Lullaby for the Nameless (27 page)
She felt an eyebrow rise. This was a dump where locals could still drop bags unchecked, something Ashlyn
hadn’t thought existed anymore. Nolan drove up a hill until they were level with the tops of three Dumpsters, a sign between the farthest one and the middle one detailing what people were and were not allowed to dispose of, the “No Appliances” line sprayed through with red, an old fridge left teetering on the edge of the hill above the Dumpster behind the sign.
As soon as Nolan put the Rodeo in park, Ashlyn got out and surveyed the Dumpsters.
The body lay facedown in the garbage in the middle one. The tip of a blade protruded from the middle of her back, a circle of red surrounding the metal. An old-fashioned white nightgown stretched down to her ankles and her arms were spread out from her sides, so that her body formed the shape of a cross. There was a rigidity to the limbs, something artificial about the way they lay on the refuse, the sharp right angles betraying the fact that the body had not simply been shoved over the side or tossed in with the trash. She had been placed in the partially filled Dumpster deliberately.
Carefully.
The manner of display as important as the method of death.
“She’s been posed,” Ashlyn said.
Tain was beside her. “Like Mary Donard.”
“But Donard was partially wrapped, wasn’t she?”
“Other than the fact that Donard was faceup, it’s the same pose, and Donard had a similar nightgown on under the wrappings.”
“That’s not the only thing that was different with Donard,” Ashlyn said.
Tain looked at her. “The scene has to be processed before we’ll know what’s different, and what isn’t.”
“Almost everyone we have is tied up with Mrs. Wilson,” Nolan said. “This case snowballed so fast we’re stretched thin. Sullivan might need to bring in more help.”
Tain glared at him. “Let’s hope not.”
“Come off it, Tain. With Winters gone, it’s down to five men.”
“Not counting Sullivan, or any man in uniform.”
“Or any woman,” Ashlyn said. “Look, this isn’t helping. We need to process this scene before the weather turns. That’s what we brought our own gear for, right?” Ashlyn turned back to the Rodeo and walked around to the back of the vehicle. Nolan followed and helped her remove the supplies she’d insisted they take the time to pack before leaving the station.
They eased themselves into the Dumpster. Tain and Ashlyn started from the corners and worked their way in, bagging and tagging as they went, photographing items of interest. Nolan worked from the center. When a body lay on the ground it was often easy to start with the victim and work out from there, but in a Dumpster, making a move for the center where the body lay could mean disrupting crucial evidence. Someone had disposed of this girl’s body. They’d taken the time to lay her in a very specific way.
Whoever it was, they’d been inside that Dumpster, only hours before, and with a little luck and careful processing, the constables would discover that a body wasn’t the only thing the killer had left behind.
“We aren’t going to make it,” Nolan said after an hour of slow wading through trash. “I just felt a raindrop.”
“Was that a tent in the back of your Rodeo?” Ashlyn asked as she rolled her left shoulder and fought the urge to reach behind her and rub her neck. She couldn’t risk removing the work gloves that protected her hands, and considering what she’d been forced to sift through, she didn’t want to touch her skin with the gloves still on. “Can we use a canopy to cover the scene?”
Nolan turned back to the edge of the bin and gripped it with his hands, then pushed himself up. When he got to the top he removed the coveralls and disappeared.
Instead of Nolan reappearing at the side of the Dumpster, the sound of another door opening and closing and hum of an engine filled the silence.
“I just felt a drop,” Ashlyn said as gravel crunched with the Rodeo moving away from them.
Tain frowned. “What the hell is he do—”
More gravel crunched as the hum grew louder, and where Ashlyn had originally expected to see Nolan brake lights appeared instead.
The lights faded, and the hum of the engine died. Another door slam and Nolan appeared at the side of the Rodeo.
“Use the signpost for one end, and we can tether the other corner to the vehicle. Turns out I had a tarp in there I hadn’t opened yet.”
Nolan worked the upper corners while he tossed rope and the other ends of the canvas to Tain and Ashlyn. They both inched their way through the Dumpster, trying to avoid sharp metal or glass or a puncture from a discarded needle or God knew what that had been discarded there.
Ashlyn was just glad the Dumpster wasn’t completely full. Not only did it mean she wasn’t up to her neck in trash, it meant she could work her way along the edge without disrupting all the potential evidence she had yet to look through.
Not to mention the obvious fact that it was making the process of sifting refuse less time consuming than it might otherwise have been.
Ashlyn had just finished tethering the rope to the cor
ner of the Dumpster when the tap-tap of rain began beating against the tarp. The first few tentative drops gave way to the rhythmic drumming of the rain falling against the covering.
Nolan had replaced his coveralls and returned to the Dumpster, and Ashlyn turned to find him approximately where she’d been before moving to secure the covering.
“I’ve worked my way through everything up to the body from that side,” he said.
“Should we call Sullivan?” she asked.
“Done. When I was moving the vehicle.”
Ashlyn nodded. Across the Dumpster she could see Tain’s furrowed brow, and even in the growing darkness she could tell there was a shadow behind his eyes.
Nolan didn’t want to be the first to assess the body.
The distant hum of engines broke the stillness and she listened as she opened the next bag of trash and began going through the contents. Within a few minutes she’d tossed the bag behind her and moved on to the next one, just as the sound of crunching gravel grew closer and a flash of lights cut through the thick gray that shrouded them.
A door slammed shut and the silhouette of a man appeared in the headlights beside Nolan’s Rodeo.
“Jesus.”
Ashlyn glanced at Nolan as the figure above the Dumpster disappeared. More doors slammed, but the hum of that engine and glow of the lights remained.
Sullivan returned wearing coveralls and the steel-toe work boots that were best for Dumpster diving. He slid in along the edge near the center, where Nolan had already cataloged potential evidence.
“We’ve covered that area already,” Nolan said. “We haven’t touched the body.”
Their sergeant looked at them for a moment. Since he was backlit, Ashlyn wasn’t sure if she could really see his eyes narrow, or if she imagined the reaction.
“I didn’t realize they’d gone back after the first bodies were found.”
“It’s not like they’ve got a field office here,” Sullivan said. “The back and forth is slowing things down.”
In the time since their arrival, there had been many questions going through Ashlyn’s mind. As much as she’d tried to focus on the tasks in front of her and not consider what they might still find, she’d felt the anticipation building.
She didn’t want to know, but she needed to know.
Something about the whole case didn’t sit right. What was it Tain had said earlier, about Winters?
Why had he tried to leave her behind?
Why had he warned her not to trust anyone?
The longer she stood in the Dumpster, the more she felt the stiffness in her neck, the pinch in her shoulders protesting prolonged use.
She pushed her way through the trash bags that had already been sifted, which were stacked behind Nolan, and waded through the scattered debris that remained between Sullivan and the girl. Nolan had said he’d already processed everything, and she remembered seeing him right beside the body.
He hadn’t removed the last few bags when he’d finished, but left them in place. Ashlyn might have believed that he wanted to help clear the Dumpster as quickly as possible in the hopes that the coroner would be present to assess the body before they had to move her, but his unwillingness to move those bags suggested that wasn’t the reason he hadn’t started assessing their victim.
Nolan was unable to face what they all feared they’d find.
Ashlyn pushed the questions from the forefront of
her thoughts and reached for the bags. She pulled one out of the way, followed by another and another, and after a fourth bag was moved, only the extended left arm remained propped up by piles of rubbish.
She had a clear view of their victim’s body from the side, and with the garbage removed, a second body was exposed. Ashlyn fought the urge to wrap her arms around herself, her spine quivering as though a bucket of ice water had been poured down her back. Despite the chill, it was a sharp intake of breath beside her that made her jump. As she blinked, she looked up at Tain, his gaze fixed on the body of the baby that had originally been concealed by its mother.
HAPTER
T
WENTY-SIX
Eighteen months ago
As Ashlyn watched Constable Melissa Keith, she felt like slipping back into the hallway and waiting until later to approach her. Keith’s easy banter with Getz and the other uniformed officers and her infectious laugh had a way of making Ashlyn feel like she was back in junior high, in her awkward ugly duckling phase, when she had feet three sizes too big for her body, felt like everyone was staring at her, and second-guessed her every word.
A few weeks earlier, Ashlyn couldn’t have imagined feeling so insecure, but she’d let the indifference of Oliver and Aiken, the resentment of Campbell and the tension with Tain and Nolan get the better of her.
She took a deep breath, drew herself up to her full height and approached the group of officers.
“Constable Keith, do you have a moment?” she asked.
“I’ve been trying to track down the missingpersons reports—” Ashlyn began.
“All we can find are reports for younger children, men, and women over thirty. The other ones are missing,” Keith said.
“Like someone went through the folders and took out all the teenage girls and younger women who could be considered potential victims.” Ashlyn frowned. “I can’t even get a handle on how they came up with the list of eleven we’re investigating.”
“That I can help you with,” Keith said. “A few weeks before the task force was assembled, Constable Tain compiled a list.”
Ashlyn felt her eyes widen. “You mean, Tain’s the last person we know of who had access to all the files?”
Keith hesitated, her smile now completely gone. “No, I know the task force started going through them, and Tain wasn’t even originally assigned to the group. Tain had been partnered with Winters, but when Winters was put on the team, Tain was left on regular rotation. Nolan was part of the task force before he was.” She stopped talking abruptly.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“The day Winters got attacked? It was Nolan’s first day. Sullivan reassigned Tain after Winters was hospitalized, and then Tain started looking for those files. It seems that between the time he made the list and the time he was reassigned, they went missing.”
Ashlyn considered that. “Why did Tain make the list if he wasn’t originally part of the task force?”
Keith shrugged. “All I know is that Tain had a tip, something about cross-border smuggling. He was trying to find a break in the case. They tried for a bust, and
it went bad. Before that, he’d asked me to gather the missingpersons files for him, but that was before there was a task force. I just assumed Sullivan had him do it. Nobody really knew what he was working on, except Winters.”
“So Tain took the list to Sullivan?”
Keith shook her head. “The names came from the local paper. An anonymous tip from someone close to the investigation.”
“Did you tell Sullivan that Tain had made the list?”
She glanced over her shoulder, then leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Look…maybe I shouldn’t have said he made the list. I think he did. But he never told me why he wanted the files or what he was doing with them.”
“You sounded pretty confident a minute ago.”
“I went by his desk and he had them stacked with a piece of paper on top. Ten names. When he came in, I asked if he wanted me to put the files back or if he wanted to see the new ones that had come in. He told me to get lost.” Keith hesitated. “I’m sure it’s the same list, but if you ask me, it’s not Tain’s style to talk to reporters.”
Which raised the question of how someone had taken Tain’s list and fed it to the press.
“Look, I know you’re pretty new to the area, but you’ve been on the streets more than I have. What can you tell me about Bobby Hobbs and Eddie Campbell?”
Melissa Keith gave her an
Oh my God
look and her upper lip curled. “Hobbs thinks the world of himself. Most nights of the week you can find him out at The Goldmine. Find a pair of tight jeans and a low-cut shirt and you’ll have the displeasure of meeting him inside of five minutes.”
“What about Eddie?”
“He’s there sometimes, too. If Bobby gets lucky, he ditches Eddie.”
“Eddie not much of a ladies’ man?”