Silent Graves (17 page)

Chapter 31

The call came from Rick Lane, a supervisor with the FBI Evidence Response Unit, and he told us we needed to get to Keyes’s cabin immediately.

The smell reached out of the cabin like an invisible hand, grabbing hold. Maybe it was because I knew what was inside.

It overshadowed the scent of Jack’s cigarette, reducing its strength to a talc powder. Glancing over at the rest of the team, I saw they were experiencing the same reaction, except for Jack of course. The man seemed untouchable.

The stout forensic supervisor waited inside the front door. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn he wanted to run out of the place, but his legs had him grounded to the floor. Lane shook hands with the four of us, ending with Jack.

“What I told you over the phone? Yeah, it doesn’t even begin to describe the real thing. This way.” He turned and we followed him through the living area to the bathroom. “Found it in the toilet. The smell’s enough to really make the eyes water in here.”

Jack went in ahead of us and stood over the toilet. We were in the hallway watching him. His eyes pinched shut for an instant, and I wondered if the smell, combined with what he saw, got to him.

I had rushed to a conclusion too quickly. His energy spoke of angry determination.

“Nothing’s been touched?”

“Coburn took photos. That’s all. I wanted you and your team to see her just as she was found.”

Jack stepped out, and the rest of us took our turns inside the little room of horror.

I worked to prepare my mind to handle what I was going to see. I factored in the smell, the obvious level of decomp, the size of a toilet bowl. My fortitude slipped some when Paige came out and placed a hand on my shoulder.

It was my turn.

I took a deep breath, coughing on the acrid scent, instantly sorry for having done it. The team’s eyes were on me, but, more importantly, Jack’s were. I had to prove to him I could handle this type of thing—prove, in fact, that I could manage anything thrown my way.

I had seen a lot in my few months as part of this team. I looked down. How bad could this—

The gagging sensation gurgled in my throat and rushed up my esophagus like a speeding train.

“Looks like Pending’s gonna blow, boss.”

“Shi—” My hand snapped to my mouth. Bile coated my tongue in its acidic, slimy texture. I tried to swallow. My stomach heaved. I needed to get out of there. Now. If not, I was going to—

Time was up.

I turned to the sink beside the toilet and emptied the contents of my stomach.

“Whoa Pending.” Zachery was clapping. “Nice job. At least you missed the remains.”

Another round struck—the bile shooting up like a geyser, splatting the sink again.

Paige came behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you out of—”

“Can’t handle it.” Zachery was laughing.

“Shut up, Zach. You’re not helping,” Paige said.

I glanced over at the doorway and saw Jack. I shrugged Paige off me. “Leave. I can.” The only way I could talk was in short bursts.

“Yeah, it sure sounds like it.” She left the room, possibly angered and embarrassed by my rejection.

I had just vomited twice. Her pride was really the last thing that worried me. What if Jack thought I was incompetent for the job? What if he kicked me off the team?

I rinsed out the sink, swished the water around, and watched chunks of my stomach contents do a dance around the drain opening before they disappeared. I splashed cold water on my face and slapped my cheeks. I would take a glimpse at the remains again. This time with focus. This time without vomiting.

I braced myself on the sink for a few seconds and willed myself to go through with this. I closed my eyes and centered my vision. I coached myself—I had been there, done that.

Okay. I sprung up and positioned myself in front of the toilet.

The head of Amy Rogers sat in a bowlful of light pink water. Her brown hair swirled around her head, floating there like a twisted halo. Maggots the size of quarters fed off her flesh, crawling on her, coming out of her nostrils, mouth, and ears. Her eyes, clouded in milky decay, were wide open, as if screaming from death at the atrocity that had come to her remains.

My stomach compressed, but there was nothing left to expel. Instinctively, I laid a hand over my abdomen.

“He’s gonna blow again,” Zachery said.

When I straightened out, I was happy to see that only he was standing there. I walked past him to the front steps and took up a standing position beside Jack who was talking with Rick Lane.

“She was dead when she was decapitated,” Lane said.

Both men acknowledged me with a quick glance and then carried on with their conversation. Lane continued his point. “For one, there would have been a lot more blood. Question is how, or even why, would Keyes put the head of a victim in his toilet? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Hmm.”

Zachery and Paige joined us outside.

“Agree, boss,” Zachery said.

Paige put her hands on her hips. “Like we said before, he could have wanted to get caught.”

Jack’s eyes took in his team. I wondered what was going through his mind.

He addressed Lane. “We need to figure out when she was put in there. If it was during the last six hours, we know it wasn’t Keyes. Any time before that and Keyes could still be our killer. We need to find out where Sydney Poole is and if she’s still alive.”

“Absolutely. I’ve called in for more backup here too. We’ll be tripping over each other, but it will mean everything is covered. We won’t miss anything.”

“I have faith in that.”

Was Jack smiling?

“Of course, it’s not forensics that solve crime, it’s the investigators.”

“You’ve been drinking martinis on shift Harper? We’ve been through this. Without forensic evidence to back you guys up, nothing would be open and shut.”

After seconds of staring at each other, both men laughed.

“Come on guys. We’ve got work to do.” Lane snapped his fingers, and his expression turned serious. “We have evidence of sexual activity in the bed, and, looking at things under the ultraviolet light, there are possibly several contributors. Of course, the bedding’s been collected and will be fully analyzed. If there’s DNA to be found anywhere, we’ll find it.”

“Expect no less.” Jack pulled out a cigarette and lit up. The smoke ascended heavenward with his exhale. His eyes were on me until it dissipated and then narrowed a trace. “Want one, Kid?” He smiled the way he did when mocking me, crooked, with the right side of his mouth rising higher than the left.

“One thing that really stands out, next to the dirty bedding, is the cleanliness of the place. Anyway, I better be going.” Lane excused himself and went back into the cabin.

Jack turned to Paige. “Fill me in on your visit to the nursing home.”

“Ken Campbell was just as Barbara Wilson told us he’d be. He’s in advanced stages of Alzheimer’s. He went in and out on us a few times.”

She filled us in on a person nicknamed Ladies’ Man. “Campbell gave us the name Steve but no last name. I had Nadia do a quick check on the employees at the trucking company where Campbell and Wilson worked, but there weren’t any Steves.”

“Hmm.” Jack extinguished the cigarette on the ground.

I wondered if I were the only one thinking along these lines. “I have a question.” A second’s pause to make sure I had their attention. “Why would Keyes put the head in the toilet?”

“Pending’s got a good question. If Keyes wanted a trophy, why keep it there? He wanted to get caught? Why cut it off in the first place? None of the other victim’s heads have been found. It’s the only bathroom in the cabin too. If he needed to go, did he pee on her head?”

“Forensics will confirm or deny that,” Jack said.

“Listen, guys, it doesn’t make sense. If Keyes is the killer, where is Poole and the remains of the other missing women? Dogs have been combing the back lot, and I haven’t heard anything from their handlers. They are down as far as the riverbank. Surely something would have come to light by now.”

“You think the head was planted in Keyes’s toilet?” Paige asked.

“I do. Yeah. I mean it would make sense, really, wouldn’t it?”

“Hmm.”

“What?” I turned to Jack. “Why
hmm
me right now? It makes sense.”

Jack’s intense gaze went through me.

“It does make sense. I agree.”

Paige stood ground beside me. Her agreement caught me off guard.

“All right, then, if that’s the case, where are we with other suspects?” Jack asked with his eyes glued on me. I sensed, due to my brief disrespect, not that I needed to answer.

“We still need the employment records from the gyms in the area,” Zachery offered.

“We also need the financials from Lindsay Parks,” I said.

“Okay, first thing we’re going to do is press Brad Keyes. We need to know what women were in that bed. We need to confirm that the male DNA belongs to Keyes. If our unsub was brash enough to hide a head in the man’s toilet, maybe he’s been coming here to have sex with the women.”

I nodded. “We also need to really dig deep into Keyes’s life. It started with his wife.”

“Agreed.” Zachery smiled at me.

“What are we doing standing around here then? We’ll head back and let Keyes know we found his treasure.”

“Boss—”

The team stopped moving and turned to face me. “We just said we didn’t think that it was Keyes who put the head there.”

The three of them shook their heads and kept walking.

He watched them from a hilltop, about a mile down the road. It had a clear line of sight to the cabin. The crime scene technicians and police cruisers were parked in the driveway and at the road, and there was a black SUV. The FBI had arrived, and they were there because of him.

He watched through the scope of his father’s hunting rifle, having adjusted it until he felt he could reach out and touch them. He had waited patiently for them to arrive. Now the world would take notice of him. He would make sure of it. He would prove he was something. Someone to fear. Someone to respect.