Page 56 of The Lost Bones
“Like we said before, your friends all arrived at your house in cars registered to that company,” Nick said.
“Coincidence.” The archaic-looking landline on the desk rang. Hamilton picked it up. “Hello? Yes… okay… I’ll get on it. Give me a minute.” He hung up. “Look, that company provides good cars. One person must have recommended it to the rest. That’s how these things go. But like I said before, feel free to take your argument to another judge. And if you want the names of everyone in our gentlemen’s club, get a warrant. Now, if you’ll excuse me, you can see yourselves out.”
Mackenzie’s stare remained pinned at Hamilton, who opened some documents, ignoring her completely. She followed Nick out of the apartment, clicking the door shut behind them.
“Is it just me, or did Hamilton sort of make sense?” Nick said as they headed down to the car. “I mean, think about it. The killer is obsessed with you. Something tells me they’re not some sixty-year-old man playing poker.”
Before Mackenzie could manage a response, her phone rang. It was Becky.
“Hey, Becky, are you done with the autopsy?”
“I am. You and Nick need to come down here right away. I found something inside Debbie’s stomach.”
THIRTY
Becky held up an evidence bag containing a small black disk covered in reddish juices. Mackenzie brought her face close and peered at it.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a memory card,” Becky said. “I know keto diet is all the rage these days, but it doesn’t involve eating memory cards. Please take this.”
Nick grabbed the bag. “Clint will know how to clean it up. Can’t wait to see his face when he sees it. Do you have anything else?”
They were in Becky’s office, which was next to the room where she cut open dead bodies. Despite the labs being renovated, the offices and hallways were still squalid, with yellow walls, as if the building was permanently jaundiced. Behind her, books were spilling out of shelves and her framed certificates hung crookedly.
“Cause of death was a gunshot to the chest.” Becky showed them a picture of the bullet wound in Debbie’s ribcage. “A .38.”
“That’s different from Courtney,” Mackenzie mused. “She was jabbed in the brain through the ear.”
“And Sophie was strangled,” Nick added.
“Our latest victim was tortured too.” Becky displayed two pictures of Debbie’s body. The first showed purple marks criss-crossing her bare back. “She was flogged.” The second was a view of her mouth, opened with gloved hands, her tongue outstretched with forceps. The tip was missing. “Her tongue was cut. Blood aspiration there tells us that this was done while she was still alive.”
Mackenzie’s gut felt hot, like it had been torched with gasoline. She squirmed in the chair, fighting a wave of nausea.
My gift to you, Mack.
“They’re escalating.” Nick played with his lighter. “Courtney was killed immediately. But Debbie was kept alive and tortured.”
“Debbie had been badmouthing me lately. I bet in the killer’s twisted mind they thought the punishment should fit the crime.”
“I’ve bagged everything else and sent it to Anthony. This is all I could get from her,” Becky said with pity swimming in her eyes. “Mack, I’m sorry.”
“Everyone should play nice with me now.” The words poured out of her. “Otherwise, one more body for you to cut open.”
A part of her felt like a sullen child throwing a tantrum. But there was a stinging truth to the words she spewed. The killer was still out there, getting bolder. And Mackenzie was a police officer who had plenty of enemies for them to pick next.
“Close your eyes,” Andrew instructed.
Mackenzie did as she was told, welcoming the blackness. Sully had taken one look at her after she’d found out Debbie’s fate and sent her to Andrew for a session. To ensure them privacy, he had lent them his office while he attended a meeting.
“What do you think they look like?” Andrew asked in that therapist tone she had come to identify. A cross between curious and mollifying.
“Who?”
“The person who is hurting those who hurt you.”
She dug her nails into her palms. “You mean themurderer.”
