Virtue Falls (32 page)

“I got it on video.”

His color subsided, leaving him almost gray. “You got it on video. Where were you when it hit?”

“Here.”

“And you—”

“I ran to the canyon and got there before the first wave came in.” She opened her case and pulled out her laptop. “I uploaded it to my computer as soon as I could. So I have a backup. Do you want to see?”

She had thought he would be pleased. But he stared at her as if she aggravated him beyond belief. He barely moved his lips when he said, “Show me.”

She flipped up the screen. Bringing up the video player, she pushed
PLAY.

And she showed him.

Watching it again renewed her excitement, made her want to point and explain, and once, she did pause the video and clarify a detail her father had identified.

When the video finished, Andrew tapped his fingertips together. “So you showed this to Charles Banner.”

“I knew he would enjoy it, and as it happened, he had those new insights.”

“Have you showed it to anyone else?”

“No. No one else is interested,” she said truthfully.

“You haven’t been able to upload it online?”

“It’s been impossible, but the Internet is coming back. I plan to send it first to the Geological Society of America.”

“Yes. Of course. They would be interested, I suppose.” The finger tapping stopped. Andrew reached across the table and grabbed her wrist. “I hear you found your mother’s corpse.”

Elizabeth jerked back in shock at his touch and his words. “Yes.”

He didn’t release her. “Was there anything new there? Any detail we hadn’t heard about before?”

“I … I don’t want to discuss it.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed, and he studied her like a bug under a microscope. “All right. But finding the corpse must have greatly upset you.”

She didn’t know quite how to respond. It was like he was digging at a recent wound. “The sight of the body was traumatic, yes, but I … already knew she was dead.”

“But to actually see your mother’s corpse.” Andrew stared into her eyes. “I’m sure it was in a horrible state of decomposition.”

“Of course.” She swallowed.

He released her. “In light of the circumstances it might be better to hold back on releasing the video.”

“Hold back?” Incredulous, now Elizabeth leaned forward and spoke rapidly, persuasively. “This is an opportunity the scientific community has never enjoyed. Not even the footage of the Japanese earthquake and tsunami can compare to this cataclysm at this site, which has been studied for years. This video proves our theories about the geology of the area are correct. Not to mention that the drama of the footage will enthuse the public and help fund our research!”

“That is all true, but I’m thinking of you. With the recent developments in your mother’s case, I’m afraid you’ll face an on-camera collapse.” When she would have objected, he held up one hand. “I have long thought of you as a protégé, much as your father thought of me. Elizabeth, trust me in this matter. You’re a practical young woman, but logic cannot protect you from the trauma you suffered as a child and the renewed distress of dealing with your father, who has lost his memories of his terrible deed, and on top of all that—to find your mother’s rotting corpse.”

Andrew’s voice, deep and dramatic, made a shiver run up Elizabeth’s spine. But she kept her own voice quiet and level. “It’s a fine point, Dr. Marrero, but would you please not call my mother a corpse? That is a horror film word.”

“See?” He nodded as if he was wise. “You’re more upset than you realize.”

“I don’t really know how that proves I’m upset.” Although she was getting there, with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Nothing she said seemed to slow Andrew down; he kept rolling along. “Furthermore, you know that socially, you’re not the most competent of women. I fear that when you were the center of attention, if you failed at a critical juncture, you would do our cause more harm than good.” He stood. “Keep this video quiet for the moment. The scientific value will remain when the fuss is over, and that’s really why you took the video, isn’t it? For the good of the scientific community?”

She surrendered at last. “Yes. Of course.”

Uncharacteristically, he thumped her on the back, then turned and marched out the door.

Slowly, she put her laptop away.

Rainbow appeared and cleared away Andrew’s coffee cup. “I heard.”

“You did?”

“Of course. I was eavesdropping. How do you think I find out everything that goes on in this town?” Rainbow pulled a new bottle of water out of her apron pocket, unscrewed the cap, and put it in front of Elizabeth.

“If I didn’t know better,” Elizabeth said, “I would think Andrew Marrero was intentionally trying to upset me.”

“You would, would you?” Rainbow wore an unpleasant expression as she watched him march past the windows toward his home.

“But why would he do such a thing?”

As if Elizabeth wasn’t the brightest thing, Rainbow patted her shoulder. “Why, indeed.”

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Noah Griffin looked in his backpack and knew he should have packed more clean underwear. A lot more underwear. With electricity and water scarce and the Virtue Falls Laundromat a wreck, he was reduced to turning his boxer briefs inside out and wearing them again. And he wasn’t the kind of reporter who went out and pounded his clothes on a rock in the stream, although that might come if he didn’t get out of this disaster of a town.

But he didn’t want to leave. Maybe he wasn’t a tough reporter who faced impediments without complaint, but he was a smart one, and he recognized opportunity when he saw it.

There were stories in Virtue Falls. Interesting stories. Stories about the hardships the earthquake had brought. Stories about the brave survivors. Stories that tugged at the heartstrings. Stories that blamed the geologists for not predicting the earthquake and stories about the incompetent government that responded too slowly to the emergency.

But best of all, there was the Elizabeth Banner story.

In that, he had the ingredients for a bestselling book: a vicious domestic crime committed by a husband on his wife, an innocent child who witnessed it and who, twenty-some years later, returned to the scene of the murder to discover her mother’s missing body.

Oh, and the child had grown up to become a woman as beautiful as her mother with the intelligence of her father.

Oh, again. In the meantime, the father had gone crazy.

Did it
get
any better than that?

The guy Noah rented a room from, Old Man Landau, said he’d heard Elizabeth had returned to Virtue Falls to clear her father’s name. And Rainbow at the café had told him Elizabeth’s ex-husband had rushed to her side, and Garik Jacobsen was an FBI agent. So maybe the FBI agent also thought the father hadn’t done it.

In that case, who had?
Heh, heh.
Finding the real killer wasn’t likely, but even the mere chance made Noah’s mouth water.

In the meantime, Rainbow had also confided that Elizabeth had taken eye-popping video of the tsunami that she hadn’t been able to release yet because of the size of the file and the crappy Internet connections.

Noah wouldn’t mind being the one who helped her with that. After all, that would thoroughly piss off that total jerk, Andrew Marrero. Plus Elizabeth might be grateful, and the FBI agent was also the
ex-
husband.

Noah liked the way Elizabeth looked, and as long as he was in Virtue Falls collecting stories, he might as well create one of his own.

Grabbing his computer tablet, he headed for the Oceanview Café.

Yes, there was money to be made and fame to be found, because stories abounded in Virtue Falls, and Noah intended to find them all.

CHAPTER FIFTY

Garik walked into the courthouse intent on using his status as an FBI agent, or his background as a local, or whatever means possible to get to the morgue and view Misty’s remains.

Subterfuge wasn’t necessary.

The courthouse was quiet, staffed by a bare minimum of workers.

He asked to visit the coroner.

The officer manning the desk waved him in and went back to filling out paperwork with an ancient typewriter dragged out of some deep dark storage.

The morgue was in the basement, a dim, tiny, cold, stainless-steel-lined room with drawers where the dead rested in peace. Or not.

Mike Sun sat scowling at his old typewriter, typing with one finger at a time and cursing at every other letter. When he saw Garik, he scowled and asked, “Did you bring Wite-Out?”

“Wite-Out?” Garik laughed. “I would have, if I’d realized I was visiting the nineteen eighties.”

“This week has been one surprise after another.” Mike stood and offered his hand. “Somehow I knew you were going to find your way down here. How have you been?”

“Good.” Garik shook the outstretched hand, then the two former school friends did an affectionate fist bump. “How’s your mom?”

“Good. She doesn’t yell at me anymore.” Mike swiped his shoulder-length straight black hair off his forehead. “I’ve got a wife for that now.”

Garik worked incredulity into his voice. “Who was dumb enough to marry you?”

“You remember Courtney Clenney?”

“The babe with the…” Garik thought better of saying that. “The babe who went off and became the Victoria’s Secret model?”

Mike smiled. Smugly.

Garik looked the five-foot-five, half-Chinese and half-Aleut Mike up and down. “I mean, you’re good-looking enough, but she’s twice as tall as you are.”

“Yes. When we dance, I’ve got a great view. My dad says he can’t see my face, but he thinks I’m smiling.”

Garik cackled. “Good work, man.”

Another fist bump.

“Now,” Garik said, “why did you know I could find my way down here?”

“I knew you’d want to examine Misty Banner’s body. You didn’t get a good look when you found her, and everybody in the building heard you yelled at Foster for sloppy police work.” Mike grabbed a flashlight off his desk. “Sorry about the gloom. Half the fluorescent tubes broke, replacements, too, and anyway, no one’s going to give me more power than they have to. Autopsies are not priority after an emergency like this. Everybody figures if someone died, it was the fault of the earthquake. Usually it is.” He walked over to one of the drawers and pulled it open. “By the way, Foster told me not to let you down here.”

“So you’re going to break the rules?” Garik had forgotten how much he liked Mike.

“I don’t work for Foster.” Mike flipped back the sterile sheet. With a wave, he indicated the decomposing body of Misty Banner. “No matter how beautiful a person is in life, everyone ends like this.”

“Every coroner I’ve ever met is a philosopher.” Garik walked around the body, trying to reconstruct Misty as she had been the day she died.

“Coroners spend a lot of time alone, except for—” Mike indicated the drawers. “Anyway, that’s the full extent of my philosophy.”

“Come to think of it, that’s the same thing I always hear.” The body bore the thin markings of a well-wielded scalpel. “You already did the autopsy?”

“A coroner doesn’t get a famous corpse like this on the table often. Besides, it had to be done quickly. Out of the ground, she’s going to decompose rapidly.”

“Tell me what you found out.”

Mike clicked on the flashlight and used it to illuminate the pale, intact stretches of skin on her face, belly, and legs. “First—no way is she as decomposed as she would be if she’d been buried in the dirt, so she’s been in a container of some kind.”

“A coffin.” Garik thought out loud. “The killer took her to the prostitutes’ cemetery, dug up and dumped one of the other bodies, placed Misty inside, and buried her. Then the tsunami struck, lifting coffins, opening them, and spreading the contents up and down the canyon. First Elizabeth found a bone from one of the nineteenth-century prostitutes … then she found the corpse of her own mother.”

“Good theory. A coffin would have protected Misty Banner. The killer didn’t kill her with the first blow.” With the flashlight, Mike showed Garik the flesh peeling back from her ribs. “The bones here show skid marks where he slashed at her. The ribs at the back show the same slashing, but more powerfully—he was above her, while she was on her hands and knees, trying to crawl away. There’s a chip off her jawbone, right here on her left side.”

Garik examined every site Mike indicated, and leaned closer to see the knick on her jawbone. “Was all the violence done with scissors?”

“I think so.”

Garik looked up at Mike in surprise. “You think so?”

“Don’t give me any shit, Garik.” Mike pointed to a pile of twisted metal and broken glass swept into the corner. “During the earthquake, my one puny piece of cool autopsy equipment jumped off the table and onto the floor. But your intrepid coroner got out his good ol’ magnifying glass and examined the evidence on Misty Banner’s body, and noted that there are double scrapes on the bones.”

“The tips of scissors.”

“Yep. Banner was in a rage. Which I suppose makes sense when you think that his wife was cheating on him.” Mike viewed the body with mingled disfavor and pity.

“Hm.” It was so logical. Charles seemed very pleasant, but the blow to his pride and his manhood must have hurt. Garik liked his theory that her lover was the killer, but why would her lover turn on her so violently?… Unless she had threatened something …

To end the relationship? To reveal it?

He asked, “Which was the death blow?”

Mike shone his flashlight at her throat. “Here. Look at the larynx. The bones are shattered, broken, completely ripped open. He slashed, and slashed again, long after she was dead.”

“She said something he didn’t like.”

“I think we can assume that—probably that she didn’t love him anymore and she was running away with her lover.”

“So he came at her in a rage, grabbed the scissors, and stabbed her in the ribs.” Garik enacted the scene. “She went down, tried to crawl away. He stuck her in the back. She fell. He turned her over and ripped out her throat, nicking her jawbone at some point.”