the side of the morgue door, letting the rest of us go in ahead of him.

“So, you be the FBI.” A graying man of about six-foot-five held out a large hand, first toward Zachery. “I’m Hans Rideout, Medical Examiner.”

As he made his way around to all of us and the introductions were made, it didn’t appear the ME had the same stigma toward us as did the police chief. I got the impression that, to him, we were outsiders, here to take the credit for a case they should have been left to solve.

Only a few seconds passed in silence as Rideout pulled the appropriately marked slab from the wall and its frozen cocoon. “The family’s been called. I hate cases like this, when they demand to see the body.”

As the ME lifted the sheet, I understood why he said that. My coffee swirled into sour bile and threatened to burn a hole through my stomach lining.

“It’s adipocere.” Rideout must have noticed my facial expression or picked up on my energy. He leaned over the cadaver to level his face with mine. “It happens under unique circumstances—moist soil, for example, and it takes months to form.”

“The report says she was found in a field.” Zachery held onto the folder, his one index finger pressed between its manila covers. The group turned to him, and the ME’s mouth twitched like he was going to say something but refrained. Zachery continued. “She was buried, swept into the river when the water was high, exposing her grave. Her burial would have started the process before the river claimed her.”

“Yes, very good. We found trace of soil on her. It’s being tested, along with an insect we found on the body.”

Zachery held his expression during the doctor’s condescending praise, and I was impressed by his ability to keep it cool. His intelligence could rival that of the ME’s.

Zachery held up the folder. “Now the report shows no evidence of lividity, and that makes sense based on the age of the remains. It also notes that you believe she died from being hung upside down.”

“Correct. Look at her wrists and ankles.” Rideout pointed to bruising in those areas.

“I’d say she was bound with chain, as you can make out that impression, but have you taken photographs under ultraviolet lights? It would enhance the visual. Maybe we could confirm exactly what the unsub used and track it down to a supplier,” Zachery said. “It might take more time than we have right now though.”

I took in those in the room.  The officer’s face disclosed more fascination over the body than disgust.  The chief stood back from the group of us, his hands tucked under his arm pits. The detective’s body language wasn’t communicating much.

“Anything else you pick up on?” Rideout asked Zachery.

Zachery leaned in closer to the body.

My sinuses were singed enough from the smell of death standing a couple feet back. The acid in my stomach rolled again.

“With her wrists being bound the way they were—” Zachery moved around the gurney and the rest of us stepped out of his way, “she was laid out, connected to a sort of pulley system.”

“Excuse me?”

Zachery laid his one palm, flat out, pointed to the heel of his hand. “She was bound at her wrists.” He pressed a fingertip to the pad of his index finger. “Bound at her ankles.” His eyes were on his hand and the vision he was conjuring in his mind. “He kept her hostage for a while, and she was unable to fight her constraints at all times.”

“Unable to fight her—”

“Yes, we believe that the unsub uses some sort of drug to subdue his victims, but these markings show that he didn’t keep her under. He gave her hope she’d escape.”

“One sick bastard,” the chief said from the side of the room.

Zachery continued. “That’s why there are some deeper impressions—the struggle. Going back to the victim being laid out.” His attention went back to his palm. “The pulley system would connect the chains in a systematic manner. As the unsub cranked the ratchet, the body would move along the table until it ran out of surface.” He demonstrated the thought with his hand by lifting his palm upward.

“She died upside down,” I mumbled.

The members of PWPD watched Zachery. The officer’s eyes kept going to the body.

Rideout took a step closer to the slab. “I concluded that she died upside down, but what you propose, well, the entire method seems quite plausible.”

Jack tapped his shirt pocket, no doubt a cigarette calling out, tempting him to light up. It had been about an hour. I was surprised he wasn’t shaking.

“Brilliant.” Rideout’s eyes went to the body, an odd smile on his face.

“We have to think about chains, hanging bodies…” I introduced the audible brainstorming session. “Could be our unsub is in the meat packing industry.”

Detective Hanes, who had been quiet up until this point, stepped forward. “Initially we were thinking the same thing, but there’s no indication that they were hung by hooks.”

“Unless the chain was just fastened to them? It’s seems coincidental. Who else uses chain and hangs bodies upside down?”

Paige let out a deep breath. “It could explain the old cases too. We mentioned the possibility of a short-run truck driver who frequented I-95.”

Chief Steele stepped forward. “Old cases? What are we talking about, exactly, here?”

“Yeah, you had mentioned it dates back
decades
,” the officer said.

Jack provided a quick overview of the old cases.

The officer’s eyes scanned over each of us. “You think a meat hauler from the nineteen seventies is still abducting and killing women?”

“It’s possible.”

I noticed Jack didn’t share that the third victim was raped. Like he always said,
only share what you have to, so they think you’re giving as much as you take.

“One more question, was there evidence of rape?” I asked.

Rideout looked up from the body. “My guess is repeated assaults.”

The four of us loaded into the SUV and followed Hanes and the Dumfries officer in their department-issued sedan. Jack had the hands-free system connect us to Nadia.

“I need you to look into meat packers and distributors who would have had trucks running along I-95 between Greenwood, Maryland and a little west of Dumfries, Virginia. Narrow it down to the years nineteen seventy to two thousand. That would at least cover the first three victims.”

“That’s narrow?”

Jack disregarded her. “The driver likely would have been in his mid-thirties at the time, but only use that parameter if there are too many hits.”

“Anything else?”

“For now, that should be it. It’s likely the guy had a bad attendance record or other marks against him.”

“This driver would be—what?—in his seventies now?”

“Yes, but it should get us closer.”

“You believe a seventy-year-old man is luring these women?”

I wished I could read the expression on Paige and Zachery’s faces. Not many questioned Jack’s decisions.

“Maybe he entices them with candy.” Nadia laughed and so did everyone else, except Jack.

Jack continued. “It also goes back to the highway murders. The last one was raped. We could also be after a younger counterpart who helped him years ago.”

“You’re not leaning toward a child?” Nadia asked.

“Not necessarily. It could be someone younger than he is but considered a peer.”

“Maybe the old guy brings in the women. We know how you attract the ladies boss.” Nadia’s smile infused her voice.

Color touched Jack’s cheeks.

“What can I say? When you got it, you got it. Now get to work.”

Jack disconnected the call.

I turned to him. “Going back to our first thoughts on this, if we go to the victim from two thousand and factor in a younger counterpart, possibly a child, working with the original unsub, he would have had to at least be in his teens at the time. Maybe the old guy died or retired, and something triggered the younger man to start up again. Although, it’s possible he never stopped, remained active, but no bodies were found. Either way, guessing him to be about fifteen then, that would put him in his mid-twenties today.”

She pulled against the chains secured around her wrists and ankles. The metal links slapped against the bed frame.

Where the hell am I?

She should be able to remember, but her mind was so foggy. Thoughts were impossible to form in any logical progression.

She remembered champagne, but nothing else was coming to her.

Frustrated, she thrashed against the restraints, but there was no give. She stopped moving when she heard the front door.

Oh, God, he was back.

Her heart paused beating, and she held her breath.

Please go away. Leave me alone!