Read Online His Garden of Bones (Skye Cree Book 4) by Vickie McKeehan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Vickie McKeehan
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didn’t resonate with me like it should have. If I’d been thinking clearer, I’d have asked Bayliss about it then. Buy hey, that’s one more reason I’m getting too old for this job.”
She patted Harry’s back in a sympathetic gesture. “No need to beat yourself up. I was pretty wiped myself. We know it now and that’s what matters.”
“Isn’t that against medical regulations? Using implants without serial numbers?” Josh asked.
“You bet. Those numbers are there to keep track of them in the event of problems, leaks, that sort of thing, so doctors have a way of making patients aware of the issues.”
Picking up the issue, Josh tossed out a few facts. “Implants are treated just like other medical devices—cardiac defibrillators, pacemakers, shunts, rods and screws used in spinal surgeries. They all have serial numbers.”
“Maybe Lisa’s were from a foreign manufacturer. No serial numbers means they’re running under the radar.”
Josh frowned and shook his head. “Even foreign manufacturers maintain reputable standards, or should. Maybe we should focus on the ones that don’t.” He looked long and hard at Harry. “Let’s go back to something you mentioned earlier. You found no other notifications from other law enforcement agencies or jurisdictions about this type victim anywhere else nearby, correct?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Then why these three? What’s unique about them? That’s the question,” Josh reasoned as he continued to roam the room. “What was special about Montague, Dinsmore, and Williams? Did they have the same hair coloring? Same color eyes? Do each of these women fit a type?”
Skye shook her head. “They were dissimilar in looks. Montague was more like a dishwater blonde, Dinsmore a variation of a redhead, and Williams had black hair with purple streaks in it. You know, the way some women dye their hair in bright shades to set themselves apart from the norm. The day Lisa went missing, however, she exhibited what could only be considered a much more conservative style than what I saw this morning.”
Josh jingled the loose change in his pockets and pondered what that meant. “Okay, so he doesn’t look for a ‘type’ per se. He concentrates on opportunity and availability. After hiding these three victims for years, he brings them out in the open, casts them off where he’s sure they’ll be found. Why? What do we know about each victim? Harry?”
“I emailed Skye the files with the particulars two weeks ago. She should have them in her inbox.”
“I can do better than that. I emailed them to myself and printed them out.” Skye crossed over to a desk in the corner of the kitchen, a workstation she used for such things when she was at home, and retrieved several manila folders from the drawer. She flipped through the folders gathering data. “According to their autopsies, all three were Caucasian. Carrie Montague was five-six, weighed one-twenty. Taylor Dinsmore five-three, weighed ninety pounds. Lisa Williams, five-five, weighed one-fourteen. No traits in common except for race and gender—different hair colors, different heights. So I’d say you’re right, Josh. No pattern as to type.”
About that time Harry’s cell phone rang. The detective listened to what was obviously the medical examiner calling. Harry repeated the conversation word for word for the benefit of Skye and Josh. “Bayliss says there were no traces of semen on Lisa Williams. But she did show signs she went through childbirth, and not recently. Maybe eighteen months ago. That’s a guess. Wherever Lisa was held during the four years she was gone, she gave birth there.”
“That’s a sad and disturbing thought.”
As soon as Harry hung up, the discussion between Josh and Skye took off in that direction.
“Could that have been his purpose? He wanted offspring and that’s why the other girls were discarded because they didn’t comply?”
Skye wasn’t ready to buy
She patted Harry’s back in a sympathetic gesture. “No need to beat yourself up. I was pretty wiped myself. We know it now and that’s what matters.”
“Isn’t that against medical regulations? Using implants without serial numbers?” Josh asked.
“You bet. Those numbers are there to keep track of them in the event of problems, leaks, that sort of thing, so doctors have a way of making patients aware of the issues.”
Picking up the issue, Josh tossed out a few facts. “Implants are treated just like other medical devices—cardiac defibrillators, pacemakers, shunts, rods and screws used in spinal surgeries. They all have serial numbers.”
“Maybe Lisa’s were from a foreign manufacturer. No serial numbers means they’re running under the radar.”
Josh frowned and shook his head. “Even foreign manufacturers maintain reputable standards, or should. Maybe we should focus on the ones that don’t.” He looked long and hard at Harry. “Let’s go back to something you mentioned earlier. You found no other notifications from other law enforcement agencies or jurisdictions about this type victim anywhere else nearby, correct?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Then why these three? What’s unique about them? That’s the question,” Josh reasoned as he continued to roam the room. “What was special about Montague, Dinsmore, and Williams? Did they have the same hair coloring? Same color eyes? Do each of these women fit a type?”
Skye shook her head. “They were dissimilar in looks. Montague was more like a dishwater blonde, Dinsmore a variation of a redhead, and Williams had black hair with purple streaks in it. You know, the way some women dye their hair in bright shades to set themselves apart from the norm. The day Lisa went missing, however, she exhibited what could only be considered a much more conservative style than what I saw this morning.”
Josh jingled the loose change in his pockets and pondered what that meant. “Okay, so he doesn’t look for a ‘type’ per se. He concentrates on opportunity and availability. After hiding these three victims for years, he brings them out in the open, casts them off where he’s sure they’ll be found. Why? What do we know about each victim? Harry?”
“I emailed Skye the files with the particulars two weeks ago. She should have them in her inbox.”
“I can do better than that. I emailed them to myself and printed them out.” Skye crossed over to a desk in the corner of the kitchen, a workstation she used for such things when she was at home, and retrieved several manila folders from the drawer. She flipped through the folders gathering data. “According to their autopsies, all three were Caucasian. Carrie Montague was five-six, weighed one-twenty. Taylor Dinsmore five-three, weighed ninety pounds. Lisa Williams, five-five, weighed one-fourteen. No traits in common except for race and gender—different hair colors, different heights. So I’d say you’re right, Josh. No pattern as to type.”
About that time Harry’s cell phone rang. The detective listened to what was obviously the medical examiner calling. Harry repeated the conversation word for word for the benefit of Skye and Josh. “Bayliss says there were no traces of semen on Lisa Williams. But she did show signs she went through childbirth, and not recently. Maybe eighteen months ago. That’s a guess. Wherever Lisa was held during the four years she was gone, she gave birth there.”
“That’s a sad and disturbing thought.”
As soon as Harry hung up, the discussion between Josh and Skye took off in that direction.
“Could that have been his purpose? He wanted offspring and that’s why the other girls were discarded because they didn’t comply?”
Skye wasn’t ready to buy
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