Page 3 of The Lost Bones
Panting, she played with her keys as she jogged across to her house. She paused in front of the door and looked at her hands. Trails of blue veins ran down the backs. The street was deadly silent. The only sound was the silver plumes hissing out of her mouth. Even the hum of traffic and the chirping of birds were missing.
It was like she had stepped into a void. A little tear in the fabric of the normal world, where she was alone. The prickle came back to her. The one she hadn’t felt in weeks. Like she was being watched.
She spun on her heel on a whim.
Nobody was within sight. So why did she feel like prey?
Shaking away the bad thoughts, she was about to unlock the front door when she realized that the trunk of her car parked in the driveway was slightly open. She frowned. Had she forgotten to shut it properly after taking out her gym bag yesterday?
She pushed it down with force, but something got in the way. She was mildly distracted, not really paying attention, but when she opened it, she went completely still, every muscle frozen and locked.
There was a dead woman lying inside the trunk of her car.
TWO
Mackenzie stumbled back, tripped, and fell on the concrete with a loud thud. The silence was punctured by her labored breathing. The woman’s skin was clammy and almost transparent. Her light hair darkened at the tips. Her lips were blue and slightly parted. She lay on a brown blanket soaked in some liquid. But all Mackenzie could focus on were the eyes. Those arctic eyes that looked like glistening marbles. She could almost see her own reflection staring back at her.
The woman looked like a mannequin. A carefully crafted doll. Both beautiful and plastic.
Mackenzie was drawn to her. She stood up again and drifted closer. Recognition had finally dawned on her following the initial shock. Her fingers extended forward, almost trembling. The moment they brushed her cold cheek, a shudder ran through her. She gasped and stepped back, reality setting in.
“Fuck.” She looked around the empty street. But now she heard the sounds. Sprinklers turning on. Birds chirping. The world was waking up. Quickly she pushed down the tailgate to hide the body and looked around.
She couldn’t see anybody. But was somebody watching her?
Fear filled her, making the hair on her arms stand upright. A cold chill enveloped her that had nothing to do with the weather. She told herself she was out in the open in daylight. She was a trained police officer. But this feeling was something else. Something she couldn’t put a finger on.
Dazed, she called a number.
“This better be an emergency. It’s not even seven,” Nick grumbled on the line.
“I…” Her tongue was heavy, like a chunk of iron. “I… There…”
“Mack?” Concern colored his tone.
She swallowed hard. “There’s a body in the trunk of my car.”
“What?”
“It’s Sophie, Nick… Someone left her body for me.”
“Stay there,” he instructed, and hung up.
This was a crime scene now. Mackenzie scoped around. Someone had broken the lock of the tailgate, but the rest of the car looked untouched. The windows and doors sealed closed. No scratches or smudges. She pressed into the ground and looked under the car, then closely inspected the asphalt and gravel. Nothing was left behind. Whoever had put the body there hadn’t dropped anything. Had anyone seen them? Were there any witnesses?
It wasn’t long before the faint sound of sirens grew louder and louder. She hugged her chest, standing next to the car, finally registering the foul odor permeating the air nearby. Her neighbor, Mrs. McNeill, an old, stout woman who was sharp as a tack, came out into the yard to water her plants.
“Morning, Mackenzie!” she yelled in her cheerful voice.
Mackenzie’s smile was watery. Timidly she raised a hand and gave a small wave. As Mrs. McNeill plodded forward, ready to make small talk, her face became marred with confusion. A string of cars came around the corner. A police squad escorting the coroner’s van and the crime-scene unit. Behind them was a black SUV. They clogged the street, stopping in front of Mackenzie’s house and drawing attention from the neighbors, who spilled out of their homes to see what the early-morning commotion was about.
Nick parked the car haphazardly and leapt out, still tying his tie. A young officer came to Mackenzie in uniform, clearing his throat. “Ma’am, I have to take your statement.”
She saw his name. Jenkins. He was new, as was evident from the way he blinked nervously. Behind him she saw another uniform unroll the crime-scene tape and coordinate with Anthony from the crime lab to decide the perimeter. Becky Sullivan, the medical examiner, along with her team were all wearing protective gear.
“Detective Price?” Jenkins said. She blinked at him, struggling to find the words.
“I’ll take it from here.” Nick came up. “Go canvass the neighborhood.”
