Part 18 (1/2)

”Front plate's missing,” Arliss said.

”So is the rear,” Watermeier told him.

”You suppose it's stolen?” Charlie asked.

”Better give the boys a call to bring out a mobile unit.” Henry walked around to the front, trying to get a look inside through the demolished winds.h.i.+eld.

”Sheriff.”

O'Dell was still at the back of the car, waiting for him. When he walked around she pointed to the trunk, where a small piece of fabric had gotten caught and was sticking out.

”s.h.i.+t!” he mumbled, and felt the tightening in his chest. ”Charlie, reach in there and pop the trunk, and try not to touch too much.”

When no one moved, Henry looked up to find his two deputies and the tow truck operator staring at the trunk of the car.

”Charlie,” Henry said again.

This time the deputy obeyed, but when the trunk snapped open Henry found himself wondering, once again, why the h.e.l.l he hadn't retired six months ago.

He pushed the trunk wide-open and everyone remained motionless, wordless as they stared at the small body of a woman curled up inside. Henry noticed immediately that her wrists weren't bound. Neither were her ankles. But then there was no need. The back of the head faced them, a mess of blood and tangled hair where she had suffered what had to be a deathblow. It had cracked her skull open, an impact of force that seemed overkill for such a small woman.

”You suppose it's her?” he asked O'Dell.

”Hard to tell. All I have is a photo. The head wound definitely looks familiar.”

”Yeah, that's what I was thinking.” Henry swiped at his eyes. Jesus! They hadn't fished all his victims out of the barrels yet and here was another one. ”Arliss, call Carl and have him bring the mobile crime lab. And Dr. Stolz, too.”

”I think they're probably out at the rock quarry, sir.”

”I know where they probably are. Call them and tell them to get their a.s.ses over here.”

”Sir? You want me to tell them that exactly?”

Henry wanted to throttle the kid. Instead he said, ”Charlie, would you-”

”I've got it taken care of, Sheriff.”

Henry noticed O'Dell just standing there, staring as if she couldn't believe it, yet she was the one who suggested he search the area. He moved in for a closer look, leaning into the trunk and under the lid without touching anything. He examined the area around the woman for signs of anything that may have been left. Anything to tell them whether or not this was the missing Joan Begley. Maybe he even hoped the weapon accidently got tossed in or dropped inside. But there was nothing. From this angle he could see the side of her face and there was something familiar about her. Yeah, she looked familiar but he hadn't seen O'Dell's photo of Begley.

He gently touched the woman's shoulder, moving her only slightly to get a better view. But what he saw made him jerk away.

”Holy c.r.a.p!” He bashed his head on the lid of the trunk. He stumbled backward, slipping and almost losing his balance. Almost falling down.

The others stared at the back of the woman again, trying to see what had spooked him.

”It's that TV reporter,” he said, out of breath and hating that his chest felt like it would explode. ”That one who's been following me around everywhere.”

”What are you talking about?” O'Dell said, stepping in closer to the trunk but waiting for him.

He rolled his shoulders and brushed his hands on the sides of his trousers as if to prepare himself. Then he leaned into the trunk as little as was necessary. He hesitated for only a second before he laid his hand on her shoulder again.

”He took her f.u.c.king eyes,” he said, moving her enough for them to see her face. Just enough for them to see the hollow sockets where her blue eyes had once been.

CHAPTER 57.

Maggie could hear her cell phone beep, warning her that the battery was low and reminding her that she had forgotten to charge it last night.

”Tully, I'm probably going to lose you pretty soon, so give me the bottom line. Were you able to find out anything by going through Sonny's e-mails?”

”He talks about getting sick a lot as a kid and his mother giving him medicine that only made it worse. Dr. Patterson suggested-okay now, this could be a long shot, but I think I agree with her-that he may have been the victim of Munchausen's syndrome by proxy. Are you familiar with that?”

”You think his mother purposely made him sick so that she could get attention?”

”Yes, exactly. Dr. Patterson is talking with the local hospital. She's hoping her credentials might get someone to check hospital records for maybe five to ten years ago.”

”Could you check another name for me? Jacob Marley. See what you can find on him.”

”Jacob Marley?”

”Yes, he's the funeral director. I think Joan Begley had pizza with him the night she was taken. It may have been exactly like he told me, a business dinner to wrap up funeral details, but when I visited him yesterday he seemed nervous and guilty about something. And he's a Junior who hates to be called Junior.”

”If he's the funeral director he would have had access to Steve Earlman's embalmed body.”

”Yes, he seemed too prepared to talk about that. But he doesn't fit the killer's profile. And now you're telling me I need to be looking for a hypochondriac who's also a paranoid delusional maniac because his mother made him sick on purpose? That should be easy to spot.”

”Very funny, O'Dell. I'm trying to help you.”

”I know you are. Sorry. It's just frustrating.” She slowed the car, taking on more winding curves. ”We just found another body.”

”Oh, jeez. Do you know if it's Begley?”

”No, it isn't her. It may have been her rent-a-car. They're still checking it out. It was a local reporter with bad eyes.”

”Let me guess, he took the eyes?”

”Yes. And he stuffed her in the trunk of a car. I worried that he might do this. He probably got paranoid that she was following him, but according to Watermeier she's been at the rock quarry every day and hounding him. him.”

Her cell phone beeped again.