“I want to take her back to Natchez.”
Carl says nothing for a few seconds. Then he says, “I don’t figure the local law would look too lenient on that. But if that’s what you want . . . then say the word. We’ll put her on a gurney and roll her down to the chopper and fly her back home.”
As insane as this would be, it’s what I want. Though Natchez was never really Caitlin’s home, taking her back would spare her the impersonal butchering that awaits her here—at least for a little while. Her father and mother might be able to see her as she is now, tranquil and relatively whole.
“I’m afraid you can’t do that,” says a deep voice from behind us.
I turn. Behind us stands a man in his sixties, wearing the uniform of the Louisiana State Police. The sight of that uniform sends me into a rage. Blood pounds in my ears, and I surge toward the stranger, but Carl hooks his muscular arms beneath mine and locks his hands behind my neck.
“Easy, Penn! Easy now! Listen to what the man’s saying.”
“He’s one of Knox’s people!”
The newcomer holds up both hands and shakes his head. Then he steps closer, apparently confident that Carl can restrain me. The old trooper’s eyes look more sad than angry or gloating, and his voice communicates empathy when he speaks.
“Mayor Cage, my name is Griffith Mackiever. I understand why you’re angry, so I’m going to tell you something that’s not to leave this room. A long time ago, I used to be a Texas Ranger. And I’ve been in contact with Captain Walt Garrity for the past two days. I’m also in contact with Sheriff Walker Dennis. We’re all trying to work together to handle the shitstorm that Forrest Knox and his people have unleashed in this state. Forrest does work for my agency, yes, but I’ve been investigating him for some time, and I am most assuredly not one of his people. In fact, he’s trying to destroy me as we speak.”
Mackiever pauses, as if to ensure that what he’s saying is sinking in. Apparently satisfied, he continues. “This is a tragic thing that’s happened, and it’s not the only murder of the day.”
His words are registering about the same emotional response as if he’d told me a dump truck ran over an armadillo on the highway.
“I’m still trying to ascertain what happened out in the swamp,” Mackiever goes on, “and I’d like to speak to you for a few minutes before the media descends on this hospital. If you’re up to it, that is. Now, obviously Ms. Masters is going to have to remain here for the time being. There’ll have to be a postmortem, as you know.”
“She died in Mississippi,” I say flatly. “They can do the autopsy there.”
Mackiever gives Carl a worried look, as though he’s uncertain of my sanity. “She was declared dead in Louisiana, Mr. Cage. That puts the autopsy here.”
I say nothing.
“I think you can let the mayor go, Officer,” Mackiever tells Carl.
“You okay?” Carl murmurs in my ear.
“Yeah.”
Carl lets me go, and my hands tingle and ache as the blood flows back into them.
“The FBI is about to pour massive resources into Lusahatcha County,” Mackiever informs us. “Agent Kaiser has already dispatched Bureau choppers from New Orleans to secure that Bone Tree and whatever was inside it. Apparently your fiancée uncovered a trove of bones and other evidence that could solve up to a dozen murders.”
“Then you don’t need me.”
“Mayor Cage—”
“Please don’t call me that.” With careful movements, I pick the sheet up off the floor and lay it over Caitlin’s body, leaving only her face exposed.
“Mr. Cage, I think you’d better come with me,” Mackiever says gently. “Pay your last respects, and then meet me outside in the hall.”
The colonel nods once, then leaves the way he came.
“I know it doesn’t make you feel any better,” Carl says, “but Caitlin did find what she was looking for, and I know she’d be proud she did.”
“Proud?” I echo. “Yes, she would have been proud. And for what?”
“For the families, man. All those boys that got killed, and the families that suffered. They can finally have some peace.”
I look back and find his earnest eyes. “Is that why she did it, Carl?”
The young ex-marine shrugs awkwardly. “I think so, yeah. She wanted to do good.”
A strange laugh comes from my throat. If only Carl had known her as I did.
“Well,” he says. “You knew her a lot better than me. All I know is, she was the prettiest woman I’ve seen in a long time. She still is, even now. Ain’t she? Even lying there now.”
I turn back to the table. “Yes. She is that.”
Taking two short steps forward, I lean over and kiss her forehead. She’s not as cold as stone, not yet, but the skin beneath my lips sends a shudder of revulsion down my back. The woman I loved is no longer present. Death has taken her, and it mocks me now from within her. The tears I leave upon her face might as well have fallen on the floor. When at last I turn and walk from the room, part of me is as dead as she is.
CHAPTER 74