Skye Cree 03: The Bones Will Tell (16 page)

T
he same day Skye found out the owner of the farmhouse had accepted their bid, the mailman dropped off the third package from their psycho to the Artemis Foundation—an innocuous-looking carton decorated with little red hearts drawn on the front and back.

A little late for Valentine’s Day, Skye surmised as she used a letter opener to cut through the tape. This time he’d sent the upper and lower arm bones
, presumably from the first victim. Another job for Bayliss or Dawson to figure out, Skye decided.

She lifted th
e note on top with the same tongs she’d used before. Sad that she’d kept the utensil here at work rather than using it for its intended purpose in her kitchen at home. Holding the note out, she read the message, brief but to the point.

You’re in over your head. Admit it.

Maybe she was, Skye thought as she reached for the phone. But damn if she wouldn’t give it her best shot to find this bastard. She dialed Harry’s number first, then Josh’s, then had to look up the contact information for Dawson Hennings.

Harry
decided the best course of action this time was for Skye to bring the box directly to the medical examiner’s office.

There
, Skye watched as a technician dusted the box and its contents for fingerprints. They took Skye’s so they could eliminate them from the carton.

Disgusted
with frustration, she pointed out, “You do realize that the mailman’s are probably all over the outer shell and the dozen or so other people who handled it at the post office, don’t you?”

“Sure I do. But when you’ve got nothing, you have to reach for anything
. Process of elimination,” Harry barked.

Josh looked around the room
at the faces of the same people who’d started this quest. “No fingerprints leave us with exactly what we had before. Nothing.”

The grumbling had
Dawson offering up a tidbit. “It isn’t all bad news. I can tell you this much. I was able to extract DNA from the first set of bones to get a profile. It’s female. I entered it into the FBI’s National Crime Information Center and CODIS, category, unidentified human remains. I also got fingerprints off the mummified hand which I entered into IAFIS. We might get a hit there if the victim was ever picked up for anything. But to get a match to the profile in NCIC or CODIS…”

“A family member would have had to enter theirs.”

“You already knew that,” said Dawson with a wry smile. “I urge patience because the labs are backed up and sometimes it can take as long as four to eight months for results.”

Josh looked around
the lab at the glum faces. “Let’s hope whoever this is has family out there somewhere who cared enough to submit a swab.”

Skye spoke up.
“It isn’t that, Josh, sometimes the family members just don’t know to do it. Unless they’re a fan of
CSI
or
Criminal Minds
, they don’t know they can obtain a kit free of charge specifically for that purpose.”

“
Maybe we could push that to the forefront through the Foundation,” Josh suggested before turning to Dawson, “Any idea how old she was? The victim from the first set of bones?”

“
Young. My guess is between seventeen and twenty,” Dawson answered. “As for DNA from the hand, I’m still working on getting a strong enough sample to profile.”

“Protocol has changed quite a bit in recent years on how we handle missing cases versus human remains,” Harry
revealed. “Now when a person goes missing we approach the family to ask for a DNA sample. In the Maggie Bennett case for instance, it’s routine if she had remained missing for longer than thirty days. The lead detective would have simply gone to her loved ones at some point and requested a cheek swab or some personal item he could use down the road for DNA comparison, like a hairbrush. The sample is sent to the lab, analyzed and then uploaded to the database where it’s kept there.”

Bayliss assessed the troops. In his no-nonsense way, he added, “Drummond
twisted my arm so that my office would revisit a few cold cases for him, to help out. You might want to listen up to what we’ve found. Back in 2000 they brought in a female, dismembered and unidentified. At the time the body was in an advanced stage of decomposition. But there were marks on the upper vertebrae indicating that whoever killed her tried to remove the skull.”

“He tried to cut off her head?”
Skye asked in astonishment.

“Exactly.
There were saw marks. But he was unsuccessful.”

“You have photos?”

“Of course.”

Skye watched as
Bayliss scooted around evidence boxes and took out several file folders until he handed one off to her.

Drawing in a solemn breath at the sight of the gruesome autopsy images
, Skye shuffled through the pictures in rapid order. But then stopped, realizing she needed to suck it up. What was the point of asking to see them if she had no intentions of really looking at the details? This victim deserved better. She reshuffled the stack, scanned each one at a time in slower study.

“She obviously died a horrendous death, got dumped in a field until a hik
er stumbled upon her body,” Bayliss said in a somber tone.

“So w
e don’t know who she was or what she did for a living,” Josh said taking the photos Skye had given him. “How old do you think this one was?”

“I’d say
by the condition of her skin, the condition of her bones and teeth at the time of autopsy, a best guess, early thirties,” Bayliss answered.

“
However long she lived, it wasn’t long enough, that’s for sure,” Skye grumbled. She stared at Bayliss, met intense eyes and asked, “By mentioning this one, you think we should include her on the list.” It wasn’t a question.

“That’s up to you. I’m giving you the facts as to what the autopsy told me. Then there’s this one.” Again, Bayliss hunted through the files until he found the one he wanted. “The victim had bruises from her face to her shinbone like she’d been repeatedly whacked with a blunt instrument.
What instrument exactly is indeterminate, but I did take impressions if we ever have anything to compare them to.”

Skye took the pictures
again after they’d made the trip around the room. She noticed the grotesque condition of the body almost at once. These photos were even worse than the other victim’s had been. The images made her a little sick at her stomach. As the taco she’d eaten for lunch wanted to come back up, she tamped it down, considered another point. “But she wasn’t dismembered.” 

“True. But here’s the thing. The killer tried. See t
he back-and-forth knife marks at the throat, then again on the torso. They indicate a primitive sawing motion. Could be he was interrupted or changed his mind for some reason.”

“Or, it was an impromptu killing where he wasn’t at his usual location. He tried using whatever he had handy and it didn’t work out as well
and he gave up. Two for two in that regard.”

Bayliss and
Dawson both turned to stare at the woman in surprise. It was Dawson who told her, “You’re quite good at this. It’s as if you have some kind of second sense. It’s your Nez Perce heritage, I think.” He turned to Josh. “Yours is more…feral…and new to you while Skye’s ability is…innate.”

Josh eyed Dawson. For several long seconds the two men
scowled at one another until Josh figured out why. It seemed the anthropologist had a little crush on Skye. Like any good pack leader worth his salt, Josh determined he needed to keep an eye on the doctor. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Dawson so obviously enamored with his wife.

Sensing the tension
between the two, Skye cleared her throat. “My father’s people. The second sense, it comes from my father’s people.”

Dawson
’s gaze fell away from Josh to Skye. “Is it true what the Native American legends say about part of getting through life means staying true to your spirit guide? How does that work exactly?”

Skye tilted her head
, assessed the man’s demeanor. Noting the anthropologist seemed to be veering off the subject at hand for a reason, she decided to humor him. “Staying on your path, a path thought to be destined before birth, is customary in many types of folklore and culture, predominant in Native Americans.”

Dawson nodded. “I believe you’re meant to do this type of work.
You both are,” he finally admitted. “I’ve talked to a few people in law enforcement about you…both of you,” the man corrected, glancing over at Harry. “Drummond is one who sings your praises the most.” Now, Dawson acted embarrassed when he sent Skye a smile. “That Foundation you started is something to be proud of. What you do for victims is amazing. If you ever need a hand don’t hesitate to ask. I’m happy to help out any way I can.”

Bayliss nodded and threw in,
“My office is committed to working round the clock on this, too. Anything you need expedited, you have only to let us know.”

When they were done
with the meeting and walking back to the car, Skye leaned into Josh. “I was worried about you back there. For a moment, I thought you and Dawson were…ready to tangle.”

“He’s a strange man.”

“Not as strange as some. Why are there so many mean sick bastards out there walking among us? Who does this kind of nasty business and keeps their jobs, their families, their souls intact?”

“
People screwed up early and often,” Josh returned. “But we’re going to stop this messed up son of a bitch. He’ll make a mistake and when he does, we’ll be ready.”

That night
, before
they left to walk the streets, Travis showed up at their door, unannounced.

“What are you doing here?” Skye asked
surprised to see him holding a box clutched to his chest.

“
This nut job has me worried about you,” he looked over at Josh. “About both of you. I brought you what our people believe is protection of the strongest kind.”

“
What, you have a loaded .45 in that box?” Josh quipped.

“Maybe something more powerful
than that,” Travis told him. He took out a soft leather bag decorated with ornate beadwork. “It holds something from Daniel, the one you considered your father for so long a time, and something from me. Daniel’s spirit guide was a hawk named Deata. Mine is a crow named Eotyuu.”

“Dee-ah-tay
and Ee-ot-tu,” Skye repeated. “Yes, I know. What are you up to, Travis?”

“
Feathers from both are thought to hold great power. Native custom dictates that long after the mortal body dies, the spirit still inhabits the earth taking whatever form they used as a guide. Deata will watch over you. I can’t be with you every single second of the day. No one can. So my spirit guide will you help along the way until you’re able to defeat this man and bring him down.”

“You’re assigning your crow, Eotyuu, to me for the duration?
But what about you?”

“I am.
The shamans have told many stories, sung many songs about such things where guides are transferred to others to protect their loved ones in battles.”

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you,
my father.”

Travis smiled. “That’s the first time you’ve called me that.
I don’t want to sound greedy but I’d settle for dad at some point.”

Skye wrapped her arms around him. “Okay,
Dad
. You humble me.” She held the soft leather pouch in her hand as if weighing its contents. “This is fairly heavy for just having feathers inside.”

Travis
grinned again. “It’s a little more than that, precious stones, locks of hair from the people who love you, old tribal arrowheads, herbs used for medicine. The usual stuff, think of it as your shield.”

It was Skye’s turn to grin. She turned to Josh. “Did you know about this?”

Josh gave his wife a sheepish look. “Hey, these days I don’t give up my hair easily without a fight or a good cause. Travis and I thought it was a good idea. Why don’t you do the honors, Travis?”