Silent Graves (30 page)

Chapter 57

Jack confirmed over the radio that Holmes’s car was in the driveway along with a BMW registered to Poole. We listened as he verbalized their approach to the house.

“It’s closed up, but we’re headed in.” A few seconds passed and he continued. “We’ve got blood and what looks like a last meal. Good news is it looks like the two women are still alive.”

“What about the blood?” Paige asked.

 “My guess is it belongs to Holmes. He was the only one with a fork, and I’d assume a knife which I don’t see.”

There was a pause.

I spoke into the earpiece. “Jack?”

“They’re in the shed.”

Jack’s observations caused my heart to speed up, along with my team’s pace.

“We’re closing to within fifty yards of the shed,” Paige said over the radio. She turned around and started to lay out how we were going to approach. It mimicked Jack’s advance to the property—cover all corners.

Chad could barely stand. The blood loss was making him dizzy. After taking the shovel out to the burial site, he wasn’t sure if he had it in him to dig a hole. He might just throw them into the river, but now he had a bigger obstacle to attend to—a man.

“Are you FBI?”

“I’m an officer with Dumfries PD.”

You’re not even worthy of the FBI!

Loser!

The voice taunted him, mocking him with laughter. He tapped a hand against his thigh.

Tappity, tap. Tappity, tap.

Chad caught the reflection in the man’s eyes. He was scheming. He thought he had a way out of here with the women. He lifted the revolver and pointed its barrel at the officer.

Another wave of nausea passed over him. His legs buckled, and his eyes went to the knife in his chest. He’d die if he pulled it out.

Before he could steady his balance, the man lunged toward him, a flash of metal flailing in the air as if he were a madman.

Chad pulled the trigger.

“A shot was just fired. It came from the shed!” I gave the update and the other two teams echoed back—they had heard it as well. In seconds, we would all reach the shed.

“The report was subdued. They must be deep inside, an underground room maybe.”

Paige and I entered the front of the shed, guns drawn. Inside, relics of another era were mounted on the walls. My eyes followed it through to the back side where a door was open. A couple officers came through, and we stood there for a few seconds before we spread out.

“Over here.” One of the officers called out the find. Off to our left was a door in the flooring. It was open.

I pointed to the floor. “Blood. We have him.”

Stenson barely dodged the bullet. Sydney dropped to the floor, as far as the chains would allow. Monica dropped too. The fact she was no longer restrained was now obvious. She crouched and made her way around the exterior of the table.

Holmes fired another round. This time the bullet chewed into the flesh of Stenson’s shoulder.

“You are all going to die!” Holmes wobbled on his feet as a drunken man.

“Not if you die first!” Stenson’s move would blend bravery with stupidity, but he didn’t know how much time he had before the others would reach the shed. They must have heard the gunfire, but he couldn’t be sure. He had to go at it as if he were the women’s only savior.

He roared as he launched at Holmes intent on only one thing—killing the man.

Another round fired.

Blood burst from Stenson’s chest and bloomed red around the wound. It was surreal, as if he were in a first-person-shooter video game. It hurt like hell, but he couldn’t fail these women. He charged at Holmes again, staggering, each breath a challenge as pain cinched his chest, and each heartbeat reverberated in his skull. He needed to reach Holmes before he lost all strength.

He heard the click of the revolver and prepared for impact, but no bullet came. The chamber must be empty. Now was the time.

Stenson pulled the knife from Holmes’s chest before his vision darkened, and he hit the floor, a burning in his chest. He closed his eyes and wondered how long it would take for death to claim him.

“That’s two more. Move. Move.” Paige hurried down the stairs. “FBI!”

Holmes sat hunched forward on the floor, blood draining from his chest. Staring into space, his breathing was erratic, and his words came out in a low tone. “The graves lay silent. The graves lay untouched.”

I picked up the revolver at his side, clearing it from his reach.

Only a few feet away, Officer Stenson lay on the floor, a gunshot to the chest and a bloody knife in his hand.

Paige hurried over to him and called in for medical assistance. “Officer down.”

Monica rose from behind the table, her arms in the air.

“We’re FBI. We’re here to save you.” I extended a hand to her and helped her come out from around the table.

I then noticed an awl on the floor, and the chain wrapped around Sydney’s wrists. It must have been how Stenson freed Monica. He was a hero. Time would tell whether he was a fallen one.

Chapter 58

We found the graves on the slant of a hill, in a wooded area near the river. An FBI helicopter hovered above, while on the ground investigators worked to uncover the remains of fifty women. This had been a killing ground long before Holmes. There was speculation that it dated back to Steve Manning, Campbell’s stepfather, since he had inherited the property from him.

Nadia’s digging had uncovered that Barbara Wilson was the sister of Holmes’s mother and the one granted legal guardian status. With her husband working with Ken Campbell, it would have kept Holmes within easy reach. If that weren’t enough, up until now, Barbara had been the one paying for Campbell’s healthcare.

She had been brought in for questioning, and, of course, she swore she had no idea that Campbell was even capable of such acts. Without evidence to hold her, she was released. She s
wore that he wouldn’t see another red cent from her.

The accessibility to Melanie Chase was also there. We were still working on the connection to the other two victims, the one from nineteen seventy-three and two thousand. It was possible that they were random targets.

Inside the house were a bunch of books—it must have been the literary collection Holmes had alluded to. Campbell was more likely than Holmes to be the reader, accounting for a fictitious quote he tried to pass off on Jack and me. Paige saw the books and said Campbell had been reading when they showed up to visit him at the home.

Holmes had been taken off in an ambulance with a couple FBI agents who were entrusted with making sure he remained in custody and didn’t take action to terminate his life. He would pay for his crimes against these women.

It was stated that before they put the oxygen on him, he had repeatedly chanted what he had said when we found him.

“The graves lay silent. The graves lay untouched.”

Campbell would face multiple charges, but it was unlikely we would get a sentence passed against a seventy-one-year-old Alzheimer’s patient. When questioned about the remains on his property, a sinister smile had lit his face. Those who witnessed it wondered if it were the Devil himself.

I had no doubt the revolver we collected would tie back to the bullets pulled from Andy Gray. I also believed the DNA left behind in two thousand would be a match to Holmes. We also needed to know who belonged to the epithelial Chase took from her attacker.

Stenson was rushed to the hospital. Sydney and Monica were tended to by paramedics—Monica with a broken wrist—and both followed behind him.

The women would either be inseparable, bonded by their experience, or repelled because it would remind them of what they had lived through together. I sensed it would be the former.

Sydney had confessed to an affair with Chad Holmes but said she knew him as Brad. Holmes had wanted to assume the life with Leslie so badly he had adopted her husband’s name. He had dyed Monica’s hair brown, like I had suspected he would.

It was hard when Monica peered into my eyes and asked about Andy. I had to let her know he had been shot and killed. But the hardest part was when Ian Poole came running toward his wife and held her tightly.

My heart ached from the reunion. I missed Deb, but I had to learn to let her go.

Paige had noticed the expression on Brandon’s face when Ian Poole hugged his wife. There was definite heartache there. She’d had the urge to hold and comfort him, but he would be all right. He was a strong man. She also knew, in that moment, she had to let him go. He needed time to heal.

She had stepped back from the group and headed to the burial sites where she’d watched the remains being recovered. She’d stood there for hours until Jack came and got her.

Despite the early hour, it was now technically Monday, Becky Tulson was at the front door of PWPD to greet them. She hurried toward them but slowed her pace when she got near.

She extended her hand to Paige. “Great job.” She smiled at her and Paige returned it, along with a nod as she kept walking.

Paige turned to see the female officer stop in front of Brandon, but, instead of a handshake, she hugged him and kissed his cheek. Paige saw happiness wash over Brandon’s expression.