Part 18 (2/2)

”I'm going to lose you, Tully.”

”I'll call if I find anything on Marley. Oh, and I'll have Dr. Patterson call you if she finds anything out from the hospital.”

”The thing is it could take too long. If Joan Begley is still alive I have a feeling she won't be much longer. This last kill means he's getting panicky. And all we seem to have right now are too many missing imperfections, a whole lot of coincidences and some white, waxy paper from a butcher shop.”

”Butcher-block paper?”

”Yeah, I guess that's what it's called. I'm guessing he has tons of it and uses it to wrap and temporarily store the body pieces. I keep thinking it's got to mean something, but what? Any ideas?”

”I'm just wondering where you buy that stuff.”

”Well, not at the local Stop & Shop. We already checked.”

”Didn't you say Earlman was a butcher?”

”That's right.”

”Any sons?”

”No, I already thought of that. His shop closed when he died. Someone bought all the equipment but didn't continue the business.” She almost drove through a red light, braking hard and drawing a honk from the driver behind her. Why hadn't she thought about it before? Luc had said that someone bought all the equipment. ”Why would you buy all the equipment if you weren't going to have a butcher shop? Doesn't that seem a bit odd?”

”I don't know. You should see the crazy stuff people buy and sell on eBay all the time.”

”And how do you know what people buy and sell on eBay?” Another beep from her phone. ”My battery really is running low, Tully. Before I go, two things-how's Harvey? He's not driving you crazy, is he?”

”Not at all. In fact, I think you may have to bribe Emma in order to get him back.”

”Don't you dare let her get attached to my dog, Tully.”

”Might be too late.”

”Second, how's Gwen doing?”

There was silence and she thought she had already lost him when he finally said, ”I think she's doing okay.”

”Will you do a favor for me and please check on her?”

”Sure, I can do that.”

”Thanks, Tully, and tell Emma she does not get my dog.”

”O'Dell, one other thing.” This time she could hear his tone change. ”Cunningham asked me about you.”

Maggie felt her muscles tighten.

”He wanted to know if you mentioned anything to me about your vacation,” he continued, sounding serious, almost apologetic.

She knew Tully was a straight-shooter. He'd never lie, especially to Cunningham, and now, she had probably gotten both of them in trouble.

”What did you tell him?” she asked, gripping the steering wheel in preparation for his answer.

”I told him the truth, that you said something about daffodils.” Then he hung up before she had a chance to respond.

She smiled and pulled the car into a parking lot, trying to get her mind back on track and off a possible reprimand. Somewhere she had a city map, besides the one Tully had drawn for her. It was just a hunch, but then what else did she have to go on? She needed to find the county courthouse. She needed to find out who had bought all that butcher shop equipment, including what might have been rolls and rolls of butcher-block paper.

CHAPTER 58.

Henry started to head out to the rock quarry, had almost gotten there when he decided to go back to downtown Wallingford. He needed a strong cup of coffee, but mostly he just wanted to stop in at the bookstore and see his wife. After the media got hold of this latest development there was bound to be a frenzy, especially with the latest victim being one of their own. He was beginning to believe he and Rosie could kiss goodbye the idea of retiring in this community.

He took the back roads, winding around the edge of the city with the car window rolled down. He drove slowly, trying to suck in the fresh air, trying to relax enough so that the tight fist, that nagging ache in the middle of his chest, would let up. It'd serve him right for being so lax about taking-or rather not taking-his blood pressure medicine. Here he had escaped being with his buddies on 9/11 only to get a f.u.c.king heart attack while driving through the Connecticut countryside.

He drove by St. Francis Cemetery, curving around the hill, when he noticed a man hurry behind one of the tall headstones. At first he thought he had imagined it. Maybe he was was having a heart attack. But that didn't make you see things, did it? having a heart attack. But that didn't make you see things, did it?

Henry pulled into the cemetery's entrance and stopped the car. From this angle he couldn't see the headstone without getting out. He sat there, wondering again if he had imagined it. If someone was in the cemetery there wasn't anything wrong with that. People were free to come in and often did to place wreaths and flowers on the graves. So there was no reason to hide.

He backed out and pulled onto the road. Rosie would laugh at him, not about forgetting his blood pressure medicine, but about seeing ghosts. He glanced up in the rearview mirror as he started around another curve. Just as the cemetery started to disappear out of view he saw the man again. This time Henry pulled the car off to the side of the road, out of view of the cemetery.

He left the car and backtracked down through the ditch, keeping himself out of sight while he took the long way around. The cemetery backed onto a forest, and Henry could see a pickup parked deep between the trees where he knew there wasn't a road.

Henry climbed up a steep incline, hoping it would hide him until he got to the trees. The mud and rock kept crumbling beneath his boots and he thought for sure the guy would hear him. Finally a windbreak of spindly evergreens allowed him his first look.

The man had his back to Henry, but he could see the guy had a shovel and was digging. Okay, so he was a grave digger. But then why did he hide when a car came by? And did they use shovels anymore to dig graves? Hadn't he seen earth-digging equipment out here before? One of those miniature things with the claw? Yeah, he was sure that's how they did it. In fact, he thought Vargus and Hobbs had a contract with several of the funeral homes.

Henry moved closer to get a better look. That's when he realized the guy wasn't digging a new grave, he was digging one up. Just then the man turned enough that Henry recognized him. It was Wally Hobbs, and he was hurrying away to crouch down behind a tall headstone as another car drove by.

CHAPTER 59.

Luc hadn't left the house all morning. Not even to get the newspaper. Ever since Agent O'Dell had left he had been pacing, trying to watch TV while he walked back and forth from one window to another with the baseball bat never leaving his hand. Sc.r.a.pple had given up on him hours ago, finally settling down on his favorite rug. Except for a few ear perks now and then, the terrier was fast asleep.

Luc kept hearing vehicles up on Whippoorwill Drive. Maybe there was more commotion happening down at the rock quarry. He thought he had heard sirens earlier. On the midday local news there was mention of a car being found in Hubbard Park, but that was in Meriden, not down the lane. He wasn't about to leave the house to go see. Ordinarily they wouldn't be able to keep him away. But today...today he couldn't seem to set foot on his porch without getting the shakes. Is this what he was turning into? An old man who couldn't leave his house and then couldn't even remember whether or not he had?

Agent O'Dell had asked him this morning if he would please consider calling Julia to let her know that he was okay. But if his daughter didn't know about this mess, she wouldn't need to know that he was okay. Or so went his reasoning. He knew he needed to call her. He wanted to call her. Ever since he had talked to her...jeez, what day was that? Was it a few days ago or had it been weeks?

He heard another car, only this one sounded like it was in his driveway. By the time he got to the door, Agent O'Dell was coming up the front porch. He opened the door for her and felt a flush of embarra.s.sment when she saw the bat still in his hands.

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