Текст книги "Quinn"

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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CHAPTER

4

“CASTRO SAID YOU WANTED to see me.” Slindak gazed curiously at the huge pile of reports on the table beside the copy machine. “What are you photocopying? I could have had someone do it for you.”

“I wanted to do it myself.” Joe turned to face him. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah?” Slindak had picked up one of the sheets. “Kenny Lemwick’s missing person’s report.”

Joe nodded. “And I have the other reports on the other children. I’m making copies of all of them.” He paused. “I’m going to give them to Eve Duncan to do a comparison check.”

Slindak stiffened. “What the hell?”

“You heard me. I’m going to have her assist in the investigation.”

“Are you crazy?”

It was no more than Joe expected. “She’s smart, dedicated. I believe she could give valuable input.”

“Her kid could be one of those victims. You’re asking for trouble. I don’t know how your superiors at the FBI feel about family involvement in an investigation, but I could get fired for it if I got caught doing anything that nutty.”

“They wouldn’t like it either. That’s why I’m being up-front with you.” He stared him in the eye. “If you want to report me to protect your ass, do it now.”

“I’d rather talk you out of it.” Slindak scowled. “But I’m not going to be able to do that, am I?”

“No way.”

“Dammit, why?”

“Eve Duncan has the best reason in the world to find the man who caused those kids to disappear. She’ll do a good job.”

“But that’s not the real reason, is it?” Slindak’s eyes were narrowed on Joe’s face. “You’re not the man I knew in the service. You’ve always been a loner. There’s no way you’d have taken on a partner, not even me. And breaking the rules and involving the mother of a victim? Not in a thousand years.”

“People change.”

“I can see how she’d arouse your sympathy, but there’s a reason for those rules against fraternizing with family members. There are not only the legal ramifications, but their emotional state leads them to act irrationally, and the department might—” He stopped and gave a low whistle. “But you’re not just sorry for her, are you? You’ve got a thing for her. You’re doing this to get her into bed.”

Joe wished it was that simple. “No.” He ran another report through the copier. “I’d be very stupid to think that she’d hop into bed with me because I’m letting her help with the investigation. You’ve met her. You know what kind of person she is.”

“I know she’s desperate. I think she’d do anything to find that kid.”

So did Joe. He was trying not to think about it. “I may be a son of a bitch, but I wouldn’t try to make that kind of deal with her.”

“But she’d be grateful,” Slindak said softly. “One thing could lead to another. You like women too much to go the platonic route. Are you fooling yourself, Joe?”

Maybe. He didn’t know where this path was taking him. He just knew that he had to follow it. “I’m going to work Eve Duncan and myself to the bone to solve those disappearances. I promise I’ll find who is responsible and hand him over to you.” He added curtly, “Now are you going to file a report on my making these copies? I’d like to know so that I can be prepared.”

Slindak hesitated. Then he slowly shook his head. “I may be sorry, but I’ll trust you not to make an ass of yourself and me. Keep her under control.” He turned on his heel. “Hell, keep yourself under control.”

Joe watched him walk out of the copy room.

Keep yourself under control.

He was trying. It was getting harder by the hour.

*   *   *

EVE THREW OPEN THE DOOR to his ring. “You didn’t return my call. Why—”

“I was busy.” He pushed past her and strode into the kitchen. He opened his briefcase and pulled out the pile of files and loose papers and dumped them on the table. “The missing children. You wanted them. They’re yours.” He met her gaze. “And mine. We work on them together.”

She stood looking at him, then slowly moved across the room. “I wasn’t sure you’d do it.” She touched one of the files with a tentative finger. “You didn’t want to let me help. Why did you decide to do it?”

“Impulse?” He smiled recklessly. “How the hell do I know? Neither would anyone else at the precinct. My old buddy, Ralph Slindak, had an interesting thought. He said that he believed you were desperate enough to go to bed with anyone who’d give you a chance to find your daughter.”

She looked up at him. “He’s right,” she said quietly. “I wouldn’t think twice. Not with Bonnie in the balance. It wouldn’t matter at all.” She met his eyes. “Is that what you want? I wouldn’t think that I’d be your type, but all you have to do is ask.”

Oh, shit.

Not his type? If he was going to feel this overwhelming emotional response for her, why couldn’t it have been confined to compassion? But even while he felt that pity, he wanted to touch her, put his hands on her, take her to bed, and make her forget everything but him. He couldn’t separate the mental from the physical. And the physical was burning hot and trying to submerge everything else.

It didn’t help that now when he looked at her that he’d remember what she’d said, that he could have her if that was the price he demanded to help her. Another thought to block, another image to try to forget.

Look away from her. Don’t let her see what you’re thinking.

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but I’m afraid you’re right. You’re not my type. You look so fragile that I’d be afraid I’d break you.” He snapped his briefcase shut. “Besides, I can get a lay anytime.” He smiled at her. “I have a lot more trouble keeping friends.” He could see relief lessen the tension in her face. “So, if you don’t mind, we’ll skip the roll in the hay.”

“I just wanted to make my position clear. I know I’m asking you to do things that are a little outside the boundaries.”

“You’re being very clear.” Too damn clear.

“I just want you to know that I value you. I felt very much alone before you came. It’s better now.”

“Then suppose you give me a cup of coffee. Then we’ll get down to going over those reports.”

“I’ll give you the coffee.” She went to the cabinet and got down a tin of coffee. “But I’m going to ask another favor. Would you leave me and let me look through these reports by myself tonight?”

“Why?”

“Because I can concentrate better if—” She shook her head as she put on the coffee. “No, I won’t lie and protect myself. You were right when you said that I’d be upset when I read about these kids. I can be tough about some things, but not about children. After I get through the reports once, I think that I’ll be okay.” She smiled with an effort. “I guess I don’t want you to see how weak I can be.”

“Then by all means read them by yourself. I’m just a guy, and I have trouble coping with tears. I’ll come back in the morning, and we’ll talk.”

“That would be good.” She glanced at the files. “There seem to be quite a few. I didn’t realize that there were that many cases.” She frowned. “I thought I read … six? And that included the little boy they found in the grave by the freeway.”

“That was all the ATLPD and the media had on their list. But they were all local and within the last five years. They checked nearby cities and came up with nothing. But I found cases in more distant cities in Georgia and Tennessee that I thought were worth looking at. And I dug down another ten years. I ran across a story about the body of a child found in a swamp near the Florida border twelve years ago.”

“Fifteen years. You think he’s been killing that long?”

“Or longer. It might not be the same man, but it could be. Serial killers like what they do. They tend to make it a life’s vocation.” He took the coffee she handed him. “You’ll find enough there to keep you busy tonight. There are eight or nine that I thought close enough to run a comparison.”

“And only two bodies found?” She shivered. “Those poor parents. In agony all these years, not knowing…”

“After a certain amount of time passes, just the lack of knowledge is a sort of proof that the child is never coming home. That must be a kind of comfort.”

“The hell it is. There’s nothing worse than a child who’s lost or thrown away like some piece of garbage. A child has value, she should be cared for and brought in from every storm.” Her voice shook with passion. “Dead or alive, I’d have to bring my child home.”

“Then maybe we can help some of those parents in the reports.” He poured her a cup of coffee. “But you need to calm down and get a breath of air before you start. Walk me to the porch.”

She took the cup and followed him out onto the porch. “I get too … upset. I didn’t used to be like this. You’re being very patient with me.” She leaned against the porch rail and lifted her gaze to the night sky. “Everything reminds me of her. We’d sit here on the steps and look up at the stars and I’d tell her stories about all the constellations and we’d try to identify the Big Dipper and Orion and…” She took a sip of coffee. “Sorry. I’ll shut up.”

“Not for me. She’s part of you. And memories can save, not destroy, if you accept them.”

“Can they? I only know I wouldn’t give up a single memory of her no matter how much it hurt.” She added, “My mother doesn’t feel that way. She loves Bonnie, but she’s trying to block the thought of her. I guess everyone handles grief differently.”

“I haven’t seen your mother the last two times I’ve been here. Is she still staying in her room?”

Eve shook her head. “She’s been going to church. She was never religious, but a local pastor came to visit and invited her to come to services. I think the congregation has taken her on as a project. They keep her busy. That’s fine, Sandra needs people. It may keep her off the drugs. She quit when Bonnie was born, but this is a dangerous time for her.”

“What about you? She’s the only family you have. She should stay with you and give—”

“Stop being so protective.” She smiled and finished her coffee. “The last thing I need is Sandra hovering over me. We’re both surviving in the best way we can. She has her congregation, and I have Joe Quinn.” She took Joe’s empty cup and turned toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Joe. It’s time I got to work.”

“Good night. Lock your door.”

“Why? I’m not worried about being in any kind of danger.”

“I know. But I’m worried for you. It’s a violent world. Lock your door.”

“Whatever.”

He watched her as she entered the house and waited until he heard the click of the lock.

No, she wasn’t worried. She couldn’t care less about her own physical safety. It had no meaning for her in comparison to her loss of her child. He realized that he was the one who was going to have to care for her.

Another duty for him to assume in the emotional storm that had come to him.

Protecting Eve.

Watching over Eve.

Loving Eve.

That word was coming easier to him now. He was beginning to understand the elements that comprised it. Perhaps the fact that he had to block sexual desire made him more aware of what else he was feeling.

But it also made him aware that the storm of feeling was growing stronger. He was no longer rejecting it. He wanted to go back inside the house and stay with her, be with her …

Tomorrow.

He turned and went down the porch steps and strode toward his car.

*   *   *

“COME IN,” EVE CALLED, when Joe rang the bell the next afternoon. She looked up impatiently from the papers she was working on as he opened the door. “For heaven’s sake, why are you still acting like a visitor? Just walk in.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Have you gone to bed yet?”

“For a couple hours. I had to get away from them.” She grimaced. “But they followed me. I decided I’d rather deal with them than dream about them. There’s coffee on the stove.”

“Have you had any?”

“Too much.” She nodded at the two piles of files that were in front of her. “I’ve divided the children into two categories. Male and female. Whoever took these children obviously preferred girls. There are nine cases here, and six of them were girls. But evidently he doesn’t entirely rule out little boys.” She leaned back in the straight chair. “I had questions. I wanted you here.”

“I wanted to be here.” He poured a glass of orange juice and brought it to her. “What questions?”

“You know about profiling and all that stuff. You were studying records of sexual molesters.” She moistened her lips. “Are these killings all about sex? Is that why he likes little girls? Does he rape them?”

“Probably.” He looked away as she flinched. “But it’s not about the sexual act as much as it is about power. Most serial killers are addicted to power. Sexual domination is a form of power. Perhaps little boys don’t give him the same rush as little girls.” He sat down across from her. Look at her. Ignore the fact that every word was hurting her. “Perhaps that’s why he butchered that little boy so terribly. He was angry with him for not being what he wanted him to be. But we can’t be sure because we’ve never found any of the little girls’ bodies.” He stared her in the eyes. “Any more questions?”

“Not for the moment.” She swallowed hard. “But thank you for not trying to sugarcoat your answer. I had to know. Then it’s all about power?”

“And ego. If a killer has murdered successfully for a long time, then he begins to think he’s impervious to capture. He usually develops a pattern according to how often he needs his fix.”

“Fix,” she repeated. “It’s truly an addiction?”

He nodded. “And he’ll be as reckless as a heroin addict to get what he needs. More, because he believes no one can touch him.”

“A pattern.” She looked down at the sheet of paper in front of her. “The dates of the disappearances of the first three girls are approximately five months apart. Janey Bristol, six years, disappeared from Dunwoody three years ago on August 10. Linda Cantrell, eight years, was reported missing on January 30 from her home in Marietta. Natalie Kirk got off the bus but never made it home on June 5.” She glanced up. “But the other disappearances were less predictable. The next disappearance didn’t happen for another eighteen months. And the next two followed almost immediately. Within a few weeks of each other.” She tapped the third pile of files. “And none of these out-of-town disappearances took place during those eighteen months. They were all before the local Atlanta killings started. And there was over a year between those kidnappings. If he’s what you say he is, I don’t think he was taking a vacation. Where was he? What was he doing?” She added unsteadily, “Who was he killing?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out. He could have been away from the area. Or he might have been in jail.” His gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “First a year, then five months. He’s getting hungrier.”

“Bonnie would have been three months. So maybe she wasn’t one of– I’m trying not to think of Bonnie.” She took another sip of orange juice. “That was one of the nightmares I was having last night.”

“And my nightmare is your having a nervous breakdown and leaving me without someone to help me find this bastard.” He took a pile of files from her. “So we’ll both go over these files and make notes and talk about them for another two hours. Then I’ll keep on, and you’ll take a nap on the couch.”

“I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Then I’ll call a doctor and get him to give you a shot. Take your choice.”

“We’ll talk about it later.” She went back to the file in front of her. “What are we looking for?”

“Circumstances surrounding the disappearance. Similarities, indications of any common traits in the victims or family members.”

“Family members?”

“It’s possible revenge was taken against the child for a perceived slight by the parents.”

“Why wouldn’t he just kill the parents?”

“It could still be on his agenda. He might want them to suffer first.”

“Yes, that would do it.” She opened the first file. “That’s a lot of things to look for, Joe.”

“And better done with a clear head.”

She ignored the jab. “How can you continue to work on cases like this? Doesn’t it make you sick?”

“Sometimes. But it makes me sicker to know that some arrogant son of a bitch is out there killing whoever he pleases and thinking no one is going to catch him.” He was scanning the files in front of him. “Seasons don’t seem to make any difference to him. In some instances, killers only murder in certain seasons or time of the month. Here we have victims in summer, fall, winter…”

“Maybe they’re not all dead,” Eve said. “We keep talking about killings. Maybe some of them were runaways or taken by relatives. Maybe they’re not– But I have to think of them as victims, don’t I? I have to look at these damn reports and think that a monster grabbed them and how and why he did it.”

“You don’t have to do it. Let me bundle up all these reports and take them away. No one is forcing you but yourself.”

“I know that.” She focused her gaze on the report in front of her. “Linda Cantrell.” The picture of the girl showed a child with dark hair and eyes and a wide white smile. “She was Hispanic, but that didn’t seem to have anything to do with her being chosen. The other children were black, white … no Asian…”

*   *   *

“I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS.” Eve glared up at him even as she lay down on the couch three hours later. “I can keep on going. I don’t want to sleep. You have no right to threaten me with your damn doctor.”

“No, I don’t. But might is always right, and I have the advantage.” The sun had gone down an hour ago, and he turned off the lights in the living room. “So go to sleep.” He sat down in a chair across the room. “Four hours at least. Then I’ll let you work a little longer before I leave and go back to my place.”

“Go now. I don’t want you sitting there in the dark like a guard at an asylum.”

“Asylum. Strange choice of words. Why not a guard at a jail?”

She didn’t answer.

“Unless you’re worried because you might have a nervous breakdown. Do you think about it?”

“No, I don’t think about myself at all. I don’t matter. That just came out. Now stop trying to dig into my psyche.”

“Naturally, you’re distraught, and all kinds of crazy ideas are going through your mind. You’re walking a fine line, but we’ll get through it.”

“We? I’m the one who is walking that line. You’re strong and sane, and everything is in control in your world.”

“I’ll walk the line with you. If you think you’re going to fall, reach out, and I’ll be there.”

She was silent. “Why are you being so kind to me? You’re tough and cynical and … I don’t think that you’re one of those do-gooders who want to save the world.”

“The world is too big a project. You’re damn right I’m not a do-gooder. I usually run the other way. But every now and then, I run across someone who it bothers me to see struggling. I want to see you come out on top of this. It will make me feel good. It’s purely selfish.”

“Well, that relieves me,” she said dryly. “I’d hate being someone’s project.”

He chuckled. “No chance. You’d toss me out on my ear.”

“Maybe not,” she said. “I told you that I didn’t feel as alone when I was with you.”

“Then I may be safe for a while. Until the situation turns around, and you don’t need me any longer. Now why don’t you stop talking and try to nap.”

“I don’t want to sleep. You can force me to lie here, but you can’t make me sleep.”

“Are you paraphrasing that proverb about leading a horse to water?”

“I guess so.” She was silent again, and the next words came haltingly in the darkness. “Three months. The pattern is wrong for Bonnie. She has a chance that it wasn’t that monster, doesn’t she?”

“She has a chance.”

“You’re so damn encouraging. Give me a break.”

“I’d like to give you anything that you want from me. But I won’t give you lies … or false hope.”

“Damn you.” She said a moment later, “No, bless you.”

“Go to sleep, Eve.”

“If I do, the nightmares will come.”

“No, they won’t. I’m here for you. After you go to sleep, I’ll turn on that little stained-glass lamp by the door. If you show any signs of distress, I’ll wake you.”

“You’ll keep them away?”

“I’ll guard you through the night.”

“I shouldn’t be this weak. I hate it. I should be able to handle … I hate it.”

“I know you do. But it’s my turn now. When I’m walking my fine line someday, I’ll expect you to guard me from the night monsters.”

“I’ll do it. I promise…”

She was still, but Joe didn’t hear her breathing even and steady for another five minutes. Then he got to his feet and turned on the stained-glass lamp. He tucked a worn red cotton throw over Eve before he went back to his chair across the room.

He leaned back and watched the play of the soft, colored light on her face. Her cheekbones were more prominent than he had noticed before. She had lost weight in the short time since he had first met her. She couldn’t afford to lose it. He had to get her to eat more, dammit.

Eat and sleep so that she could survive.

So that he could survive.

*   *   *

HE DIDN’T HAVE TO WAKE Eve until almost three hours later.

She jerked upright when he put his hand on her shoulder. “No!”

“It’s okay,” Joe said. “You were starting to breathe hard. I figured that you were being ambushed.”

“I was.” She pushed the hair back from her forehead. “But you showed up with the cavalry just in time.” She swung her feet to the floor. “I need to get a glass of water and wash my face.” She glanced at the clock. “I assume I’m being permitted to get back to work?”

“For a little while.” He headed for the kitchen. “I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee while you—”

Eve’s phone rang, and she picked up the receiver on the chest by the door and answered it. “Just a minute.” She frowned as she handed the receiver to Joe. “Detective Slindak. He said you told him you’d be here.”

He nodded. “I had to give him a contact number. I was planning on calling him anyway.” He spoke into the phone, “Quinn.”

“I tried to get you at your hotel first,” Slindak said sourly. “You must be burning the midnight oil.”

“You might say that. Problems, Slindak?”

“Big-time. Some hunters found a child’s remains in a cave in Gwinnett County.”

“Girl or boy?”

He could see Eve tense.

“Girl. There wasn’t much left of the kid, but the scraps of clothing that remained coincided with the description of what Janey Bristol was wearing when she disappeared. I’m heading out to the crime scene. I thought you’d want to go, too.”

“I’ll meet you there.” He pulled out his notebook and pen. “Give me the directions.” He scrawled rapidly. “Is forensics already there?”

“Yes. And the officers who were called secured the area as best they could. There were three hunters who made the discovery, and they ducked into the cave to shelter from the rain. It’s still raining cats and dogs up there. They pretty well messed up the crime scene.”

“Great,” Joe said sarcastically. “Not that it would probably have done much good anyway. The kid has to have been subjected to animal and environmental exposure for all these months. But there might have been something. I’m on my way.” He hung up.

“Who?” Eve asked.

“Not Bonnie. We can’t be sure. The body is in poor condition, but the clothing would point toward Janey Bristol.”

Eve crossed her arms across her chest as if to keep them from shaking. “Six years old…”

He turned toward the door. “I’ll call you when I know more.”

“I’m going with you.”

He had been half-expecting it. “This is going way beyond just looking at records, Eve.”

“Yes, it’s looking at the remains of that poor kid. It makes me sick to think of it. But I have to be there.” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “I know nonprofessionals aren’t welcome at crime scenes. But you’ve stuck your neck out for me before. Do it now. I won’t get in your way. Look, I won’t even go to the crime scene itself. I’ll stay in the car.”

“And you’ll still see things you don’t want to see.”

“So I’m supposed to bury my head in the sand? No, I don’t want to see it. But that little girl didn’t want to be killed, either. It could have been Bonnie.” Her lips tightened in a mirthless smile. “Why not let me go? Slindak should be expecting it. You said he thought we might be sleeping together. He’ll just think that I’m getting what I paid for.”

“And what if I don’t want him to think that?” Joe asked grimly.

She ignored the question. “Take me, Joe,” she said urgently. “You knew I wouldn’t be satisfied with studying those reports. You knew where this would lead.”

Yes, he had known. Why was he even arguing? When he had copied the reports, he had made the ultimate commitment.

One more attempt.

“What would you do if I said no?”

“Follow you.”

He turned back toward the door. “Grab a raincoat. It’s raining up in Gwinnett County.”

*   *   *

THE MEDICAL EXAMINER’S VAN was parked on the side of the road, and Joe drew in several yards behind it. “Stay here.”

Eve nodded. “You don’t have to remind me. I promised I wouldn’t get in your way. I just want to be here in case you find out anything.”

“Which will probably be nothing until we get the forensic reports.” He jumped out of the car and was immediately soaked by the pouring rain. He followed the glow of lanterns carried by shadowy figures that turned out to be officers moving behind the yellow tape several yards from the road.

“Quinn.”

He turned to see Slindak coming toward him. He was wearing a yellow slicker, but his head was bare, and his hair was as wet as Joe’s. “Where’s the cave, Slindak?”

Slindak nodded to the left. “Around that bend. It’s only a football field’s distance from the road. And it’s only two miles from a ritzy subdivision. The son of a bitch who killed her has balls of steel.”

“He thinks that he’s too smart to be caught. Not unusual.” But the degree of boldness was not common, Joe thought. “And he buried that other kid beside the freeway. How the hell could he be sure not to be seen by a driver while he was disposing of the body?”

Slindak shrugged. “Nuts.” He was sloshing through the mud toward the cave. “But he’d have to be crazy to do what he did to that little girl. She doesn’t have a head. At first, we thought an animal had taken it, but we found it on a shelf of the cave. He cut it off and put it on display.”

Joe felt the anger tear through him. “Bastard.”

“Did you and your lady find anything in those reports?”

Joe gave him an icy glance. “Ms. Duncan worked very hard, but didn’t come up with anything yet. And you will speak of her with respect, or you’ll find yourself facedown in this mud while I wash out your mouth.”

“Hold it,” Slindak said quickly. “No offense. I do respect her. I just called it the way I saw it.”

And Slindak hadn’t been really insulting. It had been Joe’s anger at the killing that had become mixed with his annoyance with Slindak. Joe couldn’t blame him for reading sexual overtones into his connection with Eve. On Joe’s part, those overtones were definitely there, and it wouldn’t take a psychic to see them. He just hoped they weren’t as clear to Eve. “You saw wrong,” he said curtly. “There’s no payoff. No matter what I’m feeling, I’m not that much of an asshole.”

Slindak shook his head. “You poor bastard,” he murmured. “I’ll be damned. I never thought I’d live to see it.”

“You may not if you keep on talking,” Joe said grimly.

“My lips are sealed.” They had come close to the cave, and Slindak gestured to the opening. “I think they’re ready to bring out the body. Do you want to go inside?”

Joe nodded and moved carefully to enter the cave. Two techs were carefully transferring the body parts to the tarp on the stretcher. The parts were mostly skeleton. The little girl was hardly recognizable as a human being. The anger was searing again, and he took a moment to overcome it before he glanced around the cave. It was a small area, and evidently the child hadn’t been buried or hidden in any way. It was a wonder that the body hadn’t been discovered sooner.

Again, the killer’s boundless arrogance was staring Joe in the face.

“We’re ready to go.” A young forensic tech kneeling beside the body was looking up at Joe. “Do you need anything else, sir?”

“The skull was on that ledge?” he asked.

“Yep, it nearly scared those hunters shitless,” Slindak said. “The field rats had gotten to it.”

“Can we zip her up?” the tech asked again.

“Yeah, go ahead.” Joe turned away as they zipped up the body bag. “Did we get any footprints besides those of the hunters?”

“A possible near the ledge, but it’s badly eroded,” Slindak said. “He didn’t even try to erase his footprint. It’s like the other case. If we could catch the bastard, we could nail him in court.”

“He doesn’t think we’re going to catch him. That couldn’t be more obvious.” Joe watched the techs pick up the stretcher and carry it out into the rain. They were going to take it to the M.E. van.

And Eve was going to see them put that pitiful sack of bones into the van.

“Is there anything else I should see?” he asked Slindak.

Slindak shook his head. “I just thought you’d want to be here.”

“You were right.” He turned toward the cave entrance. “Let me know when we get a definite ID.”

“That may not be easy. I can’t bring in the parents to ID that skeleton. No prints. I can only try to get dental records.”

“Damn,” Joe said in frustration. “We just had a lecture at the Bureau about the potential for using DNA in identifying victims. But that’s still down the road a bit. I want it now.”

“I’m satisfied with the old tried-and-true methods,” Slindak said. “We get along just fine without your fancy scientific bullshit.”

“Except when all you have to work with is a skeleton.” Joe walked out of the cave. The rain felt good on his face after the stench and closeness of death inside the cave. He moved quickly through the stand of trees toward the road.

The techs were closing the back doors of the M.E. van as he came out of the woods.

And Eve was standing beside the car, watching them.

“Shit.” His pace quickened. He reached her in seconds. “Dammit, why did you get out of the car?” He opened the passenger door and gently pushed her onto the seat. “You’re wet as a drowned rat.”

“I had to see her,” she whispered. “But there was nothing to see, was there? It looked like a bag full of … nothing.”

Joe ran around the car and got into the driver’s seat. “It wasn’t nothing. It was a skeleton, but the bones were … not together.” He started the car and drove past the M.E. van as quickly as he could.