Lullaby for the Nameless (12 page)

It wasn’t hard to tell who Rick was. He had a stocky Labrador by the collar with his left hand, and with his right he had a firm grip on his shotgun.

The other two men were park rangers. One had deep lines in his weather-worn skin and a weight in his gaze. The younger man had a wide-eyed look. While his partner carried a solemn burden in his bearing that made Ashlyn think if he’d had a hat he would have taken it off out of respect, the younger man bristled with an energy that reminded her of her nieces and nephews on Christmas morning. He was curious.

Neither spoke, but the older man nodded toward a hump of earth approximately half a dozen feet away,

Nolan walked toward the disturbed dirt and then stopped, still as a statue. From where Ashlyn stood, she couldn’t see anything, and when she glanced at the rangers, the older man had turned his gaze toward the ground. The younger man glanced at her, then his partner, then looked away. The only one who didn’t avert his gaze was Rick. His expression betrayed nothing, but his eyes were black as a moonless night and had a magnetic pull that kept her staring back for a moment before she looked away.

After a glance at the officer who’d escorted them to the scene, who was also focused on the ground, Ashlyn moved beside Nolan.

God.

She was glad she had her back to the men so that they couldn’t see the look on her face.

Nolan turned back to the group. “Who else has seen this?”

Silence.

“Getz?”

“Okay, first things first. Rick, you’ll have to give a proper statement. Constable Getz can take you back to the station and get that down on paper. I want you to tell him everything. If you saw a scrap of fabric on a branch two miles from here, you be sure to mention it and draw me a map. I know you’re capable.”

Rick nodded.

“Did your dog have any contact with the corpse?”

“Yes.” The voice was unexpectedly soft and soothing.

“Then we may need to take some samples. If we try to identify suspects based on animal fur found on the victims we want to be sure it’s from the killer’s dog and not yours.”

“You saying this is a murder?” A different voice. Ashlyn could guess which of the men had spoken. The high-pitched tinge of excitement betrayed the younger one, but despite her desire to glare at him, she still didn’t trust herself to turn around. She’d found a place on the ground, to the right and up from the open grave, where she could stare while she forced herself to take deep breaths.

“How good a look did you take, Gordy?”

“I…I didn’t. I just saw the pit and was about to step forward, but he stopped—” Said with a tinge of defensiveness. As though he was trying to prove he was manly enough to handle it. That he hadn’t held back out of fear.

“Good,” Nolan said. “Walk over to that tree and stay there. Henry?”

The voice of the older ranger matched the deep lines in his skin that hinted at years of working in the sun. It had a weathered tone and was filled with the weight of experience. “I saw.”

“Right. Go stand by that tree and wait for me.”

Ashlyn turned as Nolan slid something into his pocket and walked away from Rick. He went to the older ranger, Henry, first. She could only see Nolan’s back, and after a few minutes he slid something out of his pocket, but it was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand and she couldn’t make out what it was.

Should she be doing something?

She glanced at the officer—Getz—and he quickly looked away. Whatever Nolan was doing, Ashlyn felt certain he’d resent any attempt on her part to get involved.

After a few minutes, Nolan turned and walked toward Gordy. He went through the same process of slipping something out of his pocket. Ashlyn still couldn’t make out what it was, but she had a better view and this time saw Gordy step back for a moment and bend down before straightening up. Nolan seemed to stare at the ground before looking up at Gordy and nodding as he slipped the object back into his pocket.

Gordy bent down again, then stood. They appeared to talk in low voices for a few more minutes before Nolan turned and led Gordy back to where Officer Getz stood.

He turned to Henry. “You’ll both have to go with Getz as well, and wait at the station. We’ll need to take shoe impressions.” He looked at the uniformed officer. “Getz, get photos and make a list of everything they’re wearing. And if I find out that any of you said anything about what you’ve seen here, I’ll make sure you’re charged for interfering with a criminal investigation. Don’t even whisper it over your mother’s grave or tell a priest at confession. You tell no one. Clear?”

There were murmurs, followed by the sound of a twig snapping and bush pulling against fabric as the men moved away.

She took a breath. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to send them back?”

Nolan glared at her. “Take a look around. You think we’re just a few miles from the nearest CSI lab and Grissom’s going to show up with his little kit and get everything we need to find the killer? We aren’t equipped for this. The closest coroner’s office is a two-and-a-half-hour drive away.”

“We haven’t even identified her as one of our missing girls.”

“Which is hardly important at the moment,” Nolan snapped. “You think the press will care about that when they hear we’re starting to recover bodies only a few miles from where the task force is based? By this time tomorrow, we’ll need security just to get in and out of the station without being mobbed by reporters.”

“But if none of them talk…”

“Are you really that green? You think one of them has to talk for a reporter to break this story? Rick called the park rangers. They called the RCMP. The way the press has been all over this case lately, Sullivan isn’t taking any chances. He already called for a coroner to come to the scene. By this time tomorrow, the reporters may not know all the details, but they’ll know that there was a report of a body found in the woods.” Nolan glanced toward the unearthed grave. “I can live with that. I have to. But that’s what I want them to keep reporting. The longer we can keep the truth a secret, the better.”

“We’ve already been criticized for failure to act. When the press finds out what we’re holding back—”

A branch snapped a few feet down the trail they’d come up on. Ashlyn turned to see Tain approaching. He didn’t say anything but continued walking until he stood close to Ashlyn, his gaze fixed on Nolan.

She decided not to point out the technicality, that she had done some work in plainclothes before. Asserting that her previous work was a legitimate claim would convince him she wasn’t just green, she was an idiot. Deep down, she knew she’d been assigned over her head, but that wasn’t her fault. She wanted to work the case and to learn, but in a moment of frustration, her partner’s attitude had come shining through, and she knew she’d have to work twice as hard as anyone else assigned to the team just to hold her own.

Tain glanced at her before looking back at Nolan, his face was unreadable.

“Coroner’s on the way?” he asked.

Nolan nodded. “Sullivan called.” He looked at his watch. “About an hour ago now.”

“Right. You two can head back to the station.”

“We’ll handle it. If you think we don’t need all three of us here, you go back to the station.”

“I have my reasons for staying. You two can go.”

“So you can screw this up and make a mess of the scene?” Nolan said.

“How could I screw this up any more than you already have, Nolan? What happened to holding the witnesses here, taking the statements and getting the physical evidence? You sent them back. Getz had Rick and the dog, but those park rangers had to take their own vehicle. Plenty of time to get their stories straight, make a call on their cell phone, maybe even change their shoes. What the hell were you thinking?”

“So that makes your laziness okay?”

“It’s not me who’s lazy, Tain. I’m doing the best I can with a rookie for a partner, and every time I turn around you’re AWOL or up to some bullshit like this morning.”

Confirmation of what Ashlyn had suspected. Nolan had ditched her to keep an eye on Tain.

“You’re fighting the good fight against affirmative action,” Nolan said. “Deadweight in a uniform.”

Tain’s hands balled up into fists as he took a step forward. “You better watch your mouth, Nolan. You have no idea what you’re dealing with here.”

“And you do? Enlighten me. This ought to be good. You can’t be bothered reading the files, following up on leads, attending meetings or filing reports, but you’ve got some keen insight into the case.” It was Nolan’s turn to take a step toward Tain. “You’re useless.”

“Back off, Nolan. I’m warning you.”

“Or what?” Nolan’s mouth curled into a snarl. “You’re going to pin me up against a wall and give me a good talking to?”

“For once you have a good idea.”

“Stop it!” Ashlyn stepped between the two men. “This is a crime scene. What the hell is wrong with you two?”

For a moment the only sound she could hear was her heart hammering in her ears. Then the low whistle of soft wind cutting through the trees. Nolan’s jaw unclenched, and some of the color in his face faded.

Tain still bristled with anger, but he took a step back and turned away. That was when he took his first look at the grave and what was inside. The hostile posture gave way to a stoic stance.

She wasn’t sure she was ready for this.

“Shame we can’t do the same to you.” Tain turned to Sullivan. “He sent them from the scene. Three men and a dog, with one uniformed officer. Nolan didn’t follow procedure—”

Sullivan stopped him. “Sometimes we have to make the best out of the situation, Tain. These are hardly normal circumstances.”

“And not every constable is the son of a sergeant. Some of us have to do our jobs, not just show up.”

Nolan’s face reddened. “You’ve got some nerve, especially considering—”

Sullivan held up his hands. “If you’ve got a legitimate complaint, I’ll hear it, but it better be good.”

“Fresh reactions. No time to overthink the story or the details or start drawing conclusions. Procedure’s there for a reason. They should have been questioned by a member of the team, and considering the distance from the station, they should have been questioned here.”

Ashlyn looked away for a moment as she tapped her notebook against her hand. When she turned back, Nolan was looking at her.

She thought back and replayed what had happened before the witnesses left.

“They were.”

Sullivan looked up, and Tain spun around to face her.

“Nolan questioned them all, individually.”

Tain scowled. “And what did you do, take notes?”

Her chin jutted out. “Don’t make me the issue. The point is, they were questioned before they were sent back. Nolan also took a sample from the dog.”

Sullivan turned to look at Nolan. “Is that true?”

“Well, gee, I feel so much better now that you’ve vouched for him.”

Nolan stiffened. “It’s no secret we have a leak in the department—”

“Which is exactly why someone from the task force should have handled formal statements and collecting physical evidence. Every person outside the team who’s involved makes it harder to figure out who’s leaking what.”

“We know someone’s been feeding information to the Native leaders, Tain.”

“You better have some evidence to back that up before you make that kind of an accusation, Nolan.”

“Nobody can cover their tracks forever.”

“You sonofa—”

“Enough.” Sullivan’s voice carried the weight of authority, and both men fell silent.

The copied documents, the way Tain had reacted that morning…

Ashlyn hadn’t known someone was leaking information.

She glanced at Nolan, who was turning away, but as he did he saw her looking at him and stopped. For a few seconds they stared at each other until a shadow flickered across his face. His eyes hardened as he turned to look at Tain, but he said nothing.

If Nolan was thinking about the papers and her silence, it looked like he was going to keep it to himself.

“We have enough problems to deal with. What we don’t need is reckless accusations.” Sullivan glanced at Nolan. “Or renegade cops.” He glanced at Tain. “Put your personal differences aside, stop the bickering and bullshit, and get to work. Both of you. Understood?”

There was silence, neither man wanting to be the first to speak. Ashlyn hated pissing contests.