Her Last Word
Page 63

Hayward’s expression grew somber as two technicians approached with shovels. “I’m going to miss her.”
“Get him out of here,” Adler said to a uniformed officer.
“I want to stay,” Hayward countered. “I want to see Kaitlin’s face when she sees Gina again.”
Adler motioned to the officer, and he escorted Hayward back to the cruiser. Adler continued, “Blackstone, you can leave, too.”
“I’m staying. I have to look out for my client’s best interest.”
“Your client is leaving, and so are you,” Adler ordered. “I will have you arrested.”
Blackstone studied Adler’s face and seemed to sense now was not the time to push. “I want notification the instant you identify what’s in the ground.”
“I’ll let Ricker decide what he wants you to know.”
Blackstone looked as if he’d say more but turned and left.
Kaitlin moved toward Adler. She had been silent and kept her distance from Hayward. Her skin was pale and her lips drawn into a thin line. He reminded himself she was only six days out from a brutal attack. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m doing fine. Did the GPR tell them what’s in the ground?”
“We won’t know until they clear some dirt.”
“How long will it take?” she asked.
“Not long. The technicians estimate they need to dig down about two feet.”
“Okay.” She stood rigid with her arms crossed, and her gaze rarely wavered from the dig. She was upset and nervous, and this time didn’t care who saw it.
“Did Hayward ever talk about this place?” Adler asked.
“He talked about how much he enjoyed hunting in the country. I assume now this was the place. He used to talk about sitting in his tree stand hunting deer and enjoying the view.”
“He mentioned that stand. Where is it exactly?”
She scanned the tree line and pointed. “Over there. I remember because he wanted me to climb the ladder, but I got spooked and wouldn’t do it.”
Dr. McGowan, who’d arrived with the medical examiner’s team two hours ago, watched as the technicians dug. Suddenly she asked them to stop. She knelt and brushed away the top layer of soil with her gloved hand. Finally she leaned back on her heels and rubbed the back of her wrist under her chin. She rose and approached Adler.
“Is it human bones?” he asked.
“I think so,” Dr. McGowan said. She turned to Kaitlin. “What was Gina Mason wearing when you last saw her?”
“A green sundress,” Kaitlin said.
“You’re sure?” Dr. McGowan asked.
“I’ve had fourteen years to replay that night. Yes, I’m sure.”
A grim acceptance swept over the doctor. “Okay.”
“Does this mean you found her?” Kaitlin asked.
Dr. McGowan shook her head. “It means I have to talk to the detectives first.”
“You can’t just shut me out,” Kaitlin said. “Can you at least tell me what you found?”
Ricker approached. “I can shut you out.” His tone wasn’t cruel, but it was firm. “I don’t want anything or anyone compromising this case.”
“I don’t see how my being here impacts the case.”
Adler’s tone was softer. “I know you want to be here, but this is not the place for you, Kaitlin. This is what we do best, and you need to let us do our jobs.”
Kaitlin usually came out swinging with him, but this time her shoulders slumped slightly. “Sure. Of course,” she said. “Thank you, Detectives, Dr. McGowan.”
As Dr. McGowan returned to the gravesite, Adler motioned for a city police officer, and when he approached Adler instructed him to take Kaitlin home. Kaitlin’s gaze was still full of questions and emotions, but she left without a word.
When the officer and Kaitlin drove off, Dr. McGowan said, “It’s going to take some time to excavate the bones. I can tell you we unearthed remnants of green cloth.”
Anger mingled with relief. Finding Gina would be considered a win, but there was no victory in bringing home a kid in a body bag.
“Do you know if the body is male or female?” Ricker asked.
“A young female,” she said. “I’ll report back to you both when I know more.”
As the doctor moved toward the back of the excavation site, Adler turned toward the tree stand. Instinct and restless energy had him moving through the grass toward the stand.
“Where are you going?” Ricker asked, following.
“It’s a hunch.”
“What’s that mean?” he asked.
“Kaitlin said Hayward liked sitting in his tree stand.”
Adler strode toward the wooden platform mounted between two sturdy, naked branches. A makeshift ladder made of scrap wood ran up the tree in twelve-inch intervals. It looked sturdy enough to support his weight.
“What are you doing?” Ricker said as he approached.
“I want to see what Hayward saw.” He shrugged off his suit jacket and handed it to Ricker. Fifteen feet up he reached the small platform and sat.
This high he could see everything surrounding the excavation. If Hayward needed a place to sit and remember what he’d done to Gina, this would be the spot. It wasn’t uncommon for a killer to return to a victim’s burial site and relive the crime.
“What do you see?” Ricker asked.
A cold wind chilled his skin. “A bird’s-eye view of Gina’s final resting place.”
Ricker cursed, understanding the implication. “Hayward is a sick bastard.”
As Adler was turning to descend, his gaze skimmed the grassy rolling landscape. At first glance, he almost missed it, but then something about the indented patch of grass caught his attention. For several beats he said nothing, simply staring.
“What is it?” Ricker asked.
“I’ll be damned.”
Kaitlin changed into sweats and downed three over-the-counter painkillers, opting to skip the prescription meds because the sooner she was off the stuff, the better. She owed it to Gina to stay awake until Adler called. She should have rested and put her feet up. God knows she was exhausted, but the four walls of her apartment seemed to creep inward with each passing moment.
She’d already texted Adler twice but not heard back from him. He was doing his job. He would call her when he could, but the waiting was agonizing.
Finally, too restless to sit, she grabbed her phone and wallet. There was a small bar down the block. It wasn’t too far. There she could get a soda, maybe something to eat, and listen to the buzz of conversation.
Down the elevator, she pushed aside the tingle of warning and headed down the brick sidewalk. The streets weren’t too crowded yet, but after five the area offices would let out. The city found a second life after the sun set.
She pushed through the front door of the Irish pub, found a booth in the back, and ordered a soda and a bowl of chili. As she waited, her phone buzzed with a call. She didn’t recognize the number and normally didn’t answer unknown numbers, but with so much pending, she accepted the call. “This is Kaitlin Roe.”
“This is Ashley Ralston. Jennifer’s sister.”
“Ashley.” They’d not spoken in almost fourteen years. “How did you get my number?”
“I can be persuasive.”
“With whom?”