The Seventh Sons (Sycamore Moon Series Book 1) (12 page)

The suicides over the falls weren't the whole story—they had only been the beginning. Down here, hidden away from the prying eyes of judicial morality, was something much larger. What had happened here was beyond his imagination, and he needed the full resources of the police to fill in the blanks. Maxim had to help him now.

For a final moment, Diego de la Torre stared in awe as he realized he was standing in an underwater graveyard. Then he coughed out air and released the drum. With an exhilarating push, the biker kicked up and shot to the surface.

 

 

 

 

 

Seventeen dumped bodies. While Maxim had been occupied with misery and drink at Sycamore Lodge, Diego had traced the disposal of a dead man in the desert and found sixteen others who shared the same watery grave.

Maxim gazed into his black coffee as if he were peering into the murky depths of Paradise Tank. The answers were muddled, but it was only a matter of time before forensics would light the path to justice. Criminals messed up and evidence didn't lie; that was the entire basis for the detective's job. Still, the confidence Maxim had in the results didn't make the waiting any easier.

A heavy breeze blew through old Flagstaff and nearly took his plastic cup's cover with it. Maxim snatched it from the patio table and clipped it into place on top of his coffee, shaking his head. For as expensive as a cup of joe was these days, he would have appreciated a solid mug. But this town sure did love its to-go cups.

Sipping the hot drink eased his complaints. The detective relaxed in the sun and glanced at the Coconino County Morgue across the street. This was the third full day after the discovery, and Maxim had made a point to check in daily. He was getting impatient for the test results, but he had been promised that today would be the day.

It felt good to be useful again, he thought, to be engaged with a purpose.

Upon the grim discovery, Diego had found a call box and rung the detective first thing. He led Maxim to the site that was unmarked on satellite imagery, then disappeared. The biker wanted to remain anonymous in the investigation so he had more leeway to make moves. At this point, Maxim couldn't begrudge him that much.

That night dredging the tank had been a long one filled with a restless hangover and many similar cups of coffee to the one he was cradling now. The following days were just as hectic in entirely different ways.

Maxim had coordinated with the county police, spoken with all the major media outlets, and done endless research. By now, he knew this case was already mostly out of his hands—he was only a local Sanctuary detective after all—but he was determined to see where the facts pointed. Since Maxim was receiving all credit for the discovery, it was easy to get people to talk to him.

A tall woman in a dark suit exited the morgue. She wore a pink belt with a matching purse and heels and her ponytail flew like a banner in the wind. Maxim chuckled. Only Nithya Rao would think of dressing up so nicely in such a place. Her well-defined features and confident stride exuded the air of a woman who was on top of things.

Because of his frantic schedule, Maxim wasn't sure where the CDC agent had been over the last few days. This finding had been plastered all over the news so she had doubtless heard about it, but it appeared that Nithya now had an active interest in the case. He had run into her as he was leaving the morgue this morning, and she had asked to speak with him afterwards. So here he sat, waiting a longer time than her work should have taken, drinking his expensive coffee, and watching as she waved at him and then veered inside the shop to get one of her own.

Sure, he thought, he'd wait some more.

He had to admit, being on the receiving end of her smile was nice. The detective let his mind imagine more pleasant circumstances and didn't even notice when she reappeared.

"Coconino is one of the largest counties in the nation," she said with the melodic annunciation only a British national could muster, "and relatively one of the most sparsely populated. How on Earth did you manage to come across these bodies?" Nithya sat down opposite him and crossed her legs under the small mesh table.

"I'm the police," Maxim answered casually. "People come to me for help."

"Mmm hmm," she hummed, playing along. "Perhaps you are too large for the cramped confines of Sanctuary. Not only do you break a case in the deep desert, but I must also wonder what you are doing here in Flagstaff as we speak?"

"That's funny. I was wondering the same thing about you."

Nithya squinted her brown eyes in amusement as she sipped some coffee. "Just due diligence, Detective. Mass deaths like these need to be vetted for cause. The CDC needs to rule out any outbreaks of disease."

"Or identify any, you mean."

"Of course. I spoke with the medical examiner and the lab. All the victims in question were asphyxiated, probably strangled. Post-mortem toxicology found nothing unusual."

Maxim started. "They've released the results already?" Brody was useless. The medical examiner had promised the detective he would be the first to know.

"The morgue only has preliminary conclusions, but I have spoken directly with the pathologist at the lab. His results will funnel down soon enough. Regardless, it has been determined that there is no need for CDC intervention, and I will be leaving the matter to the good people of the Coconino County Sheriff's Office. You should do the same."

It sounded like the feds were making moves behind the scenes. In truth, Maxim had been doing the same, but even though his intentions were noble, he couldn't help but be leery about the news.

"Don't you know me better than that, Nithya?"

The woman smiled. "Perhaps not well enough yet." Her sharp eyebrows softened and Maxim felt drawn to her deep brown eyes. "I do suppose adding a serial killer to your resume would get you noticed by the FBI."

Maxim wasn't buying it. "This is the organized work of multiple people. The dumping alone involved two men: the trucker to deliver the barrel and the man to sink it. And we still don't know where or when the trucker picked it up."

"Or from whom." Nithya rubbed her forehead and nodded. "I understand that the sheriff's office raided a residence?"

"I was there," said Maxim. "The old man who lived in the farmhouse had cleared out. Coconino found his pickup truck the next day in the middle of the desert. Neither provided leads. I don't think we'll be able to identify the truck company or driver either."

Nithya was listening intently but seemed distracted. She was rubbing her forehead as if she were in pain.

"Long night?" asked Maxim.

She just sighed and kept kneading her temples. "Maybe a long night is what I need." She went into her purse and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. "So you have no forensics or suspects in custody. What about the identities of the victims?"

Maxim sat up excitedly. "Now you're getting into my area of expertise." He moved his coffee cup aside as he emphatically pressed two fingers on the table. "Two of the victims were known to have passed through Sanctuary. All of them were transients. Many of them lived on various campgrounds throughout the area. Some of them were probably loners heading west or locals down on their luck. Either way, they were all easily exploitable victims. They didn't have bills to pay, appointments to meet, or families to bemoan their absence. Nobody missed them."

Nithya raised an eyebrow as she considered the facts. "Quick work." She shook out two pills from the aspirin bottle and chugged them down with some coffee. Maxim gave her a disgusted look. "What is it?" she asked.

"I've just never seen anyone take medicine with a hot drink before. It's a bit..." he trailed off, watching her amused expression.

"Savage?"

Maxim considered. "I was going to say drastic."

A light chuckle escaped her lips. "Believe me, Maxim, when you get headaches as often as I do, the definition of drastic changes."

He couldn't argue with that. They sat in silence for a moment, and Maxim caught himself smiling. It was funny, he thought. It was the small things, the items of no consequence, that endeared us to people.

"At any rate," she continued, "the clues are still lacking, but congratulations are in order. I understand why the marshal thinks highly of you."

Great.

Maxim was sure to get a commendation, possibly a promotion, if he saw this through, but that wasn't what this was about. He wouldn't be satisfied with a pat on the back. Gone were the days when jurisprudence trumped justice. Maxim looked down at the silver ring on his finger and felt that he couldn't leave the conversation at that, even if it wasn't wise to bring up his concerns with Nithya. He smiled at her and wondered what they each truly thought of the other. In the end, he decided that she deserved a chance.

"I think the motorcycle club is involved."

She looked startled. "The Seventh Sons?"

"Let me back up," said Maxim, trying to lay the foundation to his theory. "These abductions all occurred over the last two years. Sanctuary also had three suicides over the falls in the same span, along with..."

He paused for a second and the CDC agent put her hand on his and finished his sentence. "Your wife." As he looked up she reassured him. "She wasn't amongst the dead, Maxim."

He shook his head back and forth as he considered Lola's involvement. She certainly didn't fit well into his theory. "Setting her aside, initial indications are that all the dumped bodies were killed after the three suicides. I contend that both sets of crimes were part of the same abduction scheme."

She didn't look convinced. "Is there any physical evidence to support that claim? Were the suicide victims also strangled?"

He sighed. It was true that the bodies of the jumpers didn't arouse suspicion. Even after exhuming the bodies days ago, they had withstood the scrutiny of the part-time Sanctuary medical examiner. But that had been when Maxim wasn't thinking straight. His thoughts were clouded by Lola's betrayal, by his failure. He didn't see the whole picture. Now that he knew about the dumped bodies, he was taking a closer look at all the moving parts.

"They appeared to die from injuries sustained after falling a great distance," Maxim admitted.

"Were they also vagrants?"

"No," countered Maxim, "but hear me out. Isolated residents of Sanctuary go missing but are later found over the falls. The deaths are explained, but while less suspicious than homicides, the uptick in suicides can't be dismissed. Our killers have a problem. They are beginning to attract attention so they need to become more refined."

Nithya finished her coffee and listened intently.

"Sanctuary is small," he said. "Why choose victims from a pool that will be noticeable when you can pull from Greater Sycamore? Most of the forest is wild and unincorporated and governed by County. For that matter, why choose upstanding members of society when you can pick up—"

"Transients." She made a move for Maxim's cup and he waved for her to go ahead. It was his third one this morning anyway. She nodded her appreciation and took a sip and returned her hand to Maxim's. The contact felt nice. It was something he had been without for a long time.

"It's an interesting theory," she said. "Questionable supporting evidence, but compelling nonetheless. What does any of it have to do with the Seventh Sons?"

Maxim smiled coolly. "During the raid, Makarova seemed to implicate Doka in the suicides. Those men went over the falls, for sure, but what if they had been pushed?"

"The two dead wolves." Nithya shook her head slowly and incredulously. "Carlos—"

"I know. Doka wasn't one of them. Not really. But he's a wolf with strong ties to them. He was working with some of the club members, possibly under Deborah's nose. He tried to silence Diego when he went looking for his missing sister."

The woman wore a troubled expression as she pondered his words. "The other man you arrested and released?" A light went on in her head. "He was the man in black leather at the clubhouse, wasn't he?"

Maxim stopped. He hadn't meant to reveal the biker's involvement, but he had been in the arrest report. At this point, Nithya would look him up and find out the truth anyway. There was no sense turning back now. "Ex-PHSCC."

Her eyebrows rose. "You reveal your resources. Now I understand where much of your knowledge has come from."

Maxim had to bite his tongue. Diego wasn't his only resource.

Another long silence passed between them, but the detective's thoughts were less pleasant this time. If only he could get inside Nithya's head. She tapped her short fingernails playfully on his wrist. She could sense his dismay. He could tell she was trying to put his mind at ease, but he couldn't rest until he saw this through. Even though the case was in the jurisdiction of the Coconino County Sheriff's Office, even if the CDC didn't help, Maxim needed to follow this rabbit hole deeper. It just felt right.

"If I can be truthful," she proposed in a helpful manner, "I would offer that perhaps your proximity to these events is clouding your judgment. An outside observer, with the benefit of separation, might make different conclusions."

Maxim pulled his hand back from the touch of her long fingers. "And if I didn't know you better, as a third party, I might think that you were protecting the club."

Nithya Rao's large pupils revealed surprise but didn't feign offense. "Does it really appear that way?" She let a quick breath escape her lips. "Open your eyes, Maxim. I am not their favorite person after the events at the clubhouse. I am just working from empirical evidence. Show me something solid, give me something that surpasses the realm of a hunch, and my agency can help you."

Maxim watched her gulp down the rest of his coffee and felt foolish. He didn't know why; he had planned on confronting her. This had been what he wanted, but he still felt as if he'd made a mistake. He was doing too much second guessing around her and that was bad. Thoroughness was one thing; doubt was much more insidious.

"I just know," he offered, "that Deborah is lying to me. She knows something that she's not admitting."

Nithya clasped Maxim's arm once again and pulled it closer to her across the table. She had a mischievous smirk. "I suppose a detective can never be satisfied knowing only a part of the whole."