Read Online Krewe of Hunters The Unseen by Heather Graham - Free Book Online
Authors: Heather Graham
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her.
“Nancy, I think a ghost is playing with me,” Chelsea said, and she laughed again.
“Chelsea, what’s going on?” her friend asked.
“I—”
And that was it. Silence. For a moment, those in the room were silent, as well.
“And just how do you figure the third voice got on the phone?” Logan Raintree asked. His voice was hard and cold. “For it to be that clear, he had to have his mouth right next to the phone. What did the friend say when you questioned her about it?”
“I called Nancy McCall earlier this afternoon,” Jake said. “She didn’t hear the other voice when she spoke to Chelsea, and she has no idea how it can be so clear on the recording—or even how it managed to record at all. I told you, I’ve been isolating sounds, but I can’t separate this voice from Chelsea’s when I try to bring them onto different frequencies. I just played you the original. I can isolate Chelsea’s voice, and you’ll hear that it’s still in there.” He played the recording again.
Afterward, Jackson walked over to Jake’s desk, which held IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012
9780778313298_HC.indd 62
11-12-01 3:55 PM
63
a pile of folders. He picked up two of them. “Take these,” he said, handing one to Logan and one to Kelsey. “They have all the information we’ve got on Chelsea and Tara, and the times and dates the six unidentified bodies were discovered. Please take a look at the folders. If you decide to join the team, I’d like you to come to the morgue with me tomorrow.”
“Have those bodies been there all this time?” Logan asked.
“No. We’ve exhumed them,” Jackson told him. “They were buried by the city as unknowns.”
Logan shook his head, eyes narrowed. His expression was impassive, and yet Kelsey felt that some kind of emotion was seething inside him. “Why now?” he asked. If he exploded, he’d be frightening.
Yet she was equally certain that he never just exploded.
He controlled himself at all times.
“It’s in the folder,” Jackson said.
Next, Jake passed out pages he’d obviously printed for them. “I was looking up information on another case when I found out that a young woman, Vanessa Johnston, has recently disappeared—on her way here,” he told them.
“Right now, she’s a missing person. She was driving in.
Neither she nor her Honda has been seen since she stopped at a gas station near the county line. I brought the problem to Jackson’s attention. Everything’s on those sheets I gave you.”
Kelsey slipped hers inside the folder.
“I spoke with your captain about this case, Raintree,” Jackson was saying. “And he invited us in.” IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012
9780778313298_HC.indd 63
11-12-01 3:55 PM
64
Kelsey watched as Logan Raintree nodded curtly and headed toward the door.
He paused and turned to face them. “What time are we going to the morgue?” he asked.
“9:00
a.m.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
He left the room.
“I’d like to hear the recording again, please,” Kelsey said.
She found a chair at one of the empty desks and sat, listening as Jake replayed it. Once more she felt the strange chill, but along with the sense of fear and dread, she felt…
A sense of something being oddly right. Not about the recording. About her. She might miss the water, miss home, miss being a Marshal, but she knew she could help on this case.
And she wanted to.
She held her folder with hands that seemed to freeze around it. When the recording finished, both men were watching her.
“Nine?” she asked. She’d heard Jackson the first time.
She’d just needed to say something.
“Yes,” Jackson said. “I’ll pick you up at the Longhorn.”
“One more thing.” Jake touched a key. The picture on the large computer screen changed.
Another young woman of about twenty-five smiled out at her. She was wearing a tiara on sandy-colored hair.
“That’s our missing girl,” he said. “Vanessa Johnston.
Last
“Nancy, I think a ghost is playing with me,” Chelsea said, and she laughed again.
“Chelsea, what’s going on?” her friend asked.
“I—”
And that was it. Silence. For a moment, those in the room were silent, as well.
“And just how do you figure the third voice got on the phone?” Logan Raintree asked. His voice was hard and cold. “For it to be that clear, he had to have his mouth right next to the phone. What did the friend say when you questioned her about it?”
“I called Nancy McCall earlier this afternoon,” Jake said. “She didn’t hear the other voice when she spoke to Chelsea, and she has no idea how it can be so clear on the recording—or even how it managed to record at all. I told you, I’ve been isolating sounds, but I can’t separate this voice from Chelsea’s when I try to bring them onto different frequencies. I just played you the original. I can isolate Chelsea’s voice, and you’ll hear that it’s still in there.” He played the recording again.
Afterward, Jackson walked over to Jake’s desk, which held IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012
9780778313298_HC.indd 62
11-12-01 3:55 PM
63
a pile of folders. He picked up two of them. “Take these,” he said, handing one to Logan and one to Kelsey. “They have all the information we’ve got on Chelsea and Tara, and the times and dates the six unidentified bodies were discovered. Please take a look at the folders. If you decide to join the team, I’d like you to come to the morgue with me tomorrow.”
“Have those bodies been there all this time?” Logan asked.
“No. We’ve exhumed them,” Jackson told him. “They were buried by the city as unknowns.”
Logan shook his head, eyes narrowed. His expression was impassive, and yet Kelsey felt that some kind of emotion was seething inside him. “Why now?” he asked. If he exploded, he’d be frightening.
Yet she was equally certain that he never just exploded.
He controlled himself at all times.
“It’s in the folder,” Jackson said.
Next, Jake passed out pages he’d obviously printed for them. “I was looking up information on another case when I found out that a young woman, Vanessa Johnston, has recently disappeared—on her way here,” he told them.
“Right now, she’s a missing person. She was driving in.
Neither she nor her Honda has been seen since she stopped at a gas station near the county line. I brought the problem to Jackson’s attention. Everything’s on those sheets I gave you.”
Kelsey slipped hers inside the folder.
“I spoke with your captain about this case, Raintree,” Jackson was saying. “And he invited us in.” IN PROCESS EDITION - JAN. 10, 2012
9780778313298_HC.indd 63
11-12-01 3:55 PM
64
Kelsey watched as Logan Raintree nodded curtly and headed toward the door.
He paused and turned to face them. “What time are we going to the morgue?” he asked.
“9:00
a.m.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
He left the room.
“I’d like to hear the recording again, please,” Kelsey said.
She found a chair at one of the empty desks and sat, listening as Jake replayed it. Once more she felt the strange chill, but along with the sense of fear and dread, she felt…
A sense of something being oddly right. Not about the recording. About her. She might miss the water, miss home, miss being a Marshal, but she knew she could help on this case.
And she wanted to.
She held her folder with hands that seemed to freeze around it. When the recording finished, both men were watching her.
“Nine?” she asked. She’d heard Jackson the first time.
She’d just needed to say something.
“Yes,” Jackson said. “I’ll pick you up at the Longhorn.”
“One more thing.” Jake touched a key. The picture on the large computer screen changed.
Another young woman of about twenty-five smiled out at her. She was wearing a tiara on sandy-colored hair.
“That’s our missing girl,” he said. “Vanessa Johnston.
Last
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