Island of Bones (10 page)

“No.”

“Where was high school?”

“Sarasota.”

Louis heard a noise in the brush and jumped.

“Don
’t worry, it’s probably just a snake,” Frank said. “Or maybe a boar. There’s a bunch of them running around wild on this island.”

Louis rubbed his burning arm, his eyes still on the brush.

“That can last for days,” Frank said, nodding toward the puncture.

“There’s one more thing, Woods,” Louis said. “There’s a ring at your house. A white coral ring, just like the one the dead woman was wearing.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed as he drew hard on the cigarette.

“Talk to me, Woods.”

Frank’s face grew slack as he took the cigarette out of his mouth. “My daughter thinks I killed those women, doesn’t she?”

Louis drew out his Glock with his stiff right hand, shifting it to his left. He held it sideways, ready but relaxed.

“Yes, she does. She wants you to come with me to the police. That’s why she hired me. She was afraid you would panic if you were just confronted.”

Frank looked over at him and saw the gun. “You don’t have the authority to arrest me, Mr. Kincaid.”

“I don’t want you to try anything stupid either.”

“I’m not a stupid man.”

“I know that.”

“I’m not a killing man, either.”

“Then we can just go talk to the police and you can tell them what you know about the ring.”

“I can’t do that. You’ll have to shoot me or drag me. And that won’t be easy with that arm of yours. Besides, neither one of us is going anywhere tonight.”

Frank knelt and prodded the fire. The fire spat out a stream of sparks. Frank’s eyes followed them up into the black sky.

“When’s the first ferry back?” Louis asked.

“Eight.”

“We’re going to be on it.”

Frank’s eyes went to the Glock then up to Louis’s face. “All right,” he said softly. “I’ll do it for Diane’s sake.” He nodded toward the gun. “You can put that away. You won’t need it.”

Louis didn’t move. It was quiet except for the snap of the fire and the waves on the beach.

“The mosquitoes are getting bad,” Frank said. “I’m getting in the tent.” He rose slowly. “I’m not supposed to have a fire out here so if you keep it going, keep it low. And if you smoke, be careful with matches.”

Frank took one last drag from his cigarette. Then taking it from his lips, he calmly used his forefinger and thumb to snub out the glowing tip. He put the butt in his pocket.

“I’m sorry. It’s a one-man tent
,” he said.

“I’ll be fine right here,” Louis said.

Frank hesitated then nodded slowly. “I’ve got a blanket you can use. And some Deets for the mosquitoes. You’re going to need it.”

He turned and crawled into his tent. Louis waited, listening to him rummaging through something. His gaze drifted to the fire, which was quickly dwindling. He rubbed his sore
arm, thinking again of what Diane had said about her father, that he had never spent a night outdoors in his life. But it was obvious Frank Woods was a man who was not only comfortable outdoors but knew something about it.

The mosquitoes were a steady whine in his ears. It took him a moment to realize it was the only sound he could hear.

He stood and walked to the tent. “Woods?”

No answer. Not a sound. “Frank?”

Louis flipped back the flap of the tent and peered inside. It was empty.

Louis scrambled inside and pressed a hand against the back of the tent. It gave way, sliced open down the middle of the nylon. Louis held it open and stared into the thick, black brush.

Frank Woods was gone.

Louis withdrew and stood up quickly, straining to see in the darkness. The fire was about gone. There was nothing left but the white-hot glow of the lantern.

Louis snatched up the lantern and trudged up to the mangroves, whirling the lantern toward the black trees. The mangroves came alive, their roots glowing eerily bright against the deep shadows.

“Goddamn it
,” he said.

There was no way he was going into that brush. There was
no way he was going anywhere until morning. He slowly backed up, until he was near the dying fire. His eyes swept over the dark brush. Every nerve in his body felt as if it were on fire. He turned up the lantern and sat down.

“Goddamn it to hell,” he whispered.

It was only ten a.m. but Louis could feel the damp heat blanket his body as soon as he stepped out of the Mustang’s air-conditioning. His own smell rose up to him, sweat from the night spent in the tent on Cayo Costa.

The longest night in his life. A night spent crouched in the tent, slapping at
mosquitoes and jumping every time something moved outside. He was back at the dock by seven-thirty, waiting for the ferry —- and Frank Woods —- to show up. But there was no sign of Frank, and Louis had no choice but to board and go back without him.

Back at Sutter’s Marina, he called the library to see if Woods had come to work. The woman who answered said he was scheduled to work but had not shown up yet. Louis had headed right over to Fort Myers. He wanted to
see Horton and get this over with.

As he started across the street to the station, Louis rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. Shit, it was probably just the stink of fear he
was smelling. How the hell was he going to tell Horton he had let Frank Woods get away?

Louis slowed his pace near the entrance. There was a woman newscaster doing a live remote next to a WINK van,
her blond hair-helmet glowing in the bright sun. Louis recognized her from the evening news and tried to place the name. Heather something...

Was there something new on the Monkey Island Jane Doe? Louis stopped close enough to eavesdrop.

“The police have identified the victim as Shelly Marie Umber, age twenty. The identification came after a family member called the police late last night and was confirmed this morning. Miss Umber is reportedly from Fort Lauderdale...”

Louis moved on, walking a wide circle around the reporter. He heard her sign off. Heather Fox. That was it.

“Mr. Kincaid? Louis Kincaid?”

He heard footsteps behind him and turned just as she came up to him. He glanced at the camera. The red recording light was off.

“Are you involved in this case?” Heather Fox asked.

“No.”

She swept back her hair with red-nailed fingers. “Then why are you here?”

“Donuts,” Louis said.

She laughed, and he walked away.

Inside the door, he pulled off his sunglasses. The air- conditioning felt good against his face and he took a second to let it soak in. He waved to the female uniform behind the glass and mouthed Horton’s name. She smiled and buzzed him in.

Horton’s door was open and he was standing behind his desk reading something. He looked up when Louis approached.

“Hey, Kincaid
, good timing. Come on in. We ID’d the Jane Doe.”

“I heard outside,” Louis said. “How’d it happen?”

“Mel found a BOLO from Fort Lauderdale police. That’s where she’s from. The parents came in last night. Mel’s questioning them right now.”

Horton’s eyes drifted to the door and Louis instinctively
knew the chief had been the one who had broken the news to the parents. Horton hadn’t foisted the job off on some Fort Lauderdale cop. He had made the call himself.

“How’d they take it?” Louis asked.

Horton shook his head slowly. “The mother’s in shock, I guess. The father —-” Horton let out a breath. “He started screaming at me about the cops and the judges letting animals run loose on the streets, that sort of shit.” Horton sat down in his chair behind the desk. “Man, I want this guy caught, whoever it is.”

Louis rubbed a hand over
his face. “Chief, there’s something -—”

Landeta came in, moving right to Horton’s desk. He didn’t see Louis hanging back by the door.

“No way this girl was a runaway,” Landeta said.

“How do you know?” Louis asked.

Mel spun to face Louis. He gave him a look of contempt and turned back to the chief.

“The parents
spend the winter in Lauderdale then go to their home in North Carolina for the summer,” Landeta said. “They left Lauderdale on April second and the daughter stayed behind in the condo. She was a student at Nova University and was supposed to fly back north when she finished the spring semester.”

“When did they last talk to her?” Horton
asked.

“A couple of weeks later,” Landeta said. “The father took off to France on business in early May, and the mother joined him there a week later. They were going to be in Europe all summer on vacation. The mother said she talked to the daughter just
before she left. The mother called a couple of times while they were in Europe but always got the answering machine. Said she didn’t think it was strange.”

“That explains why no one came forward,” Horton said.

Mel nodded. “The mother finally got worried enough to call the condo and have somebody go up and check. Then they called the cops, who found out the girl hadn’t been to classes in four weeks. They found her car in the campus lot. It was unlocked and there was some blood inside. That’s when the BOLO went out.”

“Did the parents know she was pregnant?” Horton asked.

Landeta shook his head. “The mother was pretty shocked when I told them. She told me the daughter had a fiancé up in North Carolina, a med student named Jeremy Maynard.”

“Any chance this Maynard guy is the father?” Louis asked.

Landeta didn’t even look back at him. “Maynard said the last time he saw Shelly Umber was at Christmas. I called up to Duke and talked to some doctor who said Maynard is doing his residency at the university hospital there. It keeps him too busy to take a shit let alone fly down to Lauderdale and shoot his girlfriend.”

“How did he take it?” Louis asked.

Landeta turned. “Who?”

“Her boyfriend.”

Landeta stared at him for a moment. “How do you think?”

“Hey, look, man
—- ” Louis began.

Horton sat up in his chair. “Save it. What else, Mel?”

“The parents say she was a great kid, good student, homecoming queen, the whole shot. She was also an athlete who made all-state lacrosse team in high school and liked to ski and hike. All she wanted to do was finish college, become a pediatrician, marry Dr. Jeremy, and climb Mt. Everest someday.”

“Family have any connections here?” Horton asked.

“No,” Landeta said. “They’ve never set foot in Fort Myers before and I get the feeling they never want to come back.”

“So we’re looking at an abduction,” Horton said. “We’d better get with Lauderdale and see if there’s anything similar over there.”

Louis took a step forward, but Landeta spoke first. “The father said something strange,” he said. “They said when they were taken in to ID the daughter they weren’t sure it was her at first.”

“How come?” Horton asked.

“They said she had changed, said she was a lot thinner. And the mother was upset about the girl’s hair being cut off. She said that her daughter had long hair, like down-to-the-waist long, and never wanted to get it cut. Always wore it in a braid.”

“I remember her hair,” Louis said. “I thought it looked weird, like someone had tried to cut it off with a knife or something.”

Landeta glanced at Louis. “Why didn’t you say something at the scene?”

“It didn’t seem important then,” Louis said. “But this is a girl from a family with money, a girl who cared about her appearance and was probably strong enough to put up a fight
. Whoever abducted her might have cut off her hair to humiliate her as a control thing.”

“And kept her outside and starved her
,” Horton said. His voice trailed off as images filled the silence.

Louis shook his head
. He had to get this over with.

“Chief, can I say something?”

They both looked at Louis.

“I think I have a suspect
.”

Landeta stared at him through the yellow glasses. Louis couldn’t tell if Landeta was annoyed or impressed.

“You been doing a little investigating on your own?” Horton asked.

“
Not really. A woman came to me a day or two after the body was found and asked me to follow her father. She thought maybe he was involved.”

Horton and Landeta exchanged glances but said nothing.

“The father had the
New-Press
article on Jane Doe. He also had an old article on another missing woman from 1953.” Louis took a breath. “His name is Frank Woods. He works as a librarian here in town.”

“A librarian?” Landeta
asked.

“So you investigated this man?” Horton
asked, ignoring Landeta.

“I followed him. That’s all I was asked to do.”

“All you were paid to do, you mean,” Landeta said.

Louis shot Landeta a look. “He did nothing,” Louis said. “He’s as ordinary as a Ritz cracker. I was about to tell the daughter I couldn’t do any more when she dropped the ring on me.”

Landeta took a step toward Louis. “Ring? A ring like the one we found on Shelly Umber?”

“Yeah. Just like it.”

“You have this ring?” Horton asked.

Louis shook his head. “The daughter has it.”

“When did she show it to you?” Landeta asked.

“Yesterday.”

Horton stood up, his face flushed. “Yesterday?”

Louis tightened. He started to say something, make an excuse, but there was none. He had waited too long. He had been sucked
into believing Frank Woods was harmless. Even believing he was suicidal. He’d been wrong to wait.

Landeta’s face was suddenly in his, the yellow glasses an inch from his own eyes.

“You got that kind of lead in a fucking homicide and you sit on it? Jesus Christ —-”

“Mel, back off,” Horton said. When Landeta didn’t move, Horton pulled at his arm.

“Stupid sonofabitch,” Landeta mumbled as he moved away.

Louis stared at the window behind Horton, his chest tight.

Horton slid a legal pad at Louis. “Okay, give me names, addresses, and anything else you can think of, you got that?”

Louis grabbed a pen and starting writing.

“Where is this Woods guy now?” Horton asked.

Louis drew in a deep breath
before he looked at Horton. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Landeta asked from behind Louis.

Louis slid the pad to Horton. “I think he’s gone under. I’ll let you know if he tries to contact me.”

Horton rubbed his face, his eyes on Mel Landeta. Louis waited, knowing that Horton wanted to chew his head off but knowing that he wouldn’t. Not in front of Landeta, at least.

“Mel, go see the PIO,” Horton said.

“What for?”

“To set up a press conference. I want to use the media to help us find this guy. And tell her to make it clear that Frank Woods is only a person of interest at this point.”

“Chief, what about
—-?”

Horton held up a hand. “I’ll take care of it.”

Landeta gave Louis a final look of disgust and left. The office was quiet and it was a moment before Louis could look at Horton.

“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” Horton asked.

“I told you, Al. I told you everything I know.”

“Goddamn it, you’re smarter than this, Louis.”

“I know that.”

Horton started to say something then stopped. He ran a hand over his hair and waved at the chair. “Sit down.”

Louis took the chair across from Horton. Horton went back behind his desk and sank into his chair.

“After Mr. Umber was done chewing my ass off, he started crying,” Horton said. “I mean, like bawling, and the mother was just sitting there like a zombie, not even looking at him. Then suddenly she talks, like for the first time since they came in.”

Horton shook his head. “She looks up at me and asks if I know who killed her daughter. I didn’t have an answer for her.” Horton looked at Louis. “You wanna go out there and try?”

Louis was silent.

Horton picked up a folder, pursed his lips then dropped it.

“Look, I don’t know what we’re dealing with here,” he
said, his eyes still on the folder. “But this guy, whoever he is, is a real sadist. I don’t know if that old article about the other missing woman means anything. All I know is I have a real body over there in the morgue and real parents here in my station wanting to know who killed their kid.”

“Al, you know as well as I do that if he took one, there could be others, and this thing from 1953 could be part of it,” Louis said.

Horton was silent. “God, I don’t want to go through this again,” he murmured finally.

Neither did Louis. He had only dealt with one serial killer but he had learned that the wake they left behind was more than just a matter of body counts. It was the terror of having to
descend into the blackest pit of human nature and hope you could climb back out when it was over.

Horton was staring at the file on his desk.
He reached out and pushed it across the desk. “I’m going to do you a favor,” he said. “I’m going to let you redeem yourself.”