Page 67 of The Lost Bones
“And it’s random,” she continued. “No regular pattern except for the cause of death. We are working on identifying the victims based on facial reconstruction and DNA analysis. Will take some time.”
Mackenzie read through the bullet points she had jotted down. “So for the last forty years, young women who had died from STDs and tetanus were buried there? Tombstone has been a dumping ground this entire time?”
“No wonder that place gives everyone the creeps.” Sully shivered slightly. “It’s cursed.”
After Becky hung up, the three of them sat in knee-deep silence. None of them knew what to say. The elephant in the room was the big secret that had just been revealed to them. A shame so horrific that it made Mackenzie question if there was any good in Lakemore at all, or if that was just wishful thinking. Every time she thought she had reached the town’s rotten core, there was something worse hidden under another layer.
Maybe evil was like an uncontrolled infection. It was everywhere. Just some parts manifested more symptoms than others.
“That old lady, Mallory.” Sully broke the silence. “She told me that the woman I was looking for was long gone.” He stared into empty space. “How it wasn’t the right time.”
Mackenzie remembered what Mallory had said to her.
We’ve been waiting a long time. This land can’t handle any more spilled blood.
It all made sense now. Her chest pinched as she realized that at the heart of all the fiction surrounding Tombstone lay something truly tragic. That the ghosts roaming those woods weren’t looking for prey; they were lost souls waiting for justice.
THIRTY-FIVE
Following the chilling revelation of the truth behind that clearing at Tombstone, Mackenzie decided to try her luck again with Nick.
“I could go behind your back and ask your father for this favor myself. Hamilton will definitely tell him when they’re meeting next, eager to get a senator in the fold.” She wheeled into his cubicle after getting off another call regarding Sterling’s disappearance. The caller had suggested that they’d seen him eating lobster at a restaurant. But Sterling was allergic to lobster. Still, Mackenzie had dispatched a deputy to ask around at the restaurant just in case.
“Whoever took those pictures of that clearing must have known the significance of it,” Nick thought aloud, ignoring Mackenzie’s threat. “Do you think it’s possible that the memory stick belonged to Debbie herself? That it was on her when she was abducted and she swallowed it before she was killed so that the story she was trying to break made it out.”
“We went through her hard drive, her phone, and her files. She wasn’t working on anything remotely related to Tombstone.” Mackenzie pulled out Lysol wipes from her desk and began cleaning the walls of Nick’s cubicle to center herself. “And don’t tell me you think it’s another coincidence that the mass grave is in the same neighborhood as Hamilton’s house, where Tag went and King of the Road drops off its clients.”
He moved out of her way so that she could get to the back wall of the cubicle. “I’ll call my dad if you stop with the cleaning. It’s freaking me out.”
Her shoulders sagged and she showed him the black goo on the wipe. “Sitting surrounded bythisshould freak you out.”
“I’ll be back.” He grabbed his cell phone and left the office.
Mackenzie began formulating their plan for once they got in. They couldn’t exactly just walk in the front door. They would definitely be denied entry. If Hamilton didn’t want to bother his friends by having Mackenzie and Nick ask them questions, she doubted he’d let them crash their poker night.
Was itjustpoker night? Or did something else happen in that house, which was why Hamilton was being so cagey?
Mallory’s voice rang in her ears.
They come here sometimes. They’ll be here tonight after the sun goes down.
The old woman knew about them. She also knew about the bodies buried there.
Mackenzie twirled a pen between her fingers, her brain resisting the temptation to draw the most obvious conclusion. Her tumbling thoughts were disrupted by a piece of paper thrust into her face.
“Sorry to startle you,” Andrew said. “But Robbie drew you this.”
She took it from him. It was a drawing of a woman dressed like a cop. It was a stick figure, but she had red hair just like Mackenzie.
“I told him you’ve been having a rough time with this case, so he did this on his own,” Andrew added.
Mackenzie traced the smooth texture of the color that wasn’t quite contained with the lines. “That’s very sweet of him. I’ll keep it.”
“Thank you.”
She pinned the drawing to her bulletin board, right in the center, making a mental note to get it framed later. Its innocence and heart instigated a hollow feeling inside her. Like a thousand knives had left holes all over her. “Maybe you should move back to Olympia and just commute,” she suggested. “Lakemore isn’t a good place for kids, especially sensitive ones like Robbie.”
Andrew placed his elbow on the divider between Mackenzie and Troy’s cubicles. “Have more faith in your town, Detective Price. I’ve studied many places and this one has a tendency to bounce back onto its feet.”
