The Haunted Bones (7 page)

I pulled her back. "This isn't a legitimate
crime scene and it's owned by the bank. We can't go destroying
property without permission. And this place has an interested
buyer. We're just here to observe."

She gave me a disgusted look. "Jim never
said you were a stickler for the rules."

"Well, that's because I used to not be." I
helped her up, and we stood and faced the shelves. "He was always
the one to rein me in." Except that night when he ran into that
warehouse. "But why?"

"Why what?"

Oh crap. I said that with my outside voice.
"I was thinking of Jim that night at the warehouse. I remember
getting there after him and he was already…dead. But what I don't
know is why. He was such a damn asshole about following the rules,
and he knew in a hostage situation we were supposed to wait for
backup. If he knew Llse had been taken, then he would have called
and waited. But he didn't."

She was watching me intently, her eyes wide.
"You remember anything else?"

"Not yet." I moved over to
look at the antique mirror. "But I think I will. Eventually. Jimmy
always looked at the
why
when we worked a case. Motive was his big thing
because without motive, it never makes sense. And it has to make
sense."

"I don't think murder ever makes sense."

"It does." I reached out to touch the
mirror. "Let's take this case—this Birch guy killing his wife, the
girl next door, and himself. We've already seen by looking at the
photos that the way it was written up can't be the way it happened,
and it didn't make sense. Why kill them? Two defenseless women? The
ferocity used to kill the two of them is usually only present in a
crime of passion. This guy was angry. I mean, he was pissed off." I
looked at her. "Why? I can't find any motive in the files. No
infidelity, no mention of tax evasion, no embezzlement. Why kill
these two women?"

Jewels lifted her shoulders in a shrug.
"Like I said, it doesn't always make sense."

"It makes sense if you put a fourth person
in. Someone else who was mad and took it out on them. If it was
Cahan, the only reason I can come up with is he discovered
something. Something his daughter did."

She put her hand on my arm. "His daughter
was seeing Mr. Birch!"

"Maybe." I redirected my attention back to
the mirror. It was loose and moved a small bit back and forth. Six
tiny screws held it in place against dry wall. I reached up and
twisted one of the arms to the side, then methodically, with my
other hand bracing the mirror, moved all of them. The mirror came
forward in my hands so I lifted it out and set it carefully on the
bar.

"Holy hell."

I turned to see a shit-load of black mold on
the wall behind it. But what had Jewels's eye and mine was a
plastic bag smashed against the corroded drywall. "Let me get
pictures of this with you standing there. We need to do this by the
book, okay?"

I grabbed my tablet.

Jewels frowned at me. "You're gonna take
shots with that?"

"Yeah. I don't want to go and look for my
camera, and I didn't really prepare to do this." I held the device
up so I could actually record her lifting the bag out of the
drywall. "Is that…is that a hole?"

She nodded, stuck her gloved hand into it,
and patted something. "Sure is. And guess what…this is brick back
here, not cinder block. This wall's out of code."

Brick? I knew what the two materials felt
like, and I had touched cinder block under the bar.

Jewels pulled her penlight out and shined it
inside. "There's a hole on the other side as well."

"You mean to the adjoining store?"

"Looks like it."

I continued to record as she placed the bag
on the bar and pulled the contents out. It was a diary of some
sort, and a collection of letters and notes stuffed in the back. I
recognized the type of diary because I'd bought Pink of one of them
a few years back before she decided being pretty was a lie made up
by the cosmetic industry to sell more products.

Jewels opened the diary and started
reading.

"'January
12
^th
.
I've decided I'm not going to tell him. There's just no way he'd
understand and I don't want to hurt him. And yet every day I pray
to God to forgive me for my sins. I can't believe He would allow us
to love so deeply and yet condemn such a love to die in the fires
of perdition. I can't stand the thought of giving her up, and yet
everyday I refuse to look into the mirror because I am ashamed at
what I've done.'"

"Who is that?"

"It's just signed with initials. B.C." She
pulled the top letter out from the back and carefully opened it.
"'My dearest B., it's getting harder to see you every day and not
be able to hold you, or assure you life will get better. Your
father is a monster and he should be stopped. You must go to the
police and tell them what he does to you. He killed your mother,
and now he's going to kill you. Please, let someone know. I love
you, B.C.'" She stuck the letter back into the diary and the diary
back into the bag. "I need to get this into an evidence bag."

I followed her with the camera so as to keep
flow. She pulled a red-stripped plastic bag from her purse and
sealed the top. She pulled a pen out of her pocket, signed the bag,
dated it, and wrote down the location. With one hand I grabbed her
purse and my bag and followed her to the parked
black-and-white.

The officer immediately got out of his car
and opened his trunk. Jewels handed the bag to the officer and he
signed the bag and put it in his trunk. "Get that to Captain Vale
as soon as you can. Hand it directly to him."

We stood just outside The Alley Haunt as the
car pulled away. That's when I noticed a blue sedan easing its way
down the street. Jewels brushed past me to head back into the
building as the car came closer. I could see their face as they
suddenly accelerated—only it wasn't a face. It was a mask like the
ones I'd seen in New Orleans at Mardi Gras. Then he reached his arm
out of the driver's side window…

And fired a gun.

Ten

She sat in her rental and watched the blue
sedan cruise by and shoot at McNally and his lady cop friend. Yes,
it was something she had dreamed of doing, but she wasn't stupid.
She had planned on getting rid of them and putting an end to his
snooping in the old bar, but she made calls to learn how to do it
quietly.

So…who the hell was this?

The second the sedan sped off and the two
people stopped moving, she pulled out and headed in the opposite
direction. Was this a hit? Did someone want McNally dead as much as
she did? Or was it the little cop? She glanced in her rearview
mirror as two police cars raced past her, lights flashing. That was
fast, but they had probably been close by to begin with. She didn't
speed. She didn't panic—or at least she didn't on the outside.

Instead she pulled her car
over and got out to join the other gawkers as they rushed back
toward
The Alley Haunt
to see what the commotion was all about. An ambulance arrived
a few minutes after she did, but she couldn't see what happened.
Did the shooter get him? Did they hit the girl?

Too many people and more
cops arriving. And there came the news crew. Great. This was
just…great. More attention on
The Alley
Haunt
. This was everything she didn't want
to happen. Another ambulance could be heard in the distance, coming
closer. Two? Were they were both hit?

As the EMTs hustled people out of the way,
she got a glimpse of the front step. They had the girl on the
stretcher and McNally was on the other side, surrounded by a few
cops. As the second ambulance pulled in, the crowd parted to allow
the new EMTs to drag another stretcher to the curb.

People were talking and yelling around
her.

"I seen him, officers! It was a white
guy!"

"No, it was one of them gang things. Drive
by shootin'."

"Naw, man, I seen the dude. He had on a
hoodie and a mask. I was standing down the street. Saw 'em when
they stepped out."

She focused on the last voice and saw an
older gentleman with weathered skin and thinning gray hair talking
to a plainclothes detective. The detective was taking notes.

"You saw the victims when they stepped out
of the building?"

"Yeah, officer. They handed something off to
another cop and when he drove off…" The older man turned and
pointed back down the street. "This blue car eased up and looked at
them. Aimed a gun at them. The tall guy yelled something and dove
at the little lady."

So McNally had seen the shooter and tried to
duck. Was he successful? No one was talking about their condition.
The other ambulance cranked up and honked, signaling people out of
the way. So the girl was being taken away. She noticed the name
across the side of the ambulance and then made sure they were from
the same place.

Piedmont Hospital.

"…some weird mask with lots of gold on it.
Yeah, it was a gold mask."

Her ears perked up and she snapped her
attention back to the old guy and the cop. Gold mask?

Only one shooter she knew wore a gold
mask.

Black Angel.

The news crews had their cameras out. Time
for her to go. If there was one thing she didn't want, it was to
have her face plastered all over the media.

Once in her car, she locked the doors and
dialed Auggie. He answered on the third ring but she cut him off.
"I thought you said Black Angel couldn't take my job."

"Well, yeah, that's what his representative
told me. Why?"

"Because he just tried to take out McNally
in a public place."

Auggie didn't answer right away. He put her
on hold, which just infuriated her even more. She was about to
throw the phone again when he came back on. "That wasn't Black
Angel. I just got a call from the rep. Said he's over there now,
watching."

"Angel's rep is here?" She looked around the
car—front, sides, and behind her. "Where?"

"I don't know. And you wouldn't recognize
him, either. No one sees either of them."

She sank down in the seat. "Damn masked
marauders. You'd think they were anime villains or something. So if
it wasn't Angel, then who the hell was shooting at McNally?" Her
afterthought included the small cop.

"I don't know. Maybe he's got more enemies
than just you." Auggie chuckled. "What's your beef with this guy,
anyway?"

"He's nosy."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. So remember that, Auggie. I don't
like people being nosy."

"Right." He disconnected.

She lowered the phone and
looked around as the second ambulance, carrying McNally, drove by.
Once the people disappeared and the traffic straightened out, she
drove by
The Alley Haunt
. Police tape covered the entrance now and two uniformed
officers stood outside.

How could things get any worse?

Eleven

I stood outside the hospital's triage. No,
strike that—I paced outside. I was waiting on Jewels, my own
shoulder stitched and bandaged. I had seen the gunman in time to
shout out a warning to Jewels, then reached out to her to grab her
with the intent of taking us both straight down and out of this
guy's line of sight.

It was one hell of a time to have a
blackout.

"McNally!"

Vale came striding down the hallway. He was
dressed in a dark suit and a determined expression.

"Sir, did you get the bag?"

"Yes, it's on it's way to the GBI." He
looked at my shoulder in its sling, the bandage hid under my shirt,
though the blood and hole were still there. "Is it bad?"

"Through and through. Good thing I'm thin.
They dug the slug out of the door frame."

His gray eyes met mine. "Tell me what
happened."

I went over what we did, how we were looking
at the bar and found the diary and letters behind the bar mirror.
"The officer had just taken the evidence when I saw the sedan.
Buick, maybe a 1999 model. Dark blue. I saw the driver level a gun
out of the driver's side window and when I turned to pull Julie
down with me, he fired." I looked away. "They said I landed on her.
Hard."

"Devan." When he used my name it made me
nervous. "You have been shot in the head in the line of duty. And
you survived. Don't think for one second that kind of experience
isn't going to leave scars you won't ever get over. Understand? You
passed out. Your mind took over and took you out of danger.
Brenner's a fine cop and a strong woman."

A young man in a long coat stepped out of
the curtain. "Ah, Captain Vale."

"Dr. Longmire. How's Julie Brenner?"

"She's good. Just a slight fracture to her
left wrist. A couple of bruises and a scraped knee. She'll be with
you shortly." He turned to me. "You should thank her for breaking
your fall." With that he turned and headed back between the
curtains.

"The guy's an ass but a fine doc." Vale put
a hand on my shoulder and guided me away from the front of triage.
"You have any idea whose diary it was?"

"Yeah, I do. Anyone dusting behind the
mirror?"

"CSI is there now, going back over it. And
don't think I didn't get an earful from the director since they
already went over that place nearly two years ago."

"I think you'll find prints from Birch's
wife, Randall Cahan, and Cahan's daughter."

"Oh?"

"I think Birch's wife and Cahan's daughter
were having an affair and Cahan found out. I think he confronted
them and Birch tried to stop him. Check for police reports of
domestic violence for the Cahans. I think he killed all three and
set up Birch to take the fall."