Bones Of Contention: The McKinnon Legends - The American Men Book 3 (6 page)

She was dead. However, dead men can and do tell tales if someone would only listen. Would anyone be there to listen? Would her angel listen and avenge her?

No, wait. Something was not right, she thought, her mind returning by slow degrees. She was not dead. She was alive. But how could that be, she wondered? She had seen and felt her last horrifying moments of life and felt the terror of death and dying. She had walked into the light and into waiting arms of comfort and support.

Slowly she was coming out of it. Josh was there holding her, her life support. Then she knew what had happened. She remembered agreeing to help him.

She was still alive. The victim was not, having died horribly. She had suffered right along with her.

“Oh, Josh, it was horrible!” she cried, coming back to the here and now. Jamie threw her arms around Josh's neck for support.

Crushing her to him and asking forgiveness, Josh would not soon forget these last thirty seconds. In less than half a minute, she had changed his life, and he had changed hers forever.

She had become the victim -- feeling and seeing all.

Jamie looked down into the box.

From its upright position, the skull looked back at her with empty eye sockets as if daring her to look again through the eyes of the damned.

Effortlessly, Josh picked her up and laid her down on the sofa just about the time Campus Safety authorities burst through her office doorway.

“I’ve got this one, Guys,” he said just before standing up.

“Afternoon, Sheriff. She all right?” the oldest of the three asked with genuine concern.

“She's a little shaken.” Josh offered no more information than this, not surprised at his feeling the need to protect her.

“Has the Doc been touching the bones again?” He did not wait for an answer. “You know, I was here the first time she did that. Not something you will soon forget, I’ll wager. I know I haven’t.” Charlie offered up in empathy to both of them.

“No. At least not any time soon,” Josh agreed wondering how often she put herself out there for the sake of a victim she never even knew. He realized, just a little too late, how much it took from her. It told him a lot about this woman playfully called
Doc Bonz
.

“I thought she learned her lesson,” the older gentleman said sympathetically.

“Next time I bet she uses thicker gloves,” laughing, one of the younger men commented, earning him a scathing look from both Josh and the older policeman.

“You will show more respect for her, Cadet Lomax.” Charlie was angry, but no where close to the anger the sheriff was feeling.

“Get them out of here.” Josh’s command left none in doubt he was to be obeyed posthaste and without question.

The older policeman commanded the other cadets accompanying him to make themselves useful and go back to the building entrance to check for parking violations. There was no back-talk as the two young men made quick work of exiting Jamie’s office, for they both understood they had crossed some imaginary line. They were just grateful Josh let them go without much more than a tongue-lashing.

“Well, Sheriff, if you have this in hand then I’ll bid you a good afternoon.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” Jamie said weakly from the sofa. “I’m good. I just need to stay here for a few moments.”

“All right, Ma’am. Sheriff McKinnon, may I have a word with you?” Charlie gestured him over.

He waited for Josh to come over by the door and lowered his voice so Jamie could not hear. “I don’t know what your intentions toward the Doc are, but you better take good care of her. Understand where I’m coming from, Son?” He let the question hang.

Josh agreed, fully understanding this thinly veiled threat was more fatherly than professional.

“She’s very special in my book,” Charlie commented earnestly.

“Yes, Sir. I understand.” Josh could not agree more with his opinion of Dr. Jamie Gillman. She was unique.

“Good, because if you hurt her, Son, your jurisdiction won’t mean squat around these parts.”

Josh watched as Charlie closed the office door before he spoke again.

“Doc, are you really all right?” Concerned, Josh squatted down beside the sofa.

“No, but just give me a minute. My head is still spinning, and I think I need to throw up.” She pinched her eyes shut praying she did not lose the lunch she had eaten earlier. Now that would be embarrassing, she thought.

“Take whatever time you need,” he said as he pulled the trashcan and a chair over by the sofa, taking her hand in his.

She could help Josh all right. She knew exactly who this woman used to be.

“Where did you finally find Debbie?” Jamie asked as she lay on the sofa, crossing her arm over her forehead to block out the blinding light piercing her eyes like knitting needles.

“You know her?” Now, this was a surprise, he thought, as he stood and turned off the overhead lights to help ease her discomfort.

“Yes, I knew her. Where did you discover her?” Jamie was unsure she really wanted to know.

“Straddling the Dawson/Martin County line.”

“Was that all there was?” she asked pointing at the box still resting on her desk.

“No.”

“Did you find all of her?” she asked, knowing if he said yes it would be a lie. There was one piece missing if they found the rest of her.

He hesitated. “I’m not sure you are up for a game of twenty questions, Jamie.” He was not about to tell her more at this point.

“Did you or did you not find all of her?” she asked just a little more assertively.

He hesitated. “Yes and No. The killer pulled out all of her teeth, which we feel was to hamper her identification.”

“And?” She knew he was withholding.

“Jamie. No.” What was she doing, he wondered? Did she know something and was just fishing for confirmation?

“And?” She was not taking no for an answer.

“Fine. I’ll play it your way," Josh said with a heavy sigh. "There was one other piece unaccounted for when we found her. That is all I can divulge.” He skipped past the details. This little bit of information was all he would release given it was a current and ongoing investigation. Besides, she was upset enough as it was and he was not going to add any more to her anxiety.

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Josh, for being honest with me. It is important for me to know you trust me.”

Josh waited, giving her space and time to assimilate the images. He could only imagine those were traumatic at the very least.

“Take your time, but when you feel up to it, tell me what you saw. I won’t push, so only if you are up to it,” he gently coaxed.

Regardless of the fact that everything inside him was screaming to save her the trauma of opening up, he was first and foremost an instrument of the law. His duty was to follow through, regardless of how he felt as a man. He needed what knowledge she possessed. His personal feelings were secondary. So were hers.

He never could have prepared for the information she gleaned from that single instantaneous touch. It was beyond his scope of understanding, yet he did not have to understand how it was possible, just that it was possible.

“Our girl’s name is Deborah Jo Williams. She went by DJ. She was my roommate in college. DJ's parents live in Dallas now.”

“Hold that thought while I make a call.” He patted her hand with a promise to be right back.

Josh called in the identity of the body, requesting DNA be collected from the girl’s family as dental records were useless. That done, he returned to Jamie's side.

“What else do you know? Can you tell me anything else?” He wondered at the coincidence of the connection between his victim and the doctor.

“She went missing more than five years ago one night on her way to work. The last I saw of her was as she left the apartment for work. Her car was in the shop, so to keep her from having to walk or take the bus, I loaned her my car. They never found either one until now. My car is still AWOL. There were eyewitness accounts of seeing a tow truck come and take the car. That part never made sense to me until now. I saw him pull her into a dark blue van. He did not leave in my car.”

“He must have come back for the car later in order to buy him time. If your car was found still in the parking lot, you would have alerted the authorities much sooner. Any leads on that tow truck?” he wondered, thinking the killer had some brass balls to have the car removed after he took his victim.

“No, I was dead to the world and never heard the truck, so I was not any help.”

According to the police records the authorities located the tow company, but the driver was told to drop the car off at a predetermined spot by AAA. The driver never saw who hired him or who picked up the car later, and the investigation showed that the AAA card number used was reported stolen shortly after. There was no trail to who masterminded the whole thing. Her car had not been seen since.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I had no idea this would be so personal for you.”

Josh saw the crystal tears falling from the corner of her closed eyes. Reaching out, he caught one on the tip of his middle finger just before it slipped past her cheek. He rubbed the warm liquid between his fingers, letting it soak into his skin.

Her breathing was better, Josh noted.

“I have always had this overwhelming guilt that somehow her disappearance was my fault,” she spoke the confession aloud. Somehow, she knew he would not condemn her or call her feelings unwarranted.

She often wondered if maybe it was a case of mistaken identity, like it should have been her instead of Debbie.

“What would make you say that?” he asked, probing any lead he might be able to get from her. Aside from Debbie’s killer, Jamie was, as far as he knew, the last person to see her roommate alive.

“We looked eerily alike. Go look for yourself. Her picture is on the board behind my desk.”

He rose to retrieve the photo. The resemblance was more than striking. They could have passed for fraternal twins, right down to the unusual necklace she was wearing. Debbie had on one just like it.

In the days leading up to Debbie’s disappearance, Jamie had a feeling of being watched, but could never see a pattern or the same person around. Campus Safety and the city police blew her off. She chalked it up to her last semester finals and doctorate thesis being due.

“I thought it was all just getting to me. The fact she was in my car has always weighted heavily on me. Why did he come back for it....” her question trailed.

“Often they come back to the scene of their handiwork, or maybe there was something in it he wanted. Likely it was just to buy him time,” Josh reasoned having seen it before in his days on the Miami force.

The tears were coming in earnest now. Josh let them flow as he handed her his handkerchief. She was his witness and as much as he might want to hold her and tell her it would be all right, he couldn’t. It would be a lie. The cold reality was it would never be the same for her. He understood that from the death of his wife. Life goes on, but it is just never the same.

“You are feeling survivor’s guilt.” He was no therapist, but that much he recognized.

“Maybe,” she answered after a long pause.

“It is not uncommon, Jamie, but it is not your fault. And no one would ever think so either. It is unfortunate, but we both understand these things sometime happen. Still, it doesn’t make it easier when it hits this close to home,” he said sympathetically brushing her hair away from her face.

She did understand. They were just not supposed to happen to her or to the people she loved. “I’m glad we finally found her body, and as hard as it is to say, at least we know her fate.”

“I’m just grateful it wasn’t you.” He raised her hand to his lips subconsciously.

“But it should be me.” Jamie swung her legs over the side of the sofa and tried to stand.

Automatically, he stood bringing her into his arms in a fluid movement.

Josh implicitly recognized her reactions were born of her grief.

He held her gently. McKinnon men were big men capable of serious bodily damage even by accident. Therefore, the women who were within their scope of responsibility were treated with the utmost respect. Manhandling was not an option unless drastic measures were necessary, and then those measures were used only to prevent her from harming herself or another. That was McKinnon Family Law. It was his personal law. If his first wife had not driven him to violence and abuse, no one ever could.

“It should have been me, Josh,” she repeated convinced more than ever.

“Don’t ever say that, Jamie. We don’t know for sure.”

He tried to sit her down. She wasn’t going to relax any longer. He could feel her tension.

“Yes, we do know, Sheriff. He is going to eventually kill me. If he figures out he missed, then I’m dead.”

“Then he is in for a big surprise because he will have to come through me first.”

She placed a warning hand on his arm. “No, Josh. This is not your fight. I’m not worth protecting at the cost of innocent lives. I have always taken care of myself.”

Josh went still and quiet. His ancient McKinnon blood began to run cold through his veins, an instinctive reaction handed down genetically through generations of warriors and Knights of the Realm. Confrontation always brought it out in him, leaving him completely objective. He became a machine overlooking nothing, giving him a competitive edge over his emotional counterparts. Yet, somehow this felt different. His emotions were still running high. It was never a good thing for any McKinnon man to be in combat mode and still be emotionally charged.

He vowed he would keep her alive if it was the last act of law enforcement he ever did. He knew his first wife had lived a dangerous life, yet he never felt like this with her. This was something different where Dr. Gillman was concerned. However, he did not have the time or inclination to dissect it while standing in the middle of her office.

“You leave it to me to decide if it is my fight or not. And I choose to make this, make you, my fight. The minute I walked through your door it became my fight, Doc, and you are worth it, never doubt it. I can clearly see the kind of woman you are. You are bright and beautiful and worth the fight. You make a difference every time you slip on that lab coat, and just like every time I put on this uniform, it matters. It matters to me, and it matters to you that we leave our mark on this world. So like it or not, you have your own warrior at your beck and call.”