J. Margos - Shattered Image

“What makes you say that?”

“Because there was purpose in it. This one I think he took and reburied just because he was there. He went there for the victim we found this morning, but for some reason he just decided to take her, too, and be rid of her. He just couldn’t bring himself to dump her.”

“So, he buried her here and thought she’d wash away.”

Leo nodded. “Look at this place. The edge of it is soaked in water right now.”

Leo was wearing jeans and a lightweight sweatshirt, and sturdy hiking boots. The water lapped up against the edge of her right foot. The area where Addie had been buried was damp.

“The water has been up over this spot already,” Leo said. “They must have had more than one gate open last night.”

I nodded.

“How would the killer know to come exactly to this place?”

We both looked at each other. We stood in silence for a moment.

“So, what do you think the purpose was in exposing the victim we found this morning?”

“Don’t know, but it’s too obvious. That had to be his main purpose. When we find out who that victim is, we may be able to figure all this out. But this…I believe this was secondary.”

The water lapped up around Leo’s feet.

Leo broke the silence first. “So what’s up with your Vietnam case?”

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair.

“Tommy told me you went to Hawaii to start the work on the restoration of the MIA.”

“That’s right,” I said. “I’m still pretty jet-lagged, too.”

“So, how did it all go?”

“It was difficult. I handled the skull of someone I might have known over thirty years ago. I’ve never done a reconstruct on someone I knew, and I wouldn’t do one under any other circumstance. I’ve thought a lot about Ted lately, his last days, and about Jack.”

“I know you miss Jack. He was a cool guy.”

“Yeah, he was. Sometimes it’s hard for me to even realize that he’s not here anymore. If I think about it too much-remember him too well-it overwhelms me.”

“I understand that totally. It isn’t romantic for me, like it is for you, but I feel that same kind of awful reality when I think too much about Bobby.”

It was the first time since Bobby Driskill’s death I had heard Leo mention her brother by his name.

“When Bobby was alive, everything was different. In a way it was easier for me because he took care of everything, and I could just be the little sister. Pete tries, but he’s so laid-back, so different from Bobby-and that’s not a bad thing. Pete has to be Pete. I love him just like he is. It’s just that I have to be a grown-up now.” She smiled. “Pete barely qualifies as one.”

“Tommy is strong, though.”

“Tommy and I are still trying to rebuild what we had, and then move on from there. Trying to repair ourselves-individually and together. He just blamed himself so much when Bobby got shot. He still struggles with it. I can tell him it’s okay-and it is, as far as I’m concerned-but I can’t really help him because I still have my own grief. I think he misunderstands that sometimes. It has nothing to do with him, but I think he feels like it does.”

I nodded. This is why she doesn’t sleep, I thought.

“How often do you talk openly with him about it?” I asked.

“I guess not very often. We both work a lot. Our cases take so much of our time and energy. When I work with him on a case-like the warehouse fire-it’s difficult to do my job the way I know I need to and tend to his needs at the same time.”

“All the more reason to set aside time to be up front with him, Leo.”

“I know, Toni, but it’s easier for you than it is for me. That kind of directness is just part of your nature. I have to really work at it.”

I smiled and put my hand on her shoulder. “If there’s anything I can do to help…”

“Just talking to you helps.”

“Good,” I said. “That’s what friends are for. Now, what’s the latest on your warehouse fire?”

She smiled. “I brought that big fat liar in for questioning and spent hours just grilling him. The forensic shrink gave me some good tips on how to handle him. I Mirandized him first, he declined counsel, and another investigator and I went after him. We videotaped the whole thing from start to finish so nobody could say we didn’t do it right. Finally, the squatty-bodied little runt caved. He admitted the whole thing. He knew the type of accelerant used and everything.”

“Excellent!”

“Yeah.” She grinned, then her grin began to fade a bit. “Tommy was furious, though. He and Mike were sure the other guy was the one. I knew that my suspect was trying to make him look guilty. Anyway, I didn’t do it to make Tommy look bad. I discussed it with both of them before I went forward. I offered to let them participate, but they blew me off.”

“Well, then, let the chips fall where they may, Leo. My son and his partner are big boys. They made that decision and it turned out not to be a very good one. That’s not your fault. Nice work on your part. You stopped a pyromaniac and killer, and kept an innocent man from being falsely accused.”

“Yeah.” She grinned again now. “Not bad for a day’s work.”

I had started work on the CILHI bust. I had to document everything I was doing. That meant stopping frequently to photograph the progress, as well as keeping copious notes, all of which would be turned over to CILHI upon completion of the project.

Dr. Carroway had given me the gender, race and approximate age of the deceased. I could assume nothing about the victim before I began my reconstruct. I pulled the tissue-depth data from one of my charts and carefully measured and cut markers for each part of the face. This was the most painstaking part of the process for me. I worked on it for the bulk of the afternoon, but the fatigue from the trip to Hawaii caught up with me and I turned off the lights and closed the door to my studio at 4:00 p.m. I never close the door to my studio-or any other room in the house-but somehow it seemed like the thing to do this time.

I went in to the kitchen and made myself a cup of hot hibiscus tea. I took my tea back into the living room and sat looking out the French doors at the sights of oncoming spring. I went back in my mind to the first time I met Ted Nikolaides.

I hadn’t been in Da Nang for long, when my gregarious friend decided to come and meet the “new girl.” He came right into the ward where I worked and introduced himself. He saw I wasn’t wearing a wedding band and decided he would find me a man. I laughed at the time at this man so enthusiastic and determined in his old-country matchmaking. It soon became apparent that Ted Nikolaides had a special knack for the task. In the end, Ted had found the perfect man for me-a man who had become the love of my life and with whom I’d had my son. The problem I was having was that my blessings were so numerous and so very much the result of Teddy’s friendship and caring. It seemed incredible to me that this reconstruct would be the only way I would finally have to repay such a friend.

I left the living room and went to my bedroom closet. I got a stool and climbed up into the top and pulled down two big boxes. I took them into the living room and set them on the floor. Then I went into the kitchen and brewed more tea.

I brought my tea into the living room and sat down on the floor next to the boxes. I opened the lid on the first one and found in it Jack’s badge, his gun and his various citations. I had intended a thousand times to make a special case to display all these things, but somehow I had never gotten around to it.

When Jack had died so suddenly, I had been in shock. I boxed up everything that belonged to him and put it away. It seemed at the time that it was easier to deal with that way. In retrospect, I don’t know if it really was or not. I’m not sure anything really makes that kind of separation easier.