Pulling in a satisfied breath, he was unable to tear his gaze from the images. For days he’d wondered if Harvey had seen his message. He’d feared his father would go to his grave never knowing that his creation had matured and become the man Harvey had intended.
He watched the cops, shovels in hand, hovering around Smith’s graves and his own. He touched the screen, wishing Harvey and he could share this moment together. The old man was sick, dying, and there’d not be many days left.
Robbie tipped back his head and closed his eyes smiling. Thank you, Harvey.
Years ago, Smith had tried to make him into a man and he’d failed. After a decade he’d finally proven himself to his father.
Harvey had said there was no sweeter rush than killing. Robbie hadn’t experienced a rush; however a deep satisfaction had washed over him when he’d shoveled the last bits of dirt on the grave.
Harvey’s days were down to a precious few. He had weeks at most.
If he didn’t delay, perhaps he could kill several more times before Harvey died. The old man could read about his exploits in the news and perhaps recapture the thrill that had given him such joy.
For Harvey, he would keep killing.
Chapter Five
Sunday, April 7, 3:00 P.M.
“We have three skeletonized remains,” Marissa Reardon, the medical examiner’s assistant, said.
Brody hitched his muddied boot on the bumper of the medical examiner’s van as Marissa cradled a warm cup of coffee in her hands. Petite and in her early thirties, she wore her long, dark hair tied back in a ponytail. She was the only tech he’d met who always wore makeup, perfume and earrings no matter the time of day or weather conditions. Jokes painting her as a debutante made her laugh, but when she was on the job it was all about business.
Brody leaned in. “Just as we expected.”
“There will have to be lots of testing at the lab when we get the remains back, but they’ve been in the ground a long time. You said Smith was arrested three years ago?”
“That’s right.”
She sipped her coffee. “That would fit the initial findings here.”
“Can you identify them?”
“Seeing as you have three victims that were never accounted for, it will be easy enough to match dental records. And if we don’t have those records we might be able to pull DNA from teeth or bones.”
“One of the victims suffered a fractured femur when she was eight.”
Marissa shrugged. “An X-ray can also assist with identification.”
A grim sense of satisfaction worked its way through his tense muscles as it did after a grueling workout. “You haven’t discussed the fourth victim.”
A sigh shuddered through her body as she stared at the grave she’d yet to unearth. “That’s why I decided to take a quick break. I’m tired, and I want to be on my game when we excavate the fourth victim.”
“What do you mean?”
“GPR suggests those remains aren’t old. It indicated the presence of flesh.”
“Flesh. That can’t be right.”
“I excavated part of the skull.” Cradling her coffee in both hands, she took a sip. “From what I can tell, the deceased hasn’t been in the ground much more than a week.”
“What?”
“Your fourth victim couldn’t have been killed by Smith. Unless he found a way to sneak in and out of prison without anyone noticing.”
Brody’s frown deepened. Smith had mentioned an apprentice. Robbie. “When can you excavate that body?”
Marissa stared into her coffee cup, as if willing it to give her strength. “Give me a minute. The men and I will get started again soon.”
“Thanks.”
In the last seven hours Brody had been so caught up in the crime scene he’d not been able to get back to check on Jo. Now as he moved away from Marissa he caught sight of her pale face, as she stood alone, huddling in her jacket. He now regretted not making the time to check in on her.
“Jo,” he said.
She raised her head. Recognition flickered in her gaze but there was no hint of a smile. “How’s it going?”
“The forensic team is excavating the first three bodies.”
“And the fourth?”
He tightened his jaw. “It’s not like the others.”
“Meaning?”
“This last victim was killed within the last week.”
Her head tipped, as it did when she was a teenager. The slight movement indicated she’d stepped back from emotion, and her brain had turned to computing the issue at hand. “Smith mentioned the apprentice. Robbie.”
“I know. I wasn’t sure how to take the information.”
“Did you check the paper for the ad?”
“I did. Most look like typical ads, whereas a few appear to be messages. ‘In it to win it’ was one. Another was ‘Bluebonnets’ and the last, ‘Call Rafe.’ Robbie and Harvey aren’t the only ones who use the classifieds for messages. We’re trying to trace all the purchasers of those ads. But each was paid for with cash.”
A furrow creased the delicate skin between her eyes. “I should go back and talk to Smith again. Find out what else he knows about Robbie.”
“There’s time for that. First, we finish what we have here.” He sure as hell wouldn’t let her go back to that prison alone. He’d hated the way that monster had stared at her through the glass. Crawled in her head. Whenever he’d dealt with Smith in the past he’d always been able to keep his cool. He could play nice with the animal in the hopes of getting answers. But he’d come close to losing his temper yesterday.
She raised her chin a notch. “This is your investigation, so I’ll take my cue from you. But I’m no kid. I know what I’m doing, and I can handle Smith.”
“This is no reflection on your professional talent.”
He’d never had doubts about her intellect. From
the get-go, he’d known she was smarter than most, including himself, and could do or be whatever she wanted. “Trust me on this one.”
“Of course.”
Stiff, professional, he understood her trust did not extend beyond work.
Marissa, who now worked on the fourth victim, motioned him to come.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said.
“Let me have a look. I might see something.”
He frowned. “Suit yourself.”
When they reached the burial site roped off by yellow crime scene tape, Brody reached for plastic gloves in his coat pocket. He handed a set to Jo and called out to Marissa. “What do you have?”
“I’ve cleaned off the face and upper body.” She rose and stepped aside as a forensic technician snapped digital pictures. “But it’s clear she was young. I think her hair was blond. It’s so caked with dirt now.” She hesitated. “I’m going to let the medical examiner do the cleaning. I don’t want to disturb any evidence.”
Brody raised the tape for Jo and the two ducked under. Immediately, the heavy scent of death rose foul and putrid from the ground. He’d smelled it enough times and knew he could handle it.
He knelt beside the body and stared at the dirt-caked face of the victim. A woman. No more than thirty. Likely, blond hair. High, sunken cheekbones. The expression frozen on her face telegraphed panic. This close, the odors were thick and heavy.
“Smith buried his victims alive,” Brody said. “Was she buried alive?”
Marissa shook her head. “I don’t know. There is substantial dirt in her mouth and nose but the medical examiner will have to open her up.”
“Dr. Granger,” Brody said without glancing back. “Any thoughts?”
Slowly she knelt beside him and cleared her throat. She lifted her hand to her nose. “Can you remove more of the dirt?”
Marissa nodded and with a small brush slowly brushed away the dirt. A half hour later, the victim’s clothed torso was exposed.
Jo cleared her throat, raised her hand to her nose. “Smith abused his victims physically and tied the victims’ hands at their sides, so they couldn’t claw free of the dirt. This victim’s bindings are consistent with Smith, but there is no bruising on her face.” She swallowed.