In the Belly of Jonah (10 page)

Henry added, “That means you’ve narrowed down the weapon to something unusual, which is bound to help you locate whoever made the purchase.”

“If we ever figure out what it is that’s making the unusual cut pattern,”Streeter reminded her. “Look, let me send you these digitals so you can study them tonight. I’ll bring my files up and we can compare notes after we’ve drawn our own conclusions on this thing. I have enough that if you can compile some kind of profile for me by tomorrow night, I can fire a battery of questions your way so we can get this thing hemmed in.”

“Shouldn’t be too tough since I have my profile from the de Milo case. I want to see if my conclusions for you on that case morph or focus any more clearly after tomorrow,” Henry said.

“That’s what I was hoping,”Streeter confirmed. “Thanks, kiddo. I’ll see you at Brandt’s around eight.”

Lisa came through the door and shrugged out of her jacket. “Brrr. I forgot how cold it gets here.”

“It’s June.”

“It’s cold.”

I gave her a look. “You
have
forgotten, because Laramie is a helluva lot colder than it is here in Fort Collins. Don’t you remember stealing away on the weekends just to mall crawl or movie hop to warm up indoors? We used to think Fort Collins was like some tropical island for us compared to Siberia.”

“We did have a tendency to exaggerate, didn’t we?” Lisa said, plopping beside me on the couch.

I put my book down. “Exaggerate, my ass. During the five o’clock news, I saw where the high in Laramie today was fifty degrees compared to seventy here in Fort Collins. Can you imagine how cold it must have been six months ago?”

Lisa shivered. “I used to schedule my classes according to where the underground tunnels reached and how far away the buildings were from the tunnels.”

“No wonder you dropped the law dream. That building was a mile away,” I laughed.

“With no tunnels.”

Her words trailed and I could see that although she was trying to be relaxed, she was distracted by what she’d learned from her phone call. I wanted to give her the space she needed, but I was dying to know what she meant during our conversation just before she took the call.

“Lisa, you said ‘yes and no’ when I asked you whether the other victims had been cut the same way Jill had been. Did you mean yes and no about this being the gruesome handiwork of a serial killer, but this might be a copycat, or did you mean yes you have a serial killer on your hands and no there is not more than one body with a chunk cut out of it?”

“Uh-huh,” Lisa said, reading through the notes she had taken earlier in the day.

“Which uh-huh?” I asked.

“The second.”

“So this is a serial killer, but the other murder or murders did not exactly match Jill’s?”

“Right,” Lisa said. She peered over her notebook. “But remember, this is not for public consumption, Liv. You can’t be telling anyone what’s happening here.”

“I won’t, Lisa. I know you don’t want to panic people or incite the media. Tabloidic journalism is already an epidemic,” I opined.

“Tabloidic? Is that even a word?” Lisa grinned.

“No. But it should be. Was it good news?” I pointed to her cell phone on the coffee table.

“What? The call? Yeah, it was good news. The autopsy was done after you left, and Special Agent Pierce was giving me a brief update. He’s coming up tomorrow morning to spend the day.”

I have no idea what overtook me in the moment, but I was struck with a brilliant idea that I would reflect on ruefully days later. “Well, since you don’t have a hotel room, do you guys want to use this house as your base camp?”

“Headquarters, you mean?” Lisa said.

“Why not? I’ll be at work all day, and I won’t bother you guys a bit. I can stay out of your way and simply need a place to crash each night and shower in the morning. Otherwise, I’ll just camp out at work.”

Lisa laid her notebook on her lap. “You’d do that for us?”

“For
you
, and for Jill. I don’t know these other guys.”

“Thanks. We might take you up on that. I doubt it, though. We’re hoping to use Detective Brandt’s office as our makeshift headquarters, but it all depends on how dicey it gets with his boss.”

“Chief of Police Mel Richardson?” I asked. “Of Fort Collins? Well then, I better go buy more coffee and food, because both your FBI asses will be kicked to the curb as soon as you pull jurisdiction,” I said.

Lisa simply stared at me.

“Control freak,” I explained. “Even Detective Brandt may need somewhere to light after your meeting in the morning. Invite him along too.
Mi casa es su casa
.”

“You’re insane.”

“Like you said, some things never change.”

I pushed myself off the couch and went back to my bedroom, bringing out my desk chair and placing it in the kitchen. I went back to retrieve my computer, then my monitor, and set them on the kitchen table.

“What are you doing?” Lisa asked.

I motioned to her. “Come help me a minute.”

She followed me back to my bedroom, and together we carried the large desk into the living room. I set my end of the desk down next to the bare wall by the fireplace. She followed my lead. We pushed the couch against one wall and put the easy chairs opposite the couch centered by the coffee table. Within minutes, we had a war room.

“Local stations are on channels two, four, seven, nine, and fourteen. Fox News is on Channel 31, and I can never find CNN.”

I grabbed my coat and billfold and headed for the garage.

“Where are you going?”

“To the grocery store to stock up. When I get back, I expect you to have your car parked in the garage. I’ll be parking out on the street.”

“I can’t do that to you. This is your house,” she protested.

“It’s the least I can do for you. And for Jill, remember?” I leveled my gaze. “I want to help. This makes me feel a bit more useful.”

Lisa was dumbfounded. She stood, mouth agape, and stared. Shaking her head, she said, “You’re already letting me sleep here. I’ll eat your food, Liv. But I’m not using your garage. Okay?”

“You’re still stubborn. Thanks for letting me help by feeding you. It’s the very least I can do,” I said.

With that I was down the stairs and out the door that led into the garage.

My Explorer wasn’t there, and for a moment I couldn’t for the life of me recall what had happened to it. Then I remembered I had driven to Denver with the policewoman, leaving my SUV at work. I turned to go back inside when I saw through the garage window that someone had parked it in my driveway. Joe. He had given me a ride back from Denver and must have arranged to have someone bring the Explorer to me from work. I thought for the thousandth time that I didn’t know what I’d do without him.

As I drove away, I realized how the lights in my living room made the place come alive.

FRIDAYS ARE GREAT DAYS
at work. Although several of our customers operate seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day, three hundred sixty-five days a year, like we do, many don’t. Fridays tend to be the most relaxed days for those with a normal five-day workweek. The weekend allows us time to replenish our empty silos, as well as our tired bodies and overworked minds, and Fridays provide a perfect springboard to end the week productively with customers, vendors, and haulers.

I slipped out of the house before five-thirty, hoping to let Lisa sleep. I had heard her up reading, studying, and typing notes until two this morning. I prayed she and Agent Pierce would have a rewarding and successful day.

My first stop was at my office. After all, I had been at work for just a few hours the day before when I was whisked off to Denver by that awful policewoman. I had barely had enough time to call Brethren Social Assistance to arrange for an on-site grief counselor to be available yesterday afternoon for my employees. Probably could have used some time with them myself.

Speed reading through my e-mails and answering those that couldn’t wait until Monday, I focused on the stack of mail, reports, invoices, and requests in my inbox, quickly sorting and prioritizing my workload. After collecting all my voice mails and jotting down numbers so I could return calls, I glanced up at the clock. Eight fifteen. Lisa was at Detective Brandt’s office with Agent Pierce and Chief Richardson. Joe would be done with plant shift change and having set the direction for the quarry and maintenance crew. By now he’d be well into digging through his morning pile of invoices and messages.

I bounded down the hall, out the door, and nearly jogged toward Joe’s office trailer across the lot.

“How’d it go last night with BSA?”

Joe looked up from his pile of invoices. “They sent Cindy.”

“Great,” I answered. The employees were comfortable with Cindy; she was the one who conducted the annual Employee Assistance Program speeches each January. “Any major issues?”

Joe shook his head. Wounded, I thought as I read his eyes.

I offered a conciliatory smile, “Besides you?”

He offered a sad smile. “Everyone was thankful you brought Cindy in. No one wanted to ask her for one-on-one time, but they all hung pretty tight around her from about six to seven. Mostly plant guys.”

“Makes sense. The quarry guys didn’t know Jill as well as the rest of us.”

He nodded.

“And you?” I already knew the answer, but had to ask.

“Did I talk with Cindy? Nah,” Joe said. “I’m fine.”

“That’s what Jim Bowie told Davy Crockett at the Alamo,” I argued. That earned me a smile. “Have you cleaned out her locker, yet?”

Joe shook his head. “Didn’t know if Detective Brandt or Officer McDouglas would want to go through it first.”

Officer Jan McDouglas. The pushy policewoman. My cheeks burned. “Officer McDouglas can go—”

“Liv,” Joe warned. “Watch your language. New Year’s resolution, remember?”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a lost cause.

I knew that Lisa wanted me to keep up the illusion that Detective Brandt was the lead on this case and figured she and Agent Pierce would want anything we had of Jill’s that might help them piece things together.

“I doubt if Brandt or McSmarty-Pants will be back anytime soon. I wouldn’t want Jill’s stuff to get misplaced or rifled through by anyone but her parents. Let’s at least box it up and give it to the Brannigans.”

Sounded logical. The reality was I intended to take the box home, to the new FBI headquarters, considering it would be a cold day in hell before Chief Richardson ever let the FBI use Brandt’s office. Lisa and the Denver agent she was assigned to could go through all of Jill’s personal belongings and glean whatever they could.

“You really think Detective Brandt won’t be back up here? To question me?” Joe asked.

“No worries, Joe,” I answered. His secret about Jill’s thankful kiss on his cheek would be safe with me. “They may be back, but we can stick with what we know of Jill’s work and who she gravitated toward on breaks. Okay?”

Relief washed over his lined face.

“Come on,” I waved. “Let’s go clear out her locker.”

On my way out the door, I grabbed an empty box from the lab. Joe was close on my heels. We walked across the gravel road toward the plant, bypassing my office. Joe led me to the lower break room next to the unisex bathroom and tapped on the third locker from the left on the bottom row, indicating the one that had been assigned to Jill. The locker was padlocked.