Field of Graves (28 page)

Baldwin was shaking his head. “Wow. This guy is getting around. How long had she been in the water?”

“At least a couple of weeks. Taylor suggested she might have been a test case.”

“That’s an excellent thought, given the timing. This case is so screwed up.” He turned to Taylor, who was enthusiastically blowing her nose. “Better?” She nodded, blew out a breath. “Good. How was your conversation with Shelby’s mom?”

Taylor tested her voice and found it working properly. “She wanted us to know Shelby had been date-raped. More than once, according to her mother. She called and told her the weekend before she died. She wouldn’t tell her who had done it; she was scared to death of the guy. But she promised that she was going to go to the campus police and report the rape. That’s probably why her roommate was so evasive when we asked if she was seeing anyone. I got the sense she suspected Shelby was involved with someone. She was involved, all right, with some son of a bitch who was forcing her to have sex with him. Bastard!”

“There’s our motive for Shelby’s murder. She tells him she’s going to the police, and he has to kill her to make sure he’s not found out.” Baldwin’s eyes drifted off, and he was silent for a moment. His eyes came back into focus, and he gave them a huge grin. “That’s it. That explains the herbs you found on Shelby. They
were
burial herbs.”

Both Sam and Taylor were looking at him blankly.

“You don’t get it? Okay, roll with me for a minute. He left her at the Parthenon. The ancient Greeks, hell, most of the ancient cultures used herbs during a burial to ensure that the spirit of the deceased made it into the spirit world without problem. That’s what he was doing. In his mind, he
was
giving her a proper burial. I’ll be damned. And I’ll bet he put her at the Parthenon so we would understand, that we would pick up on the connection and know that he was reluctant to kill her but had no choice. That he gave her the most proper and sympathetic burial he possibly could. And the aconite. The aconite!”

Taylor and Sam were staring with their mouths agape. Either he was right on target, or he’d gone round the bend. He shook the hair out of his eyes and launched back in.

“You know Socrates was unjustly sentenced to death and was forced to create his own execution? So in order to maintain his dignity, he drank hemlock, effectively committing suicide?”

They still looked confused, but Taylor motioned with her hand. “Go on, Baldwin.”

“Man, didn’t you guys ever study the classics? Anyway, there’s always been some debate over whether it was actually hemlock that he drank. The descriptions of his death weren’t completely consistent with hemlock poisoning. In some circles, they believe it was aconite.”

“Wait a minute. So you’re saying that the herbs were a burial rite, and the aconite was to symbolize Socrates’s death?” Sam was shaking her head, looking at them like they were crazy. But Taylor took it a step further.

“I see where you’re going, Baldwin. The guy knows the classics. Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, the fathers of modern logic. The ancient Greeks and their rash of poisonings. This MO was logical to him. If he gave the girls poison, they would be purged, cleansed, right? You said early on that he was sacrificing them. Socrates had to sacrifice himself to save his dignity, to make sure no one thought he was a coward. What better way to sacrifice them than by following the lead of one of the greatest philosophers in the world?” She trailed off.

He took her hand and squeezed it. “In his world, Taylor. In his world. We’ve got him.”

58

Jill began to wake. She had been dreaming of something, but she couldn’t remember it exactly. She felt peaceful and happy, so it must have been a good dream.

She started to get out of the bed and realized where she was. Locked in a room by a man she thought cared for her. She started screaming his name as loud as she could, desperate to know what was going on.

“Hello? Hello? Are you here?” There was no response. She yelled louder. “Is anyone there? Help me, please, help me! He’s holding me prisoner. Please, somebody help!”

She heard footsteps running down the hall. The locks turned and the man came into the room. He was disheveled and looked ill. There was sweat dripping off his brow, and his face was gray, as though no blood was reaching it. He came over to the bed, breathing heavily. Jill scooted out from under the covers and tried to back away, but he was too quick. He grabbed her and nearly threw her back onto the bed.

“Don’t do that again, Jill. I’m warning you.”

She had never heard that tone from him. It was angry, threatening. His body was tensed, and she feared for a moment that he would hit her. She cowered on the bed.

The man reached in his pocket and drew out a syringe. His entire demeanor changed. He smiled sweetly and transformed into the man she knew. But she was afraid now, afraid that he was actually going to hurt her.

Jill began to beg. “Oh God, please, no. Don’t give me any more of that. I swear I’ll be good. Please, just let me go home.”

He shook his head sadly and chucked her under the chin. She flashed to an old memory of her grandfather—he used to ball his fist and gently bump her under the chin just the same way. “Chin up, girl,” he always said.

He grabbed her hand, and his touch made her shudder. His hand was cold and clammy, and she tried to yank hers back. But he held fast, caressing her fingers one by one.

“Oh, my sweet, darling girl, I wish I could let you go. But there is a bad world out there, a world that is conspiring to hurt you. There are men who want to take you away from me, but I need to keep you close, by my side. I need to know my son is safe. They will take him away from us, away from me. I am his father. I need to show him the way. I’m the only one who can help him, guide him. He has so many things to do to save us, and it is my responsibility to let the world understand his importance. Don’t you understand? I have taken all the steps I know of to keep both of you safe. But it’s better for you not to fight. I hate to see you anxious, and it’s not good for my son. You just need to stay calm and relaxed. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Jill started crying. She knew he was crazy, and what he was saying made no sense. His son was going to save them? Save them from what?

“Please, I don’t understand. Let me go home. I know my family’s frightened to death. I don’t even know how long it’s been since you brought me here.” She saw she wasn’t getting anywhere and decided to try a different tactic. She was willing to tell him anything to make him let her go. She pitched her voice low, seductive.

“I love you, you know that. I’ll always come back to you. I’d never take your child from you. Why have you changed so much? Please, just let me go, or let me call my parents and tell them I’m okay.”

Her pleading was having no effect on him. He held the syringe up to the light, checking for air bubbles. “Soon, love. Soon, you’ll be able to see them. After my son is born.” He pulled her arm straight and injected the drug into her vein. “You rest now, and be a good girl. I’ll tell you a bedtime story.” He fluffed up her pillows and pulled the blanket up around her chin, stopping briefly to put his hand on her growing belly.

“Do you remember Plato?”

She nodded weakly; whatever drug he was giving her was already taking effect.

“Then you remember the story of Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. Where all of humanity was kept underground, in the dark, chained to their seats, their heads immobilized? And the only things they were allowed to see were the shadows on the walls. Remember the puppet masters? Those who controlled the images of what humanity was allowed to see? They’d show humanity the shadow of a woman, or a chair, or a mouse, and that was the only representation they would ever know as a woman, or a chair, or a mouse. But one man was strong enough to break the chains, and he snuck out of the cave into the real world. The sunlight was so strong his eyes teared and stung, and when he could finally adjust to the light, he saw what a real woman looked like, and a real chair, and a real mouse. And he ran back into the cave to tell the others, to let humanity know they were being tricked, duped into believing what the puppet masters wanted them to believe.”

He ran his hand lovingly across Jill’s cheek. She didn’t resist, and he could tell she’d fallen under the spell of the morphine he had given her. He felt himself stir, but it wouldn’t be right. He couldn’t take the chance that he would harm the child.

She was so lovely, her mouth slightly open as she slipped into sleep. Oh, just a moment or two of that softness couldn’t hurt. He’d be so gentle and sweet.

He loosened his pants and pulled down the blanket. Jill was naked in the bed, and he stretched out beside her. As he entered her unconscious body, he whispered the rest of the story in her ear.

“And the man returned to the cave, but humanity was stupid and didn’t believe him. They finally got fed up with his lies and killed him. But no, my darling, that won’t be the fate of our son. He will be strong, strong enough to lead them all out of the cave, into the light, and let the lives of all those worthy begin again.”

59

After an hour of arguing, Taylor relented and agreed to head home for the night. The whole crew had ganged up on her, insisting that she was too sick to go through another all-nighter. They’d all had rest, and she hadn’t. Marcus and Fitz had taken it upon themselves to secure a warrant for the records of all the professors from the classics and theology departments at Vanderbilt, and were on their way with a court order to drag Vanderbilt’s dean out of bed to gain access to the names of their possible suspects. Lincoln was setting up to run the names they retrieved through his databases and look for past indiscretions that would help solidify their case. Price had practically forced her out the door, handing her jacket and purse to her and walking her to the stairs that led to the parking lot.

Baldwin drove her into the night, stopping briefly at the Walgreens drive-through to pick up a prescription for antibiotics Taylor’s doctor had called in for her. He followed her directions and got her home.

Taylor lived in a remote, rambling log house with lots of windows, perched on several acres of land. She loved watching the animals, kept the bird feeders full all year and salt licks out for the deer. The inside of the house was as comfortable as the outside, with a soft leather sofa, throw rugs, and a big fireplace with logs stacked perfectly on the brick hearth. A second-story loft overlooked the open living/dining room, and Taylor made her bedroom up there, along with her precious pool table. She was as dependent on the table as she would have been on a drug to help her relax in the middle of her sleepless nights. It was a great pastime for an insomniac. She had an office set up in the bedroom downstairs, with inset bookcases filled with everything from hardbound classics to paperback mysteries. It was lived-in, comfortable, away from the world she had to deal with day in and day out. It was a little lonely at times, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. It was a casual and comfortable lifestyle for her.

Seeing Baldwin in her space confused her. He fit so well. As if he’d been a part of her world from the beginning.

Baldwin got Taylor laid out on her couch, a mug of steaming green tea sitting on the coffee table next to her. Taylor was impressed by his domesticity and bedside manner. He had been clucking over her like a mother hen since they got to her place, and was currently in her kitchen, using her pots and pans to make her an omelet. Normally, she would have been uncomfortable having him wait on her hand and foot, but she felt so lousy, she didn’t have the strength to argue. She relaxed a little, letting herself enjoy his ministrations. She heard him humming to himself as he put together her food, then laughing and scolding the cat for trying to get into the eggs.

As he came back into the living room carrying their dinner, he couldn’t help but notice that despite being sick, run-down, and sleepless for two nights, Taylor looked beautiful. She’d changed clothes when they’d gotten there, and was casually dressed in cutoff jeans and a long-sleeved University of Tennessee T-shirt; her bare feet revealed toenails polished hooker red, which surprised him a bit. She didn’t seem the type. He was surprised to find himself wondering how he could fit into the sanctuary Taylor had created for herself.

He shook his head, laughing quietly. Man, he was getting the cart before the horse. But he recognized he was finally coming back to life, and he liked how he felt when he was with her. As strange as it was, he sensed that it was right.

They ate together in silence, both anticipating their next moves. Baldwin finished his eggs, pushed the plate away, and gave Taylor a smile.

“You want me to make a fire?”

“Aren’t you just the little domestic?” she teased. “Yes, that would be nice. Thanks.” She settled in deeper, grabbed her cup of tea, and watched him. She was drawn to him in a way she couldn’t understand. It was more than lust: Though he was a very handsome man, he was still much too thin and had dark circles under his eyes. But she could sense the change in his energy. The sense of purpose he carried with him was palpable.

He got the fire lit and returned to the chair facing the sofa. “Can I get you anything else? More tea? More food? Soup? You have some nasty canned stuff in the pantry. I could heat it up for you?”

“Nasty canned stuff? Thanks for the commentary on my taste. No, I’m fine. I just want to sit here and relax. It seems like weeks since I even sat down.”

“It has been a crazy couple of days.”

“Do you think Fitz and Marcus have found anything yet?”

“Taylor, they told you they’d call the minute they had anything worthwhile. There have to be thirty or so professors for them to look at, and the school is still closed after the storm. It’s going to take them some time. They’re good cops. They won’t miss anything.”

“I know. I just feel so stupid lying here doing nothing.” She coughed.

“Like you coughing and sneezing all over the faculty at Vandy is going to help things? C’mon, Taylor, give yourself a break. Let’s give them some time, and we’ll call and check on their progress later. Why don’t we just talk about something other than the case for a bit?”