Exposure (32 page)

“You can’t mine pure phosphorus,” Marzec simplified. “It doesn’t exist anywhere. Instead, you have to look for phosphate rocks—like this one—dig them up, then break the stones down.”

“Okay.” I shifted, not totally sure I understood. “Phosphate rocks contain phosphorus, which is essential for making good fertilizer. So people dig them up for sale.”

“Perfectly stated.” Marzec spread his hands. “This was a
major
industry in the late 1800s. The amount of available farmland was limited, which meant the same tired plots had to be replanted over and over. Overuse was leaching essential nutrients from the soil. Farmers were desperate for a way to get those minerals back. Enter phosphate mining.”

“They needed prehistoric rocks to make fertilizer?” Hi asked. “Nothing else worked?”

“Before the mining boom, farmers were dependent on guano for fertilizer. But that had to be imported, and was very pricey. Finding high-quality fertilizer buried right beneath their feet was a godsend for local sharecroppers.”

“Wait. Guano?” Hiram’s eyes narrowed. “You’re saying—”

“Yes.” Marzec grinned. “Farmers were buying the droppings of seabirds and bats, which are high in both phosphorus and nitrogen.”

Shelton crinkled his nose. “Man, farming is just nasty. For
real.
”

“Are phosphate rocks widespread?” I asked.

“Actually, no.” Marzec jabbed a thumb at a multicolored map behind his desk. “There are large deposits in central Florida, certain regions of Idaho, and along the North Carolina coast. Smaller ones in Montana, Tennessee, and, of course, here in the Lowcountry. Phosphate rock was so prevalent along the Ashley River that many landmarks in that area still bear its name.”

“Ashley Phosphate Road,” Ben said. “I’ve driven there.”

“Correct.” Marzec stroked his chin. “The banks of the Ashley River were
riddled
with phosphates. Once their utility was discovered, mining companies sprang up along the waterfront. For the next fifty years, strip mining for phosphate rock was
the
major industry in that area. By 1885, South Carolina was producing
half
the world’s supply. Some folks got rich, although Mother Nature won’t be sending them any thank-you cards. Entire sedimentary layers were dug up, ripped out, and then barged downstream.”

There was a pause as Marzec seemed to run out of steam.

“Is phosphate mining still a big business today?” I prompted.

“Oh no.” Marzec took a long pull on a Diet Coke. “Most of the local deposits quickly tapped out. By the 1900s, the vast majority of operations had shuttered. Fertilizer production had all but ceased in these parts by the 1930s.”

I shifted again, thinking hard. “So are these phosphate sediments still prevalent near the riverbanks?”

“I wouldn’t say prevalent.” He tapped the bag once more. “Honestly, I’m surprised you found a pure nodule of this size just lying around.” Marzec eyed me curiously. “Where
did
you pick this up?”

“Wake-boarding off Folly Beach,” Hi inserted. “I was attempting a heel-side five-forty when I wiped out. Found this little guy bouncing in the surf.”

“I see.” I could tell Marzec was skeptical, but he let it pass. “Well, any other questions?”

“No, Dr. Marzec.” I flashed my very-grateful smile. “Thanks so much for your time.”

“Delighted.” Marzec scratched behind his ear with a snort. “I’ve been working here five years, and you’re the first non-students to ever ask me a thing. Come back anytime.”

We gathered our things, Hi gently scooping the rock from Marzec’s desk, then exited with another round of thanks. I waited until we were safely inside Ben’s SUV before speaking.

“What do you guys think? Marzec kept mentioning the Ashley River.”

“But these rocks were everywhere,” Hi said. “He listed every other river in the area, too.”

Shelton shook his head. “We could maybe narrow our search to locations near a riverbank. But that’s still miles and miles. And for all we know, the kidnapper just picked up the stupid rock while out driving around. It might not lead to anything.”

I looked at Ben. He glanced away.

No one wanted to say it straight out.

“So we’re still nowhere.” My voice trembled slightly.

Silence filled the car.

I could sense the boys wanted to comfort me. Had no idea how to.

“Let’s go home,” I said softly.

• • •

“Tory, where have you been?”

There was real concern in Kit’s voice as he sprang up from the couch.

I elected for half truth. “The boys and I went to where Ella worked. I thought maybe we could spot something.”

“Oh, honey.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

I felt tears welling behind my eyes. Forced them back.

Kit released me. Held me at arm’s length so he could look into my eyes.

“If you want to cancel this barbeque, just say the word. Whitney will be fine.”

The block party. I’d completely forgotten.

Of course we can’t have a stupid cookout today. My friend was abducted!

“It’s fine.” A glance at the clock. “Tell Whitney I’ll be ready to help in an hour. Where’s Coop?”

“He’s asleep on your bed.” Kit ran nervous fingers through his curly brown hair. “Are you sure, kiddo? I don’t know if this party is a good idea.”

“It’s okay. Better a dumb cookout than nothing. Maybe it’ll keep my mind off . . . things.”

Kit nodded slowly. “Only if you’re certain. And we leave the minute you want to.”

I forced a smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

He tried to hide his surprise. I never called him that.

Then I saw today’s
Post and Courier
sitting on our dining room table.

I started. “What is that!?”

Kit tracked my eyes, then winced. “There’s a story. Maybe now’s not the best—”

Ignoring him, I grabbed the newspaper. A giant picture dominated above the fold.

Two playing cards, side by side. Ophiuchus. Cetus.

A banner headline screamed: “Zodiac Kidnapper Baffles Police.”

Eyes wide, I read the full-page story. Then I slammed the paper on the table.

“The police don’t know
anything
!” Sides heaving. “But the press has it all the next day!”

Kit grabbed the newsprint and dumped it in the recycling bin. “Forget that nonsense. I’m sure the police have leads they aren’t sharing.”

I shook my head angrily. “Someone has leaked every major development in these cases so far. Yet the cops don’t have a
damn
clue.”

“Tory, I understand how upset you are, but we have to trust—”

“
I
know more than those bozos!”

Kit stopped short. “I’m sorry?”

Careful!

I buried my face in my hands. Worry for Ella was compromising my judgment.

Then I made a decision.

“Kit?”

“Yeah, kiddo?” Watching me closely.

“Please sit with me. I have some things to tell you.”

We each pulled a chair from the dining table. Sat facing each other.

Deep breath.

It’s the right thing to do.

“We need to visit police headquarters. Today. I have evidence they need to see.”

K
it led me inside the lobby of police headquarters.

My eyes shot to the intake counter—thankfully, a female officer was on duty.

I released a pent-up breath. At least I wouldn’t be recognized from our late-night visit two days ago. This meeting was going to be bad enough.

Shelton, Hi, and Ben were a few steps behind me. I’d argued that we didn’t all need to be there, but Detective Hawfield had seen things differently.

Ruth Stolowitski had Hiram by one elbow, a murderous look on her face. Shelton’s father, Nelson, had accompanied his son. Ben came alone.

Kit spoke to the desk officer, then waved us toward the elevator bank.

“Fifth floor,” I told him.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Lucky guess.”

Arriving at the Major Crimes department, we were greeted by a junior detective who led us to a conference room with a circular table large enough for everyone to sit.

At least they didn’t throw us in the box. That’s something, right?

Moments later, Hawfield walked in. He wasn’t alone.

“You’ve
got
to be kidding!” Hi blurted.

Carmine Corcoran’s scowl was as deep as ever. He’d lost a few pounds, but was still a large man, with muttonchop sideburns and a bristly black moustache. His hair was graying at the temples, making him appear more distinguished than his forty-five years merited.

Ruth popped the back of her son’s head. “Mind your manners, Hiram.”

“Why does
everyone
do that?” Hi muttered. “And that was child abuse. In front of the police, I might add.”

“Sergeant?” I tried to decipher Corcoran’s insignia. “Or is it still Security Director?”

“It’s
Captain
Corcoran now, Miss Brennan.” Spoken with evident satisfaction. “I was asked to rejoin the force after foiling those felonies last summer. I’ve moved up in the world.”

“You’re welcome.” Hi dodged another matronly swat.

Corcoran shot Hiram a hooded glance, but didn’t rise to the bait. He’d been the officer in charge during our investigation of the skeleton on Loggerhead Island last spring, and had worked private security during our pursuit of Anne Bonny’s lost fortune the following summer. Neither encounter had been overly pleasant.

Corcoran was on the short list of people I wouldn’t mind avoiding forever.

But here we were. Our luck never seems to improve.

Detective Hawfield pulled out a chair and sat. “Let’s get down to business, shall we? I thought it prudent that Captain Corcoran attend this interview, since he has some . . . experience with the witnesses.”

I’ll say.

Hawfield spread his hands. “This is your meeting. Please begin.”

Kit glanced at me. Reaching into my pack, I removed the bagged phosphate nodule and placed it on the table. Then I set two vials beside it—one containing the long black hair, the other holding my Hemastix strip.

Hawfield frowned immediately. “What is that?”

“Evidence in the kidnapping of Ella Francis.” I was surprised at how calm my voice sounded. “We discovered it behind the Flying Tomato this morning.”

“Bubby, what
is
this?” Ruth squawked.

Hi held a finger to his lips. “Quiet, Ma! Just listen.”

Hawfield’s hand found his forehead. “You’re telling me that you’ve handled evidence from a possible crime scene? That you removed it?”

I nodded. Corcoran made a noise in his throat I choose not to interpret.

“In our defense, the rock was just sitting there.” Shelton looked to his father. “The cops missed it the night before. What if it rained? Or some dog got it? We couldn’t just
leave
it.”

Nelson put a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder.

“You had no business there in the first place,” Corcoran huffed. “Like moths to a flame, the four of you. Like it or not, your actions have tainted the crime scene.”

“We didn’t touch the stone,” I said coolly. “It’s been sealed in that evidence bag since we discovered it. Shelton’s right—we couldn’t just leave it lying outside.”

Hawfield raised a hand for quiet. He seemed to have regained some of his equanimity. “Why do you believe this stone is evidence?” he asked.

I rotated the bag to expose the rust-red blemish. “The rock seemed out of place. Examining it, I noticed two things. This red stain on its side, and a twelve-inch black hair stuck to its surface, which I think might belong to Ella.”

My voice broke on her name. Kit reached over and squeezed my hand.

Hawfield gave me an appraising look. “I assume the hair is in that test tube?”

“Yes. The other vial contains a Hemastix strip I used to assess for blood. It came back presumptively positive.”

Hawfield reached over and collected the three items. “I can’t condone what you’ve done. Proper procedure is for a citizen to alert the police—”

“It’s a disgrace!” Corcoran spat, folding his beefy arms. “By handling these items, they’re now useless in a court of law. Any lawyer worth a bag of Doritos could have them withheld.”

“Maybe,” I snapped. “But I’m more worried about
finding
Ella and the twins. Your people missed this completely. Without us, you wouldn’t even have it.”

“We do multiple sweeps! We’d have found it eventually.”

“Done is done,” Hawfield said calmly. “We’ll need statements explaining what you found, where, when, who handled it, all the details.”

I nodded.

“Good. Now, is there anything else?”

“We showed the rock to a geologist.”

“More hands?” Corcoran lifted his palms to the ceiling. “Great Lord in the morning!”

Ignoring Corcoran’s dramatics, I related our visit to Professor Marzec and the information he provided. Hawfield took careful notes, then rose and left the room. We waited in uncomfortable silence for his return.

“Okay.” Hawfield sat heavily in his chair. “Is there anything else we need to discuss?”