The Haunted Bones (13 page)

"But you didn't, Dev."

"I didn't know that at the time. I couldn't
remember anything in those first months." I said that a bit too
harshly. "But as my brain started healing, some things came back to
me and I remembered I never had any kind of relationship with Llse.
But no one would believe me, Julie. Not even you at first. So I
spent nine months in rehab after six in a coma, and the only
visitors I had were Vale, my sister, and Pink, because as soon as
it was clear I couldn't remember what they wanted me to remember,
nobody wanted to talk to me." I was getting emotional and I didn't
want to do that. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to
remember these things.

I turned and headed back to the front of the
building.

"She was sleeping with Jimmy."

Julie's voice echoed all around me and broke
up my little pity party. I stopped and turned. I'd known what Jimmy
was doing…with Llse…but Julie wasn't supposed to know it. I knew he
hadn't been as strong as me to see how wrong Llse Wallace was. I
stood there and didn't say a word.

Julie was facing away from me, her gun down
at her side. "I discovered the affair the day after we agreed to
start a family. He'd been real careful, Dev. Real careful. But I
think…I think she wanted me to know, because she called the home
phone. Acted like she'd made a horrible mistake at the end of her
little porno message."

She sniffed, and I watched her shoulders
lower. "And I knew that night he'd gone to be with her. You know
what I was doing when you two were shot? I was kicking him out of
the house, Dev. I was getting rid of him. I ripped up his clothing,
destroyed his prized collection of bottled ships…I was so angry.
And then I got the call…you both were shot. He was dead…" She
turned and looked at me. Tears stained her face. "But you were
fighting for your life. So I held on to the thought that
maybe…maybe you would tell me that it wasn't true. That it was a
lie and she was lying because we know she's a liar!"

The last shout rang inside the building. I
felt my own heart leap into my throat and swallowed it.
"Jewels…"

"Did you know you're the
only one who ever calls me that? Jim never would. He said that
was
your
name for
me. So I only let you call me that." She wiped at her face with the
back of the hand holding the gun. "So…I, ah…I watched as the bitch
trashed your name and left my husband alone. He died a hero. But I
never felt like a hero's wife, Devan. Not once."

When she walked past me, I sensed she didn't
want me to touch her, so I lowered my camera and walked silently
behind her.

Twenty One

Of the thirty shots I took, fifteen had
images on them. The same ghostly wisps of people. But I knew these
people. We looked at them on Vale's computer screen, which didn't
have the resolution we needed. But there they were…images of the
night I was shot.

The most telling picture showed an obviously
dead Jimmy Herndon just inside the front door. Five shots of him
from different angles, as if the ghost of his death had posed for
me.

The most confusing pictures were the
multiple placements of him, as well as Ferrell. In a few, Jim was
by the door, and Ferrell was in the room Llse claimed she was held
in. But Ferrell was also sprawled where Jim was just inside the
warehouse entrance in three others.

I watched Vale's face for a while. "Not what
you wanted?"

"Oh, they're more than I hoped for. But I
had hoped to show Ms. Wallace in a different location. Perhaps not
in the room, but out there with the two of you."

"You're making Llse to be the shooter?"
Julie sounded as surprised as I was. I always wondered if she had
something to do with it, but I never really pinned her for the
shooter.

"I don't think the pictures show living
people." I pointed to a blank area. "I was here, right? When these
two were found near me? But I'm not there."

"Because you didn't die?" Julie straightened
up and shivered. "But, didn't those pictures of the Birch murders
show their killer? Remember the darker shadow?"

I pursed my lips. "You have a point. I just
don't know how this is supposed to work."

Vale flipped through the shots. "My guess is
Jimmy was dragged in here and the whole scene was staged, and the
blood cleaned up."

"You didn't find anything there with
forensics?"

"Oh, I doubt they looked at the entrance. No
immediate bodies there." Vale shifted in his chair. "If we sort
through the positions—" Vale moved pictures around on the screen.
"It looks like Ferrell was shot in that room—see his body in this
picture?"

Julie and I nodded.

"When Jimmy showed up he was shot, and then
when you arrived, you were shot, Dev."

Julie leaned against the desk. "So we can
only see wherever the dead are."

Vale's desk phone rang. "Brenner," Vale said
as he picked it up. "Get me the autopsy file on Mason Ferrell." He
put the receiver to his ear. "Vale."

I stared at the images as Julie left the
office. I wanted to get them on my home computer and do a bit of
enhancing to bring out the features.

"I see…" Vale was saying. "Okay, call me as
soon as you know something." He hung up. "That was Rosenberg. He
swung by Meehan's first before driving out to the warehouse."

"Rosenberg never showed up at the
warehouse."

"I know. Because when he got to Meehan's
someone had attacked Meehan in his home. Rosenberg's at the
hospital with him now. Meehan's going to be okay, but he told Theo
a dark-haired woman in a trench coat and crazy eyes knocked on his
door and then hit him with a stun gun. She shot him with something
and started asking him questions about you, and about your
pictures."

Holy—

"Why would someone question Meehan about the
pictures?"

"Probably saw him on TV during the interview
we staged. I think we just spooked Ms. Smith because Meehan
identified her from that mugshot."

"Do they know where she went?"

"No. But apparently you were the focus of
conversation." Vale blew air out between his lips in a rare sign of
frustration. "McNally, I think it's time we put you under
protection."

"Oh no…no…" I backed up. I needed to get to
my house and at least grab my laptop. I also wanted to check and
see if Mary Smith had taken my tablet from Julie's place, since I'd
put it under the couch when I plugged it up. I hadn't checked.

"Under no circumstances are you to go back
to your house."

"You've had a car watching, right?"

"Yes, and they haven't seen anyone show up
yet. Other than the mailman."

"Captain, I need to get the laptop. Have a
uniform take me there if you want, but if I can use my software to
enhance these pictures, I might be able to find more details. I'll
come right back here."

He looked as he was gonna say no, but
abruptly nodded. "I'll have Kulkarni drive you."

I didn't see Julie before I left. I was a
little glad of that, since she'd want to go with me and I wanted
her safely in the station. I really didn't think this Ms. Smith
would actually come after me in the house—not with cop cars outside
of it. So in my opinion, running in to grab the laptop was a great
idea.

We got to the brownstone in a half hour. It
was getting dark and I told Kulkarni to wait outside. The other
officer assigned to watch the house conferred with him and reported
nothing was happening.

I unlocked the door and nearly tripped over
the mail. After scooping it up and tossing it into a bowl on the
coffee table, I went to the shelf to grab my laptop. My phone
buzzed and I assumed it was Julie. After I had the laptop stowed in
the bag, I grabbed the cord, extra flash drives, and my Bamboo
tablet. A look up the stairs, and I thought grabbing a shirt and
jeans wouldn't hurt.

My phone chirped to let me know there was a
message as I set the computer by the door and took the steps two at
a time. Once inside the bedroom, I pulled my overnight bag from the
under the sink and dumped toiletries inside.

The phone buzzed again. This time I pulled
it out and looked at the call. This one was from Vale. The missed
one was from Debbie..

Why was my sister calling me—oh crap. Pink's
birthday! Was it today? I turned to head out of the room when
something very heavy clocked me against the side of my head.

Twenty Two

He was easy to take down but harder to drag
back into the bathroom. Mary had everything where she wanted it,
having hidden out in the watched house for over a day after
interrogating the chubby blond detective. It was the perfect place
to watch a little TV and keep up with the news. But what she really
wanted to know, she was sure this guy had the answers to.

She handcuffed his wrists behind him before
she pulled and propped him against the side of the tub. She pulled
out the rope and made a noose, looped it around his neck and then
tied the other end to the middle shower knob. She made it just taut
enough to keep him immobile but not choke him. Yet. She guessed she
had about half an hour max before the cops came looking in the
house. Lucky for her, she'd locked the doors downstairs.

She leaned him against the tub and duct
taped his ankles together, and then looped another rope around them
and tied it to the bed frame just past the bathroom door. It would
hold him in place just long enough.

After running a little cold water on her
hands, she slapped his face. Hard.

He sputtered and then choked as his
movements tightened the noose. It took him about a minute to size
up his situation as she pulled the syringe from her pocket and
stuck it into his neck, careful not to nick the jugular or press
the poison into him. He started to yell out, but she was ready for
that and shoved a bar of soap in his mouth. "Sshh. You have about
two minutes before this poison starts working. You tell me what I
need to know and I won't jam the rest of it into you."

He stared at her and nodded. She pulled the
soap out and he spit several times as soapy saliva ran down his
chin. "You…you're Mary Smith."

"Good memory, but not what I want to know.
This is a syringe of poison. Don't ask me what kind because I don't
know. What I do know is it killed my fifth husband in three minutes
and it wasn't a pretty death. He foamed at the mouth and convulsed
all over the bed. The doctors didn't find anything, so I
figure…it'll look like your brain injury will have finally taken
the best of you."

His face was red, but she figured that was
from the pull of the noose around his neck. The end of the rope was
in reach in case she needed to use it. Blood dripped from the hole
in his neck and ran down under his collar. He tested the strength
of the handcuffs.

"Now…I suggest you think fast," she said.
"You have to tell me where the real bones are."

The look on his face bothered her. "The real
bones? You mean the ones…" He spit again. "Ugh… the ones in the
wall?"

"Yes. Those weren't Patsy Granger's bones.
Those were Lizzie Poulin's bones, right? You made that up just to
spite me. You made me mad so I had to kill Auggie." She stopped
herself. Why was she telling him so much?

"No…" He tried to move and was caught by the
rope again. He coughed and his face was redder than before. "Those
were Patsy Granger…"

"No!" She pushed her face into his. "Those
are my mother's bones! I put her in that wall so I know those are
hers!" By the time she finished, she was screaming at him.

Pounding downstairs. The cops outside.

Too late. It was all too
late. And it was too late for him. "I know you lied. She's dead
because I
killed
her. She wouldn't let me have any friends growing up. She was
a bitch…nothing but a damn bitch!"

Something sharp struck her back. The cops!
She turned and saw two curly wires running from her shoulder to a
gun in the hand of a dark-clothed figure—

Her body jerked at as the trigger to the
air-dart stun gun was pulled. She lost control of her body for a
few seconds, but refused to give up. When the pain stopped, she lay
on top of McNally's legs, her hands at her sides. A gloved hand
slipped over her mouth and used her chin as a means to pull her
body backward. The grip was strong and the smell…

She knew that scent.

It was a scent that had haunted her for
twenty-five years.

The sent of the dead.

She kicked and tried to scream, but the
gloved hand had her jaw clenched tight. She saw the needle in front
of her, no longer buried in McNally's neck but in the gloved hand
of death.

A sharp pinch as it slid into her own neck.
She thought she felt the warm poison as it spread fast throughout
her body. Her captor released her and she fell on top of the
photographer's legs. Something heavy pressed on her chest. It
crushed her lungs as she looked up into the golden face of Black
Angel.

Her last thought before leaving this world
was that Auggie was wrong. The Angel was still taking jobs.

Twenty Three

I gasped for breath as Mary's convulsing
body pulled me down. The noose around my neck tightened and my
vision came and went. I thought I saw someone in a black coat and
hat, with a golden face. But I wasn't sure. It reminded me of the
mask Cahan used, but it was different. This one was smoother. The
features more elegant.

The mask faced me, and I thought he were
going to kill me, too. He still had the syringe in his hand. Panic
made my heart race as the mask came closer, and I blacked out.

Again.

When I came to, I was on my bed with an
oxygen mask on my face. I reached up to move it, but a hand stopped
me. "Not yet, Mr. McNally. You inhaled something with a bit of a
narcotic in it. We need to get your lungs cleared."