The Haunted Bones Page 8

  Did they identify her?

  Do they know who she is?

  And the question that had haunted her all these years…could they trace her back to me?

  The only scrap of information was the remains were being examined, in the hopes that a positive ID could be made. The photographer's name was being withheld for their protection. She flipped from station to station; when one news team finished talking about the remains and moved on to other news, she flipped to the next.

  Damn McNally! Damn him!

  She threw the remote to her right. It just missed Auggie's head as he stepped out of the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

  "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded "You're screaming at the TV!"

  "Look!"

  He looked at the screen just as the ghostly image showed up. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "Wow. That's not good."

  "It's on TV! What if someone recognizes her? What if they're able to match DNA?"

  Auggie approached her but didn't get too close. "Mary, calm down. First off, you still haven't told me why you're so worried about this. And second, the image is a ghost image. How can anyone recognize who that is? And third, in order to identify her, they have to have a sample to match it to. Look at the bottom runner—see? It says estimates are the body's been there for twenty-five years. Forensics as we know it weren't even around back then. No one's going to be able to identify that woman."

  She listened to him, watched him, then looked back at the screen. "You sure?"

  "Yeah. I am. And if it'll make you feel better, let me get dressed and I'll make a call." He headed back to the bedroom and shut the door.

  Searching for the remote annoyed her. Finding the back missing and the batteries scattered also annoyed her. She was so angry she couldn't get the batteries back in the remote. So she threw them into the sink before she grabbed her purse and pulled her gun out of it. She should have shot McNally that first day. No…she should have taken him to the woods and shot him. In the heart and not the head. Yeah, that's what she should have done. And that's what she was gonna do as punishment for resurrecting her mother!

  The bedroom door opened and Auggie stepped out, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, his phone to his ear. He was nodding. "Uh huh….and it's a positive match? Wow….no, no. I don't need you to do that. I'll just—whoa, put that thing away!" He'd seen the gun in her hand and pointed to her.

  She lowered the gun. "What? What did they just tell you?"

  Auggie put the phone back to his ear. "I'll call you later…and th….yeah, it's all good. Take it easy." He disconnected and continued pointing at her. "First, you put that away."

  "Do. They. Know. Who. She. Is?"

  "Yes…" He took a step back. "They do. And they're going to announce it at eleven. But you need to listen—"

  She held up the gun, aimed, and fired. And then fired again, and again, and again. Auggie's brains and blood spattered the fireplace, the TV screen hanging above it, the floor, everything around him. Some of the blood even hit her hand as she stood there shaking. Adrenaline rushed through her system as the smell of blood filled the air.

  It took a few minutes before she realized she was never going to clean this mess up. She had to act fast. So she put her gun back in her purse and took the gun she'd stolen from the cop's house. The same make and model as her own. She made sure she didn't add any fingerprints, and tossed it on the floor. Then she started wiping down every surface she could have touched…but that would be the entire house. Her house.

  NO!

  So close to the end of the probation and everything would be hers. Maybe if she burned it. Yeah…maybe if she just torched the place and make it look like Auggie did it with his drug buddies. Yes. That would work. Just burn all the evidence.

  But they would find Auggie's bones, too, wouldn't they? Just like they found her mother's bones. The bones…the bones never disappear. She would be haunted by bones all her life. So she needed to chop the bones up…and once she had them chopped up, she would burn them.

  She would burn the whole place down.

  And then she would burn McNally and his little cop girlfriend.

  Then she would find her mother's bones and burn them, too.

  Seventeen

  It wasn't long before the crazies started calling. Julie and I stayed at the precinct and watched as the phones lit up. People were wanting the name of the photographer more than they had any clues to offer as to who the dead woman was. It did cause a stir, but I wondered if it was going to rattle the murderer's cage the way Vale hoped.

  "I think I got her!" Julie came into the break room where Vale, myself, and Meehan were making coffee. I wasn't going to drink any, but I wanted to watch them make faces.

  "Got who?" Meehan said.

  "The woman who approached Devan." She laid a few printed pieces of paper on the table. "Multimillionaire Edward Smith. Made all his money in some gadget I never heard of. Eighty-three. Married Elspeth Charity two years ago. Died in his sleep six months later. The money's been tied up in probate ever since."

  The printout had a photo of the wife. The face was familiar, but her hair was dark, and it was obvious this was a mug shot with no makeup. "Says here she was arrested for soliciting?" I asked.

  "That was five years go." Julie said.

  Meehan laughed. "Yeah, Elspeth Charity sounds like a stripper name."

  "She's been a stripper. And she's been married five times—Charity was the name of the fourth husband. Edward Smith was the last one."

  Vale put his hand on the file. "Is this the same woman who came to you at the Haunt?"

  "I would say I'm ninety-nine percent sure. But…how is she related to the body in the wall?" I looked over at Julie.

  She flipped a page over. "Twenty-five years ago, when those units were brownstones, the corner unit was rented by a teacher named Elizabeth Poulin. She had a daughter, Elspeth Mary Poulin."

  I rubbed at my lower lip. "So you're thinking this Mary Smith is Elspeth Charity, is Elspeth Poulin, the daughter?"

  "Yes. According to the ownership records, the place was sold to Better Management Inc., and leased it to Justin Birch." She looked at the three of us. "The Birch family turned it into a successful bar for five years."

  "That's when Cahan found out his daughter was having an affair with Birch's wife. Cahan killed all of them." I leaned back in the chair. My shoulder throbbed.

  "I'm still not seeing the relation with Patsy Granger." Vale shook his head.

  "When the Poulins lived there, the next-door neighbors were George and Patsy Granger. A husband and wife with no kids. Patsy Granger's husband reported his wife missing a year before they left. The police searched for Patsy's husband but never found him. In fact, there's no registration for a George Granger with his credentials listed in any IRS reports. No birth certificate."

  "Fake name." Meehan rubbed at the back of his head. "This is just weird."

  "You think this Elspeth Poulin, aka Mary Smith, killed the Grangers and put Patsy in the wall?" Vale looked incredulous.

  Julie shrugged. "Why else would she be so curious as to why Devan was taking those pictures?"

  "We need a warrant to search Ms. Smith's home. McNally, is there a way to find out if her IP was the one that hacked your server?"

  I grinned. "I got just the person to call. You get me the IP." Pink was going to love getting hold of that information. "Did you find out if it was Mary Smith that called Cahan?"

  Meehan shook his head. "No. There were several calls back and forth to a burner right before he shot you, but…" he shrugged. "No lead."

  As Vale got on the phone, Julie sat in one of the folding chairs. "I so need to change clothing. Meehan, is my house still roped off?"

  "Yeah. They'll release it in the morning. But you're welcome to stay with me if you want."

  She smiled. "No thanks. Jim used to tell me horror stories about your housekeeping skills. Devan? You okay?"

  "Yeah…" But I
wasn't. Not really. "I'm trying to figure out motive."

  "Motive?" Meehan said. "You mean for this Elspeth to kill and wall up Patsy Granger?"

  "Yeah." I shifted in the chair and winced. Maybe I should have put the sling back on. "Those remains are what—twenty, maybe twenty five years old?"

  Meehan and Julie nodded.

  "And this Mary Smith is how old? Thirty nine? Forty?"

  Julie looked at her print outs. "Forty one."

  "So…that makes her around fourteen when this woman was shoved in the wall." I leaned forward. "Why?"

  They looked at each other. Finally Meehan said, "Uh…I don't know if I really buy the whole trifecta. You know, opportunity, means and motive. I think as long as you have opportunity and means you move on it. But if motive's that important to you, we'll just have to ask her when we find her."

  I snorted and grabbed my jacket before I stood up—slowly. "Come on, Jewels."

  She stood with a hand on my good shoulder. "You okay? You're not looking so good."

  "Shoulder. I'm considering either pain killers or a serious fifth of scotch."

  "Let's just wait for Susan."

  I blinked. "Susan? You mean…my Susan?"

  "Wow, now he really looks pale," Meehan said.

  Julie guided me back to the chair. "Yeah…I talked to her when I looked up Patsy Granger. She called me about the photos on the news broadcasts. Wanted to know if we were serious about using ghost photos. She's offered to put us up for the night."

  "Put us…" My hands grew clammy. "She's…been following this? I mean…she's seen the pictures? Does she know I took them?"

  "I doubt it. I didn't tell her. She's dealing with that Lanier Strangler case."

  "Oh?" My ex never really talked about her cases. We kept our professional life out of our personal. That is…until I was shot. And then it all evaporated. "They catch the guy?"

  "Apparently not. There was another victim two nights ago, so she's been in court getting her client acquitted. I mean…how could he have killed someone else while in jail?"

  True. I stood again and moved toward the door. "You know, your relationship with my ex-wife is damn scary."

  "I'll say," Meehan piped up.

  When I turned to head out the door, someone stood in my way.

  Llse.

  And she looked oddly…irritated. "That was your picture, wasn't it? That's why you're back here again, passing your ghost pictures off on this precinct as legitimate police work."

  "My ghost pictures? Llse…what ever do you mean? I don't take…ghost pictures." I glanced down at Julie. Why was Llse so upset? "Good evening to you, too, Llse. Chief Of Dees send you back down here again?"

  "No. But he did call me all excited about some picture used for a preliminary identification of that body in the wall of some old bar. You know how he likes all that creepy shit."

  Vale came up behind us and put a hand on my shoulder. I stepped out of his way. "Ms. Wallace, so nice to see you. Is there something we can do for you?"

  "That picture was taken by McNally, wasn't it? And all those other pictures? The ones used for the Birch murders?"

  We all glanced at one another. Vale said, "Exactly how do know about those pictures, Ms. Wallace? They haven't been released yet."

  "Mathew told me."

  I raised my eyebrows. The Chief Of Detectives Matthew Wallace? Did Vale show them to him?

  "No I'm afraid that's a lie. I haven't released them to the COD, either. But I am very interested in your sources. Please…step into my office."

  But when he moved through the doorway to guide her away, she moved to the right and then walked swiftly down the hall to the elevator.

  "Shouldn't we go after her?" Julie put her hand on her gun.

  "Oh no." Vale smiled as he looked back at me. "I think your idea to use those photos is shaking a lot more loose than we intended."

  Eighteen

  Llse's performance won her an all-expenses-not-paid surveillance by the city's finest. Vale ordered her every move monitored for twenty-four hours.

  "You think that'll be enough?" I asked him as we headed to the elevator. I was tired and I needed sleep. I didn't care where. Julie was with us, yawning every ten minutes.

  "I want to see what she does,." Vale said. "I might not ever be able to connect her to your shooting, Devan. But there is always the hope I can prove she lied on the stand."

  "Why are you wanting to help me on this?" I paused in the hallway, really curious. "I came out of that coma and everyone was pissed off at me because I allegedly had an affair with the witness and couldn't remember a damn thing. Do you even know how humiliating that was?"

  "Devan, we all know how hard it was," Vale said. "You have to trust me on this. I didn't believe her. Not one word. I know you and Jim. The story she spit out wasn't worth a dog's shit. But the COD got involved and then word came to me we were to give credibility to Llse's statement. Being married to him gave her credibility."

  "And me with a bullet in my head made me less than a trained monkey."

  "Devan, don't." Julie put a hand on my arm. "We didn't think that. But we have to do what we're told. None of us believed her. The evidence never fit her story. And now that you remembered more of what happened…" She glanced at Vale. "We will follow the truth. And right now, I want to know why she's so pissed off about your pictures. What do they have to do with her?"

  I stared at her a second. "Nothing."

  "Exactly," Vale finished. "I don't think the case is Ms. Wallace's problem. I think it's what your pictures revealed, McNally. Whatever's happening with your camera, it's rattling some things loose. I want to see how the pieces fall, either with Mary Smith or with Llse Wallace. You've made them both nervous. What you took in the Haunt might be a one time thing. Or…it might not. But there's only one way to find out, right?"

  Julie nudged me. "You think you can make your pictures do it again?"

  "I don't know why or how they did it the first time."

  "Why not try?" She smiled up at me. "It's time to go back to the warehouse, Devan, and bring your camera."

  It wasn't a new idea. In fact, I'd already thought of it. Having Julie and my old boss suggest it was too good to be true. I made a note to myself that tomorrow I would go to the warehouse and take pictures. If something showed up, that would prove something was weird with me. And if it didn't happen again, then it was just a fluke.

  A fucked-up fluke, but only that.

  "Captain!"

  We all turned to see Meehan jogging toward us. His face was red but I thought now wasn't the time to suggest exercise. "What is it?" Vale said.

  "There's been a fire in Alpharetta. Edward Smith's mansion just burned to the ground."

  Vale's jaw set. I looked at Julie. So much for sleep.

  The elevator doors opened and the woman I'd once been married to for three years stepped through. Susan had been the ultimate woman to me. Strong, beautiful, intelligent, caring, and just…incredible. Now when I saw her, I felt a pang of resentment. She'd promised to be my wife and to stand by me. Yet she was the first to bail the moment the rumors of an affair surfaced.

  And so we stood in the hallway facing each other. She paused and I watched her put on a smile; her court smile. Then she approached with her hands out to Julie. "It's so nice to see you."

  Julie returned the embrace. Vale and I stepped back.

  "Ready to go?" Susan wasn't going to acknowledge Vale and I.

  "Ah, actually," Julie began as she looked over at me, "there's been a new break in the case and so Devan and I are staying here."

  Now Susan looked at me. On the phone we were fine. Jovial. Even friendly. But there was something about that face-to-face that always threw up barriers. She cracked a fake smile for me. "But Devan's not a detective anymore."

  "Oh, I don't know about that." Vale crossed his arms over his chest. "Once you get that gold badge, it's always in your blood. Brenner, why don't you catch a few hours of sleep? There's rea
lly not much you or Devan can do until they put the fire out and start clearing the debris. And with the house gone, that means Ms. Mary Smith is out there. I doubt she'll even try to get to you at Ms. Lowell's home."

  Julie's eyes widened. "But she won't come after me. She'll come after Devan. He can't go to his place."

  "What…what are you talking about? Who's coming after Devan?" Susan looked a little shaken. I was touched. "I've been in court all day. I don't know what's going on."

  "There's a lot to tell you, Ms. Lowell. Perhaps another time. But Detective Brenner's right: I'll need to have protective detail for Devan—"

  "Oh hell you won't." The words raced out of my mouth before I could catch them. Though they were true. "I need to go home, grab some clothes and my camera if I'm going to head back to the warehouse."

  "Protective detail?" Susan looked from me, to Julie, to Meehan who stood behind us staring at her, and to Vale. "Someone's out to hurt Devan?"

  "I'm afraid so," Vale said.

  That's when I caught on to what Vale was doing. And God, he could work it. "Ah…no. Uh uh. I'll be fine at my place. You put police out front and not inside, and I'm sure I'll be good. Just get me the IP and I'll call my server goddess."

  "Oh, fuck, Devan—you got Pink involved in this?" Susan asked.

  I waved at her to shut the hell up. "Susan, just take care of Julie, okay?"

  "No. You're coming with me." She waved at me to follow. "Both of you. My house is big enough and it's gated." When I didn't follow, she turned and glared at me. "Now Devan."

  "I'm not going." I crossed my arms over my chest. "You can't make me."

  Well…that was real mature.

  Nineteen

  Luckily she'd planned ahead and had cash—a little over three million—stashed away in safe-deposit boxes in every bank in the city, all under different aliases. After setting the house on fire, she removed a stash of cash from the nearest bank. She didn't close the account because that would look too suspicious. But now she had her car, purchased under an alias, and she had cash. And no more Auggie to nag at her all the time. Yeah, the sex had been okay, but after a while he was boring.