Waking the Dead (15 page)
“Is well versed in the need for confidentiality,” Cait assured her levelly. “But I’ll remind her.”
“Good.” She started to move away, then paused, looking at the paintings on the computer screen again. “Never seen anything like it. Have you?”
Cait’s eyes returned to the image. “No. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Just look at them.
Indulgently, he watched his pets cover the dried roadkill deer carcass as they went to work. Such simple creatures, really, born only to feed and reproduce. But they did their job with such chilling thoroughness he could never help but be fascinated.
The large box he’d built for them was framed, with three sides of Plexiglas. The top of the structure was made of screen, with another sheet of Plexiglas laid on top that he could move to regulate the humidity inside the enclosure. He added to the substrate on the bottom frequently to give his pets a place to pupate. He estimated his colony at several hundred thousand now, because when he loved something, he took the best of care of it.
He could spend hours, his face pressed up against the glass, watching their progress. He fancied they worked as a tiny team, legs and mouths moving in unison to achieve a common purpose. People should demonstrate that level of cooperation. That sort of single-mindedness.
But it had been his experience that most people disappointed in the end.
Take his guest in the cellar. He tapped gently on the corner to encourage a beetle crawling there to return to the feast or miss out. The woman had grown really quite unpleasant. He’d never gotten used to the foul language used by some women these days. His mother had always been a lady, minding her tongue and only opening her mouth when she had something kind or helpful to say. She’d died when he was nine, but he remembered her perfectly.
Not like the childhood memories he worked so hard to forget.
He checked his watch. Sometimes he lost track of time watching his beloved pets. Hours would pass like minutes. Rising, he gave one last look at the beetles and moved reluctantly away. He’d check their progress in the morning, first light. He had to return to his workroom. Finish inking the drawing he’d started for the nasty lady in the next room. The sooner it was finished, the sooner he could be rid of her.
She wasn’t deserving, of course. Few of them were. But there was a right way and a wrong way to do anything, and unfortunately, the right way often took the most effort.
Swiftly he crossed the yard and entered his house through the back door. He locked it behind him before heading toward the cellar. But before he even got across the room, there was a knock at the door.
Picking up the pistol, he shoved it in his waistband at the base of his back, beneath his shirt. Then he hooked the curtain over the window of the front door with his finger, peeked outside.
His heart stopped. Then it started again like a locomotive picking up steam, barreling down the track. He unlocked the door, swung it open. “Hey, long time no see.” The tone just right. Casual. No telling who could be listening. Watching. “C’mon in.”
But when Sweetie walked in the door and after it was closed and locked, he opened his arms wide. “Gimme some sugar, baby.”
“We need to talk.” The words were muffled against his mouth, but the lips, those soft wonderfully curved lips, were eager under his. Minutes later, much too soon, the two of them parted.
“What’s this?” Sweetie’s hand tapped the pistol in the back of his pants. “Expecting trouble?”
“Mm-hmm. Found it, too.” He couldn’t keep the idiotic grin off his face. Unexpected surprises like this were the best kind. “How long can you stay?”
“Not very.”
Disappointment lodged in his throat. But he didn’t voice it. Sweetie always got emotional when he asked for more.
Someday
. The oft-repeated promise sounded in his mind.
Soon
.
Someday
. The oft-repeated promise sounded in his mind.
Soon
.
“God, when I got back to town and heard about the cops hauling those bodies out of Castle Rock, I totally freaked. What do they know? What have you heard?”
“I watched the press conference today. Don’t worry, the cops don’t have any leads. I didn’t leave them anything to go on.”
“So you say.”
The words wounded, but he knew there was no malice in them. Sweetie was the excitable sort. He was the calm one in this relationship.
“How was the trip with the kids?” He had to ask. Had to pretend that he cared, that every moment Sweetie spent away from him wasn’t torture.
“Oh, you know what kids are like on vacation.”
He didn’t actually, but gave a smile anyway. He tried to be satisfied with the stolen moments they could have together like this. But it was knowing that someday they’d be together forever that sustained him.
Sweetie slipped away and walked into the living room, falling onto the couch heavily. “I’m exhausted. It’s been a very long day. And I’ll be missed in another half hour or so.”
“Poor baby.” He wished he had something to offer, even a beer. But he hadn’t been to the store for a couple weeks. He was kicking himself now. This was no way to entertain the love of his life.
“No skulls, I heard.” There was an unmistakable note of worry in the words. “I know I’ve always left the disposal to you, but why didn’t they find any skulls?”
His gaze slid away from the expectant look fixed on him. “Insurance. It’s much harder to identify a skeleton without the skull. Trust me on that.”
“They aren’t going to find the heads later, are they? I hope there won’t be any other surprises cropping up?”
His attention snapped back. Was that disapproval in Sweetie’s tone? “No. They won’t find the skulls. It’s a bitch that they found the bodies, but there’s not a thing on those bones that could lead back to either one of us. I can tell you the whole process if you want. You never wanted to know the details before, but if you’ve changed your mind . . .”
The slight shudder was his answer. “No. I don’t have the stomach for it. You know that.”
A rush of tenderness filled him. He did know it. And being the strong one, the one to take care of the messy part, always made him feel protective.
He pushed out of his chair to go to the couch. Sank down on it. “Everything’s going to be fine.” He lifted his hand to stroke away the concern from the face he loved so much.
“What about the other one I brought you? The news said only seven sets of remains were brought out of the cave.”
He gave a moment’s thought to the woman in the basement. Sweetie would be livid to know she was still alive. “Everything’s taken care of.” It
was
. The bag of bones was disposed of and the woman . . . his bugs would be feasting on her very soon. But there was a right way to do these things. He alone knew what it was. Just as he knew that Sweetie would never understand.
was
. The bag of bones was disposed of and the woman . . . his bugs would be feasting on her very soon. But there was a right way to do these things. He alone knew what it was. Just as he knew that Sweetie would never understand.
“Good.” The word was spoken on a stream of relief. “I didn’t doubt you. I know you’ll never let me down.”
“I won’t.” He leaned forward to press his lips to that soft well-formed mouth and felt a familiar clutch of need in his gut.
“I have to go in a few minutes.” But the muffled voice was weak.
And he knew what the words really meant. Didn’t he always know what was going on in that sexy mind? Swiftly he undid buttons and zippers and lowered them both to a lying position.
“That gives us plenty of time.”
Sharper’s vehicle was already in the lot when Cait pulled up to the General Store. But before joining him, she took a minute to dial Detective Drecker’s number in Seattle. Unsurprised to get his voice mail, she left a brief message. “Detective, I can’t explain now, but ask Recinos’s mother whether these items were meaningful to her daughter—ballet, skis, fish, gum, computer, picture frame, and convertible.” She rattled off the list without thinking twice. Her memory never failed her. Her sense of direction was another story.
She disconnected, already second-guessing herself. The images painted on the scapula of female C were pretty generic. They could have meaning for a lot of people without it signifying a connection to the bones they’d found.
But they’d all have to have more than a superficial meaning for the victim, unless the pictures held symbolism for only the UNSUB. And the sooner they found out which, the quicker she could finalize her behavioral profile.
Locking her SUV, she strode toward Sharper’s vehicle. Her pace was in contrast to the reluctance pooling in her gut. After their last meeting, she wasn’t overly anxious to see him again.
She was even less anxious to let him know he’d gotten to her. On any level.
Yanking open the passenger door of his Trailblazer, she climbed in and buckled up. “Sharper,” she said, by way of greeting.
He barely grunted in response as he shifted the vehicle into gear and pulled slowly out onto the highway. “This is a fucking needle in a haystack. You know that don’t you?”
Irrationally, his disgruntled tone had something inside her relaxing. “I’ve been fine, thanks. How about you? Had that chip surgically removed from your shoulder yet?”
One corner of his mouth lifted, but his profile remained steely. “Smartass. Hope you’ve got comfortable boots on. We’re going to be doing a helluva lot of walking. The Willamette Forest covers over a million and a half acres.”
“Luckily for you I’m only interested in half of that.” She smirked when he gave her a quick sideways glance. “Or less.” She unfolded a map to smooth it across her thighs and studied it while he drove. “We’ll start with a five-mile radius around Castle Rock. Then we can widen the radius if needed. The way I understand it, there aren’t state or national parks in the area.”
“No, but there are parks with campsites, which fall under the jurisdiction of the Forest Service.”
Which is where Barnes had gotten his information. “We’re looking for two individuals who have a long list of violations with the Forest Service.”
“You want to track down every single person who’s run afoul of them, you’re going to have to find another guide. I don’t have that kind of time.”
Ignoring him, she went on. “From what I’ve heard, these guys live in the forest year-round. Maybe you’ve run across them yourself on hiking tours you’ve arranged.”
It was impossible to see his eyes behind the mirrored glasses he wore. “I don’t lead all the tours. I’ve got employees. And most of the ones I do are on the river.”
She restrained the urge to grit her teeth, a common reaction when she was with him. “You live around here. You spend a lot of time in the area.” But when she told him the names, he merely lifted a shoulder.
“Like I say, this is pointless. There are lots of people who drop out. Who live off the land because they just want to be left the hell alone. And these type of people are transient.”
“And you’re the best tracker in the area, or so I’m told. Who better to find them?” She folded up the map she was studying and pulled out the one from NRCS. Hopefully she’d be able to combine two tasks and get some soil samples while they were trailing down these two.
“And when we do find them?”
When
, she noted, not
if
. “Then I’ll have a few questions to ask them.”
, she noted, not
if
. “Then I’ll have a few questions to ask them.”
“Sounds like a stupid idea to me. You can’t believe one of these guys dumped those bodies. Who are they going to come in contact with, living the way they do? Locals and tourists.” He slowed, and turned right onto an unmaintained dirt road. Another logging road? “If there had been locals and tourists disappearing from the area, don’t you think law enforcement would have heard about it?”
His reasoning was sound, as far as it went. She looked out the window, noting the way the trees crowded the road. “If they’re living in the forest most of the time, they might have seen something; ever think of that?”
“If they did, they won’t want to talk about it.” He eased the Trailblazer to the side of the narrow road and turned off the ignition. “These sorts live the way they do for a reason. They aren’t your typical Joe Citizen. And they probably aren’t going to like cops.”
She gave him a blinding smile. “I’m not exactly a cop. And I’m very persuasive.” Getting out of the vehicle, she stopped for a moment to shoulder the pack she’d brought.
Sharper shrugged into his own before rounding the front of the car and joining her. “Listen.”
His voice stopped her as she was about to plunge into the forest. Quizzically, she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. His uneasy expression piqued her interest. But his words dampened it even more quickly. “About last time. When I found you at my place . . .”
Her stomach gave a quick violent twist. “Forget it.” There was no way she was going any further down
that
road with him. She turned to scan the area, saw what was likely an abandoned logging trail leading into the forest. “I’ve got old DMV photos of both the men we’re looking for. Even considering the aging process, I’m pretty sure I’ll recognize them if we find them.”
that
road with him. She turned to scan the area, saw what was likely an abandoned logging trail leading into the forest. “I’ve got old DMV photos of both the men we’re looking for. Even considering the aging process, I’m pretty sure I’ll recognize them if we find them.”
“And what’re you going to do then, shoot them?” He lifted a derisive brow at her pointed look. “Think I can’t tell when someone’s carrying? Lower back, under your shirt.”
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