His Garden of Bones (Skye Cree Book 4) (22 page)

T
he cold December breeze whipped across the water as the gang stood on the patio and watched the crime scene techs take down the macabre display.

While one investigator backtracked through the woods, the other bagged and tagged the animal remains. As it turned out, it wasn’t a wolf at all, but an Alaskan husky. The killer had gutted a beautiful white dog and tied a scarf around its neck, then left the carcass dangling from a tree.

Once Josh and Skye got a closer look, they were able to examine both in greater detail through the clear plastic evidence bag.

It was hard to miss the tattered and windblown burgundy-colored scarf wrapped around the dog’s neck. It had initials stitched into the fabric in black thread. The raised letters ‘JS’ posed a problem.

“He’s bragging to us there’s a victim out there with those initials,” Josh said as he sent Leo a sideways glance. “I don’t remember a victim on your list with the letters JS? But then my brain’s been fuzzy for a few so my memory might’ve lapsed.”

Leo went inside to retrieve his messenger bag and came back out waving the paper.

“I think you’re right. I don’t think the name of this victim’s on there,” Skye finally asserted. “He’s definitely showing off again by trying to tell us we missed this one. I’m sure he hated the idea of parting with it.”

Leo scanned the info he’d printed out days earlier. Shaken by the scene in the yard, the grown man stuttered out, “There’s no name on here with the initials JS. The only Js reported have to do with a Jennifer Layton and a Susan Jamison.”

Skye rocked back on her heels. “How far have we gotten through the list?”

“About midway,” Travis announced from the doorway. Joining them outside, he stopped to watch the flurry of activity at the tree. “Lena let me in and caught me up to speed on what happened here. She had to put Atka in the bedroom with Zoe because the dog’s been acting spooked ever since we got off the ferry. I didn’t trust Atka not to dash out the door. I didn’t think the crime scene techs would appreciate that.”

“Good call. I’ll say hello to Atka in a minute because she’s bound to smell the pork roast in the crock pot Lena brought,” Skye said with a wry smile. “These days Lena keeps the group fed whenever we’re looking at an all-nighter, like tonight.”

Travis grunted at that and eyed Josh. “I thought you installed surveillance cameras around this place.”

“I did, taking in a three-sixty panoramic view, but there are limits even to that. Our killer made sure he kept away from the house and stayed at the edge of the property. Hence the display he fashioned away from the house. You can bet next time I’ll include the woods.”

Instead of grumbling more, Travis moved next to Skye. “There’s a reason we’re making such slow progress on the list. Each call takes time to explain to whoever answers the phone why we’re calling. After all that, we have to go into detail about what we need from them.”

“I understand there’s no way to make it go any faster,” Skye noted. “It’s the nature of what we do. I’ll contact the relatives of Layton and Jamison myself and see if either woman ever owned a red scarf like the one our killer left. But I doubt it belongs to them.”

“We could get lucky,” Josh said.

She slanted him a knowing look. “Let’s hope you’re back to your old self because this is a helluva ‘welcome home’ party.”

The old farmhouse
filled quickly with volunteers—a long list of people who wanted to contribute in some way. Tate had brought his new girlfriend, Gabriella Thorenson, or Gabby as Tate fondly called her. Tate and Gabby had met at a victims’ rights group where Tate had needed help getting past the murder of his co-worker and his then girlfriend Maggie Bennett. Gabby had been attending the meeting because she’d lost a cousin to violent crime. The two had formed a natural bond. Using advocacy as their common ground what had started out as a friendship had developed into something more serious.

Leo, Reggie and Winston had bummed a ride off Judy from the office and were fascinated by her Berkenshaw survival story. Josh had been right. Once Judy had finally made the decision to leave her apartment and get involved at the foundation, the woman had come into her own around the other members. These days, Judy never held back with her thoughts and wasn’t shy about sharing her own theories.

In fact, the entire group seemed to click, a rare thing with so many different personalities in play.

Harry and the crime techs finished up the work in the backyard and left a somber atmosphere behind. They all agreed it was past time to catch this bastard. To do that, they had to keep digging and stay focused. That meant they needed food to fuel their minds and bodies.

So they made sandwiches out of Lena’s pork roast and ordered two pepperoni pizzas to feed the masses. They ate while sitting in front of their laptops in the living room. Bodies spread out over furniture and floor, the sturdy coffee table used as a bench. Limbs dangled from chairs in a laidback style as everyone scrunched together wherever they could to make room.

While stuffing their faces, they discussed the scene with the Alaskan husky, each contributing an opinion or coming up with ideas as to why someone would go to such lengths to make that kind of statement.

“He had to take most of the afternoon off to make the trip over here from the mainland,” Winston pointed out. Winston, the most introverted of the bunch, adjusted his glasses. Like Judy, lately he seemed to be opening up more and more each time he got together with his colleagues. Tonight, the programmer had been downright chatty. “When you consider our unknown subject has mutilated and killed in the past, it isn’t surprising he’d create a bold scene like that. There’s something that bothers me though. I think it’s significant he used a white dog. The symbolism represents something important to him. If we could find out what that might be, we’d be ahead of the game.”

Josh exchanged a quick look with Skye. No one knew about his link to Kiya. Josh meant to keep it that way. He decided to run a bluff. “Maybe the statement is simple. The killer found a neighbor’s white dog, one that looked similar to Atka, our malamute. The husky and malamute breeds are often mistaken because they share the same basic characteristics. Maybe this asshole intended it as a threat to our dog. Instead of writing a note this time with flowers, he came on our property to shove it in our face.”

Fortunately for Josh, Tate jumped on that. “That’s gotta be it, makes perfect sense. Why else would he kill a dog and hang it in your backyard?”

But Josh noted Winston didn’t seem inclined to buy that theory.

“We’re still running down the owners of all the white cargo vans in the state,” Reggie promised. “The problem is that type of vehicle is very popular with business owners. There are fleets of them registered to corporations and any commercial enterprise that makes deliveries. But we’ll keep on it.”

To Josh’s relief, Winston seemed willing to move on to another topic. The hacker adjusted his glasses and stated his premise. “Before we left the office I ran some numbers and discovered something we might be able to use. While looking over the database I came across an interesting fact. I’ve studied the case files of the names on our list and going over the dates they went missing, it appears that eighty-five percent of the time, the abductions occurred on a weekend, either on a Friday or a Saturday night. We’ve used this model in other cases…”

Skye dropped her fork. “Winston, that’s major. It means our killer has a regular job that takes up most of his time during the week. I bet his schedule frees up his weekends to spend hunting victims. But that’s assuming the names on the list are connected.”

“When you put it like that, this guy sounds so ordinary,” Lena pointed out. “His coworkers probably have no idea that this monster sits in the cubicle next to them.” Lena dished out salad from a huge bowl. She passed around plates piled with crisp lettuce and topped with ripe cherry tomatoes. She shoved one at Skye, then Travis, who gave her an odd look. “What? You don’t like salad?”

“No, no, I like veggies just fine,” Travis stammered. Not for the first time he stared at the cheerful Lena who always seemed willing to pitch in no matter the mission. Lena had been involved in the foundation from inception—answering phones, organizing the office, putting up flyers, and sending out emails to law enforcement agencies when warranted. She was even willing to work weekends. That was so unlike Chenoa’s selfish bent that it made him fumble with his food.

“There are several different dressings to pick from on the table,” Lena said. Then she eyed the man with closer scrutiny. “Are you okay? You look almost like a deer caught in the headlights.”

“Uh…”

Before Travis could complete his thought, Skye spoke up. “In case you haven’t heard by now, Josh and I’ve decided to throw a Christmas party on the twenty-fourth. You’re all invited.” She speared her father a sharp glance and added, “And yes, that includes Chenoa. Please bring Chenoa. I promise you I’ll be good.”

“We broke up,” Travis declared while pouring honey mustard dressing over his greens. Without looking at Skye, he picked up a slice of pizza and added it to his plate.

Josh leaned over, slung an arm over Travis’ shoulder. “Woman troubles?”

Travis faked like he intended to elbow his son-in-law’s sore ribs but stopped short of actually making contact. “Let it go. Chenoa was always impossible to deal with. I’ve accepted the fact it was never going to work out in the long term.”

“It’s better to find out now than later,” Josh sang, scooping up pork roast onto a plate. Even though he noticed Skye hadn’t said a thing, he could tell she was trying to think of something to say, maybe like a profound sentiment, without breaking into a wide grin or doing a happy dance in the middle of the living room.

“You two really called it quits?” Skye asked, as she sat gaping at her dad, unable to believe what she’d heard. “Was it because of me?”

Travis glanced around the room. “Look at all these people who showed up here tonight. They’re working sixty-hour weeks on a case they have no real vested interest in other than to catch a bad man. They’re willing to do what it takes. Chenoa was never going to be part of this or any part of my life that holds any real meaning or value, the part that means the most to me. It’s simple really. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before now or why it took me this long to come to terms with it.”

“Then she’s missing the best part of you,” Skye noted, right before she got up to place a kiss on her father’s cheek. “I’m sorry.”

With one free arm, Travis wrapped it around his daughter’s waist. “It’s not the end of the world.”

Skye followed her father’s eyes to where he watched Lena. “Now that one there is special,” she whispered. “Lena has a good heart. She’s also incredibly down to earth, gorgeous, and hot.”

“No argument there. Hey, I’m simply considering my options.”

Skye recognized interest along with her father’s tendency to drag his foot toward Lena. That’s why she pulled him out of his chair and into the kitchen so they could finish the discussion in private. “Are they lining up around the corner and I missed seeing the rush? Where are all these
options
of which you speak?”

“Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating a tad. I thought it might be nice to stay within my tribe this time around, you know, find someone I relate to on a tribal level.”

“I see. So Chenoa filled the Native requirement. But it didn’t mean she was the right person for you. I spent one evening with her and didn’t see a single thing you two shared in common except a love of horses and the same living quarters.”

“It’s not like you to rub my failures in my face.”

“That’s just it, Dad. Chenoa isn’t your failure. People sometimes never mesh no matter how hard they try. A relationship isn’t supposed to be such hard work. I wish you’d told me about her sooner. Why didn’t you?”

Travis let out a heavy sigh. “Because I guess some part of me knew it wasn’t working out and if you two actually met I’d have to face it. The truth is I’ve never quite gotten over your mother, not completely anyway.”

“Mom was a wonderful person. But she’s been gone for fourteen years now. You deserve to find a woman who gets your strange sense of humor, who shares your passions, your love for life and all things ranch-related.”

“I have a strange sense of humor?”