Her grandfather stilled. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” He looked away.
Kerry moved from the chair to the sofa, and Buster snuggled next to her. “Time out. You’ve been pushing for the reunion since I came here. What are you hiding?” Kerry didn’t like the idea of seeing her sister again, but Grandpa apparently had a different reason for not wanting her to come.
He ran his gnarled fingers along the front cover of the ragged magazine. “I, ah, probably should have told you this a long time ago, but when Susan lived here, she had a boyfriend who abused her.” His eyes watered.
“Abused her?” Guilt waved its ugly head, followed by a rush of anger. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“She wasn’t proud of how she’d handled Brad. Actually, she left Tampa because of him. Had to run away in fact and disappear for good. Even I don’t know where she went. She uses a pre-pay phone card when she calls so it can’t be traced.”
The horror of the situation took Kerry’s breath away. “Was he that bad?”
“She never gave me any details. I’m sure she has a lot more to tell you.”
“What else?” He dropped the magazine on the table and looked away. “Oh, no you don’t. You can’t drop the bomb then not tell me.”
“It’s Susan’s story to tell.” He eased off the sofa. “Let’s go for a walk, Buster.”
Damn him. She hated when he clammed up. It wouldn’t do any good to question him though. The man could keep a secret better than an angry pit bull could hold onto its victim.
Kerry didn’t have the luxury of a relaxing weekend. The clock was ticking. She needed to identify the three women and the infant, make more reconstructions, find little oddities in their bones that would help her find out who they were, and learn how they’d died.
She’d arrived at the lab over an hour ago but had managed to place only a few markers on #3’s skull. Her mind still reeled from what Grandpa had told her about her sister. My God. What if Brad had hurt Susan enough to kill her? Her sister could have been one of these women.
Kerry couldn’t image the horror of someone knocking on her door and telling her Susan was dead. Kerry shivered and forced herself to get to work. Wouldn’t Hunter be pissed she’d driven herself to work instead of him chauffeuring her? Grandpa didn’t want to sit in the lab all day, especially on a Saturday when the place was dead—no pun intended. She had no choice but to come alone. Hunter would yell and complain about her being careless and not following his directive, but too damn bad.
If he found out, he’d repeat the litany about how she needed to make sure she checked the back seat of her car before getting in, locked her car doors before she started the engine, and not to become distracted when she went from the parking lot to the office across the street.
He acted as though she’d come from the boonies. Okay, maybe she had at one time in her life, but she’d lived several years in Baton Rouge and that was no small town.
When her phone rang, she shuffled through her purse to find her cell, and then checked the display. Gotta love caller ID. “Hi, Hunter. What’s up?” Please don’t let him ask where I am.
“I’ve been doing research on Janet Kopetski.”
“Find anything out?”
“Seems she was a model prisoner. The bonds desk where she worked told me she was a top-notch investor. I also spoke with two of her coworkers and neither one even knew she was married.”
He gathered some amazing information for a weekend. The man must have major contacts. “Abuse is not only terrible but embarrassing. I can see why she kept quiet about her ex.”
“You haven’t figured anything else out about the case, have you?”
She stilled. Did he know she was at work? “No, but you’ll be the first to know when I do.”
“Okay, I’ll see you Monday morning.”
The moment the connection died, disappointment hit. She’d wanted to ask him how he was holding up, if he was sleeping okay, and eating enough—like everyday conversation between two people who cared.
Kerry moved back to the half done skull, and a renewed sense of anticipation and energy filled her. Talking with Hunter helped center her attention on these women, in part because he was a non-stop whirlwind of information and in part because his passion for justice was infectious.
She’d wondered more than once when he had time for his six-year old daughter. With his wife dead, she imagined taking care of the little girl was doubly hard.
Kerry pushed aside the thoughts of the dedicated man and returned to work on #3’s face. She didn’t want to let Hunter or the families down.
Discovering patterns drove Kerry to work harder. She’d loved puzzles as a child and became a whiz at cryptograms and crosswords by the age of fourteen. When Sudoku came on the scene, she knew she couldn’t even try one for fear she’d get nothing done once she started to arrange the numbers.
These four women were a puzzle in their own right. If she studied them enough, she might learn how their deaths were connected.
Kerry measured and cut more clay strips that would give life to #3. Hunter’s partner was working on the theory that an undertaker had dumped the bodies. She admitted these women could have been runaways, like Janet Kopetski. Janet’s dad hadn’t spoken to her for quite a while before she died. Perhaps phone calls went unanswered when the undertaker tried to contact the families, and not wanting to foot the bill for the burial, decided on dumping rather than burying. It was far-fetched, but not outside the realm of possibility.
Kerry finished gluing the markers on the skull before placing the first piece of clay on #3’s forehead.
“Dr. H?”
She jerked at the voice. A young man stood at her door staring at the floor. He worked at the ME’s office. What was his name?
“Yes?”
He waited a moment. “I’m Dr. A’s autopsy tech, Steven.” He made eye contact, something he hadn’t done before.
Her shoulders relaxed. “Ah, yes. I’m sorry. You helped with the infant we brought in a couple of days ago.”
“Uh, huh. I, ah, wanted to see if you needed anything.” His grin had a boyish charm.
“Actually, yes. Do you know if Dr. A is around?” John Ahern’s nickname sounded funny, but then again, so did Dr. H.
“He just left. He has the Monday to Friday shift. He only came in today because he had some paperwork to do. I don’t think he knew you were here or he would have stopped by.”
She wished he had. Kerry enjoyed this short interruption in her day but couldn’t for the life of her figure out the point of the visit. Certainly, he wasn’t flirting with her. He was a good five years younger than her.
“I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and then smiled. Cute guy, but not her type. He was too GQ. An image of Hunter flashed in her mind. She liked his more serious attitude toward life.
“Well, take care. And be safe,” he added as he slipped out.
Hell, maybe he was a friendly guy who wanted to welcome the newcomer. But why the shy act when she first encountered him? She shrugged and returned to work reconstructing #3.
Two hours later, hunger stopped forward progress. She needed food bad. Those who were working today had probably already eaten. Hunter warned her to stay in the building. Walking downtown alone to catch a bite would really piss him off, so why tempt fate?
On the other hand, there was no reason why she couldn’t work from home. No one would bother her at Grandpa’s, and the thought of the leftover chicken Parmesan Grandpa had fixed made her stomach grumble.
She packed up her gear and placed the skull in a cushioned box. She was glad to be leaving the cold morgue and returning to the comfort of her home, or rather Grandpa’s house. The longer she stayed there, the more she believed this was where she belonged.
On her way out she called Hunter. Shielding her eyes against the bright sunlight, she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the Medical Examiner’s building.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“I’m about to go out.” Technically not a lie.