Page 70 of In the Bones
Then, to Tim: “It’s Molly Kranz.”
FIFTY-NINE
Mac
The portable crime scene lights, phosphorescent-bright in the eerie, greenish-black cast of the arena, had given Mac a headache. It made the building look like it was filled with glowing vats of chemical waste.
Molly Kranz had been found in the ice rink, lying among yellow tendrils of moss. The jean jacket she’d taken from one of the houses was soaked through with claret-red blood. She had suffered a stab wound to the ribs, the weapon—your run-of-the-mill paring knife—wedged so tightly that her attacker had left it behind.
Molly thought she knew who killed Angelica.
Mac was willing to bet she was right.
As much as it pained her to do it, she forced herself to think about how yet another violent crime would affect her sheriff candidacy. If she knew Bruce Milton, he’d parlay this into a broader smear campaign. The man would have no qualms about stepping on Molly Kranz’s back to elevate his status in the eyes of voters, the prick. Mac made a mental note to take the Miltons off her Christmas card list. After the election, she had no intention of speaking to Bruce or his wife again.
Back outside, she shook the dirt and dust from her feathered blonde bangs and went to find Tim and Shana. Looking as grimy as she felt—fifteen minutes in the place, and Mac was going to need a decontamination shower—they stood by the back of the second ambulance. Even sitting down, the man inside towered over the emergency technicians, his legs sticking out in front of him like stilts. His long, oval face made his pained expression read like haughty discontent.
Mac knew that face. This was the guy Bruce had been talking to after the debate. When Shana had called Mac, she’d saidhe was Mikko’s contractor, and that he was suspected of stabbing Molly.
Apparently, Terry Martino had taken a tumble inside the ruins in his failed attempt to flee. A small part of Mac relished the sight of the rusty hunk of metal jutting out of his calf, along with his whiny pleas to remove it. Protocol required the EMTs to leave that task to the doctors, but since bleeding was minimal, they’d agreed to give Shana and Tim a few minutes with the suspect before transporting him to the hospital.If there’s a god, Mac thought,removing that thing will hurt like a mother and this asshole will get tetanus.
“Is this even legal?” Terry stared wide-eyed at his leg. His eye sockets were pronounced: two deep, black gullies. At their center, a spark of arrogance glowed like a smoldering coal. “I need medical attention, and these people are just standing around!”
“The faster you talk,” said Shana, “the sooner we can get that taken care of.”
“I already told you, I didn’t kill that woman.”
Tim said, “Did you have a plan to meet her here?” Molly’s car had been discovered behind the building, in the overflow parking lot.
“No,” Terry snapped. “I don’t even know her.”
“You sure that’s the story you want to go with? You were found with her body,” Tim pointed out. “We’ll seize the knife as evidence, and I notice you’re not wearing gloves. A partial print is all we need to charge you, Mr. Martino, but I’m guessing we’ll find DNA too. Failing to cooperate is only going to make things worse.”
“She was dead when I got here,” he said. “I swear it.”
“Then why did you run?”
Throwing his hands in the air, Terry said, “You scared the shit out of me! I didn’t think anyone else was here.”
Tim’s gaze flicked to Mac. He was losing patience.
“Then why did you come here today, Mr. Martino?”
The question knocked him down a peg. Terry looked like he’d swallowed a bug.
“We know about your partnership with Mikko Helle,” saidShana. “You guys dream big, huh? A renovation, an expansion. Helle bought this place last September. What’s the holdup on the work?”
Terry mouth glided into a frown. “Just standard delays,” he said coolly.
“Funding issues?” Tim suggested. “Did you find out Helle’s pockets weren’t as deep as you thought?”
Terry tilted his head, and Mac could swear Tim’s question had surprised him. “Something like that,” the man said.
“You still haven’t explained why you’re here.”
“I came out here to think. About the renovation, like you said,” Terry told them. “She was like that when I found her—almost gave me a fucking heart attack. All that blood … Jesus, it was awful. I’d been in there for maybe three minutes when you guys showed up.”
Did Mac believe him? The man’s snow-white golf shirt had dust on the shoulders, but from where she was standing, she couldn’t see so much as a droplet of blood. Stabbings were messy for everyone involved, even if a weapon didn’t produce cast-off patterns. Was it possible this jerk was telling the truth?
