Page 93 of Cold, Cold Bones

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As he trudged uphill, I took one last look at my friend. Slumped behind the wheel, he looked like a partier after a big night. I fought back the tears burning my lids.

When I exited the garage, Slidell was not on the drive. Rounding the townhouse, I spotted him on the front stoop. Talking to Donna Henry.

Henry nodded, flicked a wave, and disappeared through the door.

“What’s your take?” I asked when Slidell joined me.

“No signs of forced entry. No note.” The bed was made, the TV and radio were off. One set of tracks at the front door, large, probably his. No indications of a visitor.”

I’d given him those details.

“There was a crystal tumbler on the desk in his office, clean. An open bottle of Chivas in one of the drawers.”

I hadn’t spotted the glass.

Slidell looked at his watch.

Cleared his throat.

Spoke words I’d never imagined him saying to me.

21

“Iwas right?” Certain I hadn’t heard correctly.

“Yeah.”

“About what?”

Slidell arced an arm toward the scene at our backs. “All this don’t clang a dozen bells for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and me, we worked a suicide looked a lot like this. CO poisoning, homeowner dead at the wheel in his garage. Only it wasn’t no suicide.”

Suddenly, I did recall. The man’s name. His ashen face. His crumpled glasses on the floor mat by his feet.

I’d been too close to this situation. Too distraught to note the parallels.

Not Slidell.

“Dr. Ajax,” I said.

He nodded. Then, tight, as though the admission might cause his mouth to blister, “I think you’re on to something. Boldonado. Kwalwasser. Sanchez. And there was that psycho art project in the bus.”

“You believe I have a copycat?”

“I believe you got something ain’t good.”

At that moment, two things happened.

The gritty sound of wheels caused us both to turn. Hawkins and Sandford were rolling the gurney up the driveway. The body bag, now secured with mesh straps, held a very large bulge.

Icy pellets began stinging our faces.

“There’s more.” I started to tell Slidell about the bucket.

“Not here. I’m freezing my nuts off.”

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