Skeleton's Key (Delta Crossroads Trilogy, Book 2) (15 page)

Cage grinned. “We can rule you out. That’s about it.”

“What?” Dani laughed. “I’ve talked to the secretary over the phone. She’s a grandmother with arthritis. The researcher is female, too, and she’s not exactly the picture of health. I have a hard time believing she’d be capable of luring and killing two grown men.”

“Probably not, but there is always an exception. I know the vice president. He’s old money and uses his connections to help with funding. But he’s physically capable. So is Lee Walker.”

“You said yourself Lee was a good man.”

“Far as I know, he is,” Cage said. “But people aren’t always what they seem. God knows I’ve learned that the hard way. Using your theory, Lee and everyone with access to the house are persons of interest. Add on inside knowledge about the locks or the building plans, and a person moves up on the list. And pretty much everyone in town knows about the supposed Ironwood hidden treasure.”

“My theory is just that–a theory.”

“And one that has some plausibility. It’s an angle that has to be looked at.”

“But what if it’s some transient, and the police go accusing innocent people?”

“No one’s accusing anybody. Gina Barnes will run a good investigation. She’s fair. And the likelihood of this being some random stranger is slim. There are too many little things that add up to a big steaming pile of shit.”

“You’re Landers’s number one suspect. Hopefully he can broaden his mind.”

Her faith in his innocence meant more than it should, considering they’d only known each other for twenty-four hours. The melancholy cloud following Cage over the past few years weakened, and looking at Dani created an unfamiliar lightness. It was a feeling he could get used to.

“Like I said, Gina will run a good investigation. She won’t work with blinders on.”

Dani finished the rest of her water. She ran her index finger around the edge of her cup, the creases between her eyes deepening.

“What is it?” Cage asked.

“What about the bones? I know the anthropology students are going to look at them, but who the hell knows when they’ll get to it.”

“At least someone is examing them. They could be shelved altogether,” Cage said. “You have to understand, a lot of Mississippi is poor. We’ve got lots of little towns and village that don’t have anyone qualified in death investigation. So most autopsies get sent to the medical examiner’s office in Jackson. They can’t keep up. It sucks, but if those bones aren’t recent, the M.E. just doesn’t have the time.”

“So they’ll just be forgotten. Again.”

“Dani, who knows who those bones could belong to? And maybe the students will find something. Those kids are hungry for cases.”

“What if they’re John James Laurent’s? What if the stories are true?”

“Oh, Jesus.” Cage rolled his eyes. “Leave it to Jaymee to fill your head with that nonsense.”

“How is it nonsense?”

“The idea of some secret room is one thing. But for old CaryAnne to have a psycho moment and keep daddy’s corpse is straight out of lousy pulp fiction. Especially when you consider that comes from a nasty, unsubstantiated rumor.”

“Sexual abuse was just as common then as it is now.”

“But there’s no proof. Just talk that’s nearly 100 years old.”

“Forget about that part,” Dani said. “John James was all CaryAnne had, right? Family was everything to her. Then he dies, leaving her alone and devastated. Is it so hard to believe she could have snapped and wanted to hang on to his physical remains? That she saw them as all she had left?”

They stared at one another, the pain bright in Dani’s eyes. Cage knew that pain. It burned the stomach lining, ate up the esophagus, and scrambled the brain. He’d rather suffer himself than see Dani fighting it.

“It does get easier, you know.”

She waved her trembling hand. “Please don’t console me–it’s not right. After the way you lost your sister, my mother’s death seems like a blessing.”

He laid his fingers over her balled up fist. She tensed but didn’t move. “Loss is loss, Dani. Doesn’t matter how people leave this world. Letting go is still hard as hell.”

Her eyes were wet. “Sometimes I miss my mom so much I can barely breathe.”

“And all you want to do is climb into bed and stay there.”

“Then maybe it will all be a dream.” Her tears spilled over.

“There’s nothing I can say that you haven’t heard,” Cage said. “Nothing that won’t make you want to tell me off. Just know that I understand. And you’re not alone in your pain. The worst part is when I see my parents. And sometimes…” He remembered the disappointment in his father’s face and felt his own twist into a scowl. “Lana was their favorite.”

“I doubt that.”

“She really was,” Cage said. “Don’t get me wrong–my parents were good to me. But Lana did everything first, and I could never quite match her.” His sister had been the star child and content to bend to her parents’ demands of success. Cage did everything he could to follow her example but had never been able to completely emerge from her shadow.

“Is that why you became a cop? To stand out from her?”

A bitter sigh escaped before he could stop it. “No. I wanted to go to Ole Miss, too. Maybe go into law. But when Lana went off to college, my parents were so depressed, especially Dad. And when it became clear she wasn’t moving back home after graduation, it got worse. I couldn’t leave them, too. Being a cop is one of the few ways to make a living here.”

“So you stayed here out of duty.” Dani’s fist relaxed. She wrapped her small fingers around his. “Believe me, I understand that. But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you did.”

A moment passed between them, hot as fire. Dani’s always rosy cheeks turned a deeper red, and for the second time that morning, her body leaned into his personal space. His breath hitched, and the sound seemed to break her trance. Cage nodded and put his hand back in his lap.

Dani wiped her tears, cleared her throat. “I need to make sure the skeleton isn’t forgotten. So I’m going to see if I can’t find out who those bones might belong to.”

“You do that,” Cage said. “Can’t hurt.”

“And I’m going to see if I can’t get the original blueprints for the house. I have reproductions from the historical foundation that were drawn up when they purchased Ironwood. Maybe there will be a clue to the secret room on the originals.”

“If it exists.”

“It does.”

“You were the little kid who played in the closets and cubbyholes in your house, weren’t you?”

Dani smiled. “Maybe.” She looked past Cage. “Here comes Gina.”

Cage put on his best smile as he rolled down the window. “Hello, Captain.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Gina steamed.

“I’m not on the property. And Dani and I were just chatting. She is my employer, after all.”

“Cut the shit.”

“Fine. Dani, tell her about the historical connection.”

Gina listened to the theory with a raised eyebrow. “Your only proof is these nonexistent locks and keys. And a gut feeling?”

“It’s an angle that makes sense,” Cage said. “Especially if the victims were digging for Ironwood gold.”

“Noted. And it will be looked into.”

“Killer is probably local,” Cage said. “Knowledge of the area.”

“Cage.”

“Come on. Off the damned record, Gina. You know I didn’t do this. What have you got?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do not breathe a word of this conversation, either one of you. We think he killed them in the pantry and used the old stairway as basement access. There is some possible trace evidence being collected. Landers is going to be searching the rest of the house, and Dani, you’ll need to shadow him. I’m going to round up available patrol officers and search the abandoned buildings within a 25-mile radius. We could be looking at more victims, and if they’re out there, they could give us an idea if the killer is still hanging around or moved on.

“We don’t have any local married men missing, which means these two were from out of town. For all we know, he sees himself as some vigilante type and has attacked other people who’ve illegally explored abandoned property. If that’s even what our vics were doing. Killer could have planted those things himself and is waylaying business travelers all over the country. We’ve got to look for other bodies.”

“They’re not out there,” Cage said. “He chose Ironwood for a reason. And if they were tearing apart the house looking for stuff to salvage, they might have been competition for him.”

“What about tourists?” Dani asked. “Wouldn’t they be easy targets?”

“Bad targets,” Gina said. “Tourist goes missing, that makes the local news.”

“Okay, so the victims weren’t likely tourists.” Dani said. “But how did the killer move around unnoticed?” Dani asked.

“Before Cage started taking care of this place, it was pretty dark and desolate. Off the radar. Kids were run out of here for partying or ghost hunting now and then. We’ve got to assume our guy used Ironwood because it was conveniently abandoned and then moved on when Cage showed up. Which means there could be more bodies.”

“Gina, I think you’re not looking at this the right way,” Cage said.

“Good thing I’m the investigator, and you’re the patrol officer,” she snapped. “Not to mention technically still a suspect. Get out of here, Cage. And if I catch you interfering, you’ll have more than murder charges to worry about. Dani, Landers needs you in the house.”

Gina strode off.

Dani sighed. “Great. An afternoon with the sweating bulldog and his nasty attitude.”

“At least you get to hang around.”

“What are you going to do?”

He gave her a sly smile. “A little investigating of my own.”

T
he Adams County
Historical Foundation sat at the northern edge of Roselea in a restored three-story home that served as a hospital during the Civil War. Although Natchez, Roselea’s neighbor down the road, had its own historic foundation, the Adams County branch provided assistance to both cities and dedicated itself to the restoration of the many historical sites in the county.

Cage parked his truck in a visitor’s spot and hurried up the walk. The brick path matched the exterior of the house, laid in a diagonal pattern and slightly uneven from the settling earth. He kept his head down to make sure he didn’t catch his foot and end up face first and missing a tooth. The front porch resembled something out of a brochure: clean, white columns, hanging planters stocked with brightly blooming annuals, and a set of wicker furniture for guests to rest on.

Inside, he was greeted by a welcoming rush of cool air, with some sort of floral air freshener muting the scent of history. The house’s receiving room had been turned into a visitor check-in, and Cage smiled at the woman behind the desk.

“Heather, it’s good to see you.” Heather Cathrall was the foundation’s secretary and apparently, the greeter for today. She lived a few blocks down from Cage’s parents and often came over for late afternoon tea with his mother.

“Cage!” Heather came around the desk to give him a hug. “I haven’t seen you at the folks in a while. But I heard about the news at Ironwood. Lee said it’s awful.”

Lee shouldn’t have said a damned thing even if the local gossip was buzzing, Cage wanted to say. Instead, he nodded. “It really is. Of course, you know anything Lee might tell you about what’s going on over there should stay quiet. Captain Barnes is trying to keep a lid on the situation.”

“Of course, of course.” Heather fished out a piece of candy from the jar on her desk and offered it to Cage, then grabbed one for herself. “So what brings you here today? I have a feeling it’s not just to see me.”

“You caught me. I’m actually hoping to talk to Lee. I’ve got a few questions to ask him about Ironwood. Is he in?”

“Sure is.” Heather motioned to the door behind her. “He’s in his office. You know where it’s at. Go on. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Cage thanked her and promised to stop by Heather’s for a visit soon. He made his way down the familiar hallway, a cramped place no more than two feet wide. Déjà vu rolled over him.

A few months ago, Cage spent a lot of time at the foundation with Lee trying to save the Semple farm–the property bordering Ironwood and one of the most historically significant properties in the county–from foreclosure. They’d almost succeeded until damned Yankee-based Norton Investments swooped in at the last second, thanks to a local turned money-grubbing betrayer. The disloyalty had shocked Cage, and he’d made an ass out of himself on the front steps of the historical building. Lee Walker’s brute strength had likely kept Cage out of jail that night. Lee was certainly physically capable of hurting another man.

Whether or not he was morally capable was another story. A couple of months ago, Cage would have said it was impossible. But that was before he found out who murdered his sister. Truth is, with the right motive, anyone could become a killer.

Lee’s office was a favorite of Cage’s. Once the family study, the room served as the doctors’ private quarters during the war. Lee devoted an entire wall to the artifacts from those times, including many of the doctors’ instruments and even a few trinkets from soldiers who had passed on the property. Lee himself had restored both the room and the artifacts, and with the possible exception of Grace, no one knew more about Roselea’s historic past than he did.

As usual, the room was tidy, and the door open. Lee sat behind his desk, glasses perched on his nose as he examined what looked like an 1800s revolver. The silver had darkened to a charcoal gray and the wooden handle had a long splinter, but the gun appeared intact.

“Now that is impressive.”

Lee looked up in surprise. “Cage. Good to see you, and yes, it is.”

“How old?”

Lee turned the gun upside down and pointed to the barely discernible print. “Patented in 1859.”

“So it likely went through the war.”

“I’m sure of it. It’s been fired, but unfortunately isn’t in working condition. Belonged to the owner’s great-great-grandfather, who served in the Mississippi infantry. She just wanted to get an idea of value and of the cost to repair it.”