Page 94 of Cold, Cold Bones
“Come to my place. I’ll make coffee.”
“That works.”
Fifteen minutes later we were seated at my kitchen table. Slidell had made the expected cracks about my skills as a barista. Not using such an urbane term, of course.
Birdie was working Skinny’s ankles. By some feline logic, the cat thinks the man is cool. Go figure.
Slidell blew across, then slurped his coffee. “Now. Slow your roll so I don’t need to radio for an interpreter.”
“Do you recall a case I did for Burke County a few years back?” Measured, though my pulse was racing. “A bucket of concrete that held a human head?”
“Bunch of whackos up in the mountains, right?”
“Yes.”
“And there wasn’t no head in there.”
“But there had been.” I swallowed. “On Thursday, a Burke County deputy sent another bucket to the MCME. Discovered in the same location as the previous one.”
“That overlook?”
“Wiseman’s.”
“How the hell do you get yourself into thes—”
“Save it!”
“OK. Let’s back up. When did all this start?” Taking out the spiral and a stub of pencil.
“My first hint was the eyeball.”
“Pretty goddam good hint. Remind me. When was that?”
“The day Katy moved into her house. January 30.” Saying it aloud made my stomach cramp.
Slidell wet the pencil on his tongue, made a note, looked up.
“Next was the head in the privy. Though, obviously the eyeball and the head are related. But the head had been discarded, the eyeball kept longer, then delivered to me.”
“Kwalwasser,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Her head disappeared from the crematorium when?” Slidell asked. Birdie stopped working figure eights and began licking the water puddling around his shoes.
“Probably the same year she died, 2020. It was discovered missing during the investigation in 2020.”
“And the stolen eyeball made you think of the kid got his organs snatched.”
That and my nagging subconscious. I didn’t mention the id brigade.
“Miguel Sanchez. He was found missing his liver, heart, and kidneys.”
“When?”
“Why don’t I pull up the files?” I suggested.
“Yeah. Do that.”
