Traces of Guilt
Gabriel slapped a paddle against the water’s surface—also got Will a couple of times—but it was enough to do the job. Will used his hands to clear the area where the water was pooling. “It’s the roof of a car, all right. I’m sitting on it, Josh. At least two feet by three feet of smooth metal.”
“What do you want to do?” Gabriel asked again.
“Gotta have a shovel.”
“Tell me you’ve got phone service and a full charge on that phone.”
Will took it out of his pocket, checked, nodded.
Gabriel picked up the backpack of water bottles, towels, extra gloves they had brought, took off his jacket and pushed it inside, zipped the backpack up, and gave it his best swing to Will on the shore. “We’ll be back ASAP.”
Before long they returned with two shovels, hot coffee, and more gear to keep warm when wet.
“You should let me beach the boat,” Josh argued quietly as they trolled into the inlet.
“Not going to happen,” Gabriel replied. “Push out once I’m with Will, get GPS readings on any landmarks you can see above us. I agree with Will. That cliff face is one minor jolt away from sliding down on top of this. If we have to dig the car out, I’d like to know exactly where we found it.”
“We need to sort out something more substantial than us and a fishing boat.”
“One problem at a time,” Gabriel replied. “Ease in by the log and set me off as neatly as you did Will. First we determine with certainty what we’re looking at.” Cold lake water in November would be more than merely uncomfortable, but he knew it had to be done. He stood in the boat, made the same long step he’d watched Will do, balanced his way across the log over to the shoreline, such as it was—mostly rocks, underbrush, and mud with a steep embankment towering above.
“You made good time.”
“Josh is tense,” Gabriel said, leaving it at that as he handed over the shovels and slipped off his backpack.
Will pointed to the sizable hole he’d punched through the metal with his knife, held out his flashlight.
Gabriel took a breath, set his jaw, and accepted the light. He stretched out, getting his face close to the hole. He was feeling a bit queasy when he leaned back. “No way we’re letting Josh beach that boat. See this,” he muttered. “One of us gets to go through life without images like this seared into his mind.”
“No disagreement from me,” Will said. “We get the remains out of here before we tell Grace. She doesn’t need to know they’ve basically been in a rock, mud, and water grave for years, still resting in their car. We just say we found them near the lake.”
“She’ll need to know some details,” Gabriel replied, sitting back on his heels and shifting that conclusion to one he could live with, “but she doesn’t need to see this. We definitely get her parents out of here before we tell her we’ve found them. I don’t want her to see this scene.” Gabriel took a minute to get his breathing level. “Just for argument’s sake, how do we know this is them? Dig out the license plate? Try to find a wallet and ID? DNA will confirm it, but that’s days away. I’m thinking maybe we recover something that leaves no question the remains are theirs—wedding bands, a watch, a piece of jewelry—so we can tell her it’s certain.”
Will held out his hand. “It was hanging on the rearview mirror.”
A silver chain, a locket, the photos inside long since decayed, but the names engraved on the back still clear: Aaron, Shelley, Grace. That would help Grace, that simple proof.
“Call Josh,” Gabriel said softly. “Describe the locket.”
Will pulled out his phone and made the call.
Grace’s parents had been discovered. Relief and sadness both dominated the moment. Gabriel said a quiet prayer while Will finished talking with Josh.
Will pocketed his phone, said quietly, “I’m thinking we can clear mud and rock, pull the roof open, lift the remains out, and leave the car where it is, bury it again under a ton of rock and dirt just by punching that cliff edge above us into coming down once more.”
Gabriel absorbed the suggestion. Leaving the vehicle in place would eliminate the risk of injury to one of his deputies or crime-scene personnel. If he could somehow conclusively prove Grace’s uncle had done the murders, the case could close without the vehicle in evidence. Depending on how her parents had been killed, that might be possible, if confirmation had survived. “One problem at a time,” he said. They wouldn’t be moving the car today. “I agree we need to get the remains out of here. Right now I’m worried about the next rain bringing down the rest of that earth and burying them again. And I’d like to do it without the press hearing what’s going on. So . . . you and me?”
Will nodded. “Tell Josh to get us body bags. An hour on the shovel work, an hour to punch through the metal, a couple more hours once we’re inside the car, another hour to figure out how to transport what we recover safely away from this place—it will be close, but there’s enough daylight. I’ll call Karen to cancel our date. Have Josh tell Dad to bring a bigger boat to the opening of the inlet and drop the anchor. He can be our security on this, keep an eye on matters while we work, make sure we don’t get curious boaters. We wait for others, we’ll burn more daylight than we have and risk word getting out.”
Gabriel agreed with Will’s unspoken subtext. If someone got killed in a sudden slide of rock and dirt, they would both prefer that person have a last name Thane rather than be some twenty-something crime-scene staffer. Gabriel called Josh to describe what they needed. The Thane brothers would be the only ones put at risk retrieving the remains of Aaron and Shelley Arnett.
It took more effort than Gabriel had ever expended, but it was finished as dusk was setting in. He was wet, tired, chilled to the bone, and had images in his head that wouldn’t easily leave. They had the car roof opened up, the remains gathered with bullets still embedded in bones, and carefully laid in the all-too-familiar black bags. Gabriel had collected a meager but telling group of personal effects—a man’s watch and wallet, wedding rings, a bracelet and necklace, all safely stowed in evidence bags in his backpack. As best they could, they would be leaving the wreck cleared of personal effects. Will had worked beside him with the shovel and a light, taking turns down inside the car. It wasn’t as awful as picking up body parts on a battlefield, it wasn’t the first time for either of them dealing with remains, but it wasn’t something they would ever be able to forget.
Gabriel passed Will the last of the coffee. “What do you think? Josh beaches the boat near the opening of the inlet, we carry the body bags down the shore to him? Or do we try to bring them out the way we came in, across that fallen tree?”
“I’m thinking if Dad moves the big boat about ten degrees farther south, and Josh puts the rubber dinghy over the side, the wind will carry it into the shore near about there.” Will pointed farther down the shoreline. “We load a body bag, and they haul it back with a rope. So long as the dinghy doesn’t capsize in a wind gust or get punctured, it’s stable enough. We can have him send over a couple of marking buoys so that if the craft does go down, the body bag will still be attached by rope to the floating buoy.”
Gabriel pulled out his phone. The battery was running down, but the need for the phone connection was about done. “What do you think, four trips? Two for the body bags, two for us?” he asked as he dialed Josh.
Will nodded. Gabriel described to Josh what they wanted, pocketed his phone.
Will stood and moved to the foot of the first body bag. Gabriel picked up the front strap, and between them they carefully carried the remains of Shelley Arnett toward the spot where the dinghy would land. He had been a pallbearer many times. Never had he carried a more heartrending funeral shroud.
“Josh, you should be the one to tell Grace we were able to locate her parents’ remains,” Gabriel said, having thought through the formality of hearing from the sheriff or receiving a personal call from someone who had cared about her for a long time—and the one she’d selected to d
o the searching. “I’ll call her after you speak with her, give her the official notification.” Josh, drinking hot coffee their mother was handing around, merely nodded, his expression unreadable.
Gabriel finished toweling his hair, looked over as Will joined them. A light rain had begun as they came back across the lake. Will looked less drawn after taking a hot shower. They had assembled at Josh’s home, the nearest place to anchor the boat. The remains were still onboard.
“I’m for Josh telling Grace in person, all things being equal,” Will put in. “Ask Ann to fly down and pick you up, Josh. And I’m thinking the State Police should handle the remains. Let’s push this out of Carin County, limit any speculation.”
Their father nodded. “There’s good sense to that. And thinking ahead, Grace would be better off if the funeral takes place in Chicago, which she now considers home, so she can visit her parents’ graves when she likes without stirring up other memories.”
Gabriel agreed with both of them. He wanted to also avoid giving the media any photo ops. “I’ll drive the remains to the state lab tonight, formally report the recovery of Aaron and Shelley Arnett. Sufficient personal effects are here for IDs without DNA testing, but we’ll arrange for that to be done for Grace’s benefit. Ballistics can be run—maybe they’ll find a match with one of the uncle’s firearms. He left behind quite a few when he was killed. I wouldn’t expect him to have kept the handgun he used, but there’s a chance.”
“Pursue those questions first. If there’s a way to avoid pulling out that car, it would be for the best,” Caleb said.
“I’m guessing by morning there isn’t going to be much of a decision left on that,” Gabriel noted. “This rain is going to bring down the rest of that bluff and bury the car again.” They had pulled over fallen branches so there weren’t visible signs of the wreck or their work, but water would wash away that short-term solution in a few days. If by some chance the car didn’t get buried in a new slide, he’d determine what to do after he knew the ballistics test outcome. He’d intentionally bring down that cliff face and bury the vehicle for good if he had a choice in the matter.
Caleb finished his coffee. “Let’s get the remains moved to our sheriff’s vehicle”—he gave a quick smile to Gabriel—“and you can write up the report you’ll need.” He turned to his wife. “Would you call Karen and ask her to join us here? I want to say a few words, read Psalm twenty-three over the remains before they’re transported. This is a family matter, and she’s family.”
Gabriel appreciated the way his dad said it. Will had seen enough today that having Karen here would help. He wasn’t doing that well himself. “I’ll give Evie a call, have her come with me to the lab.” He tried not to feel anything other than simple duty with that decision. “I’m going to hold off calling my deputies. I’ve got more to explain than I’m inclined to do at the moment. Better to have the day finished first. I trust their discretion, but I’m carrying enough for tonight. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”
Caleb nodded. “That’s wisdom, Son.”
They retrieved jackets and headed outside to move the remains from the boat to the sheriff’s vehicle.
“God’s rest upon the dead . . . and the living,” Marie said softly as the task was finished. She turned around. “Josh.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’ll tell Grace her parents loved her, didn’t leave her behind, and would be so proud of their first granddaughter. Tell her I’d like to help her plan their funeral if she would allow me the honor.”
“I will, Mom.”
“Gabriel, tell Evie the full truth tonight during the drive, not just the easy version you gave me. It strikes me as important, what she thinks about today.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Marie patted his chest. “You’re a fan of annoying your mother with that ‘ma’am.’”
“Josh just said it,” he protested.
“He says it nice. You have that bit of ‘humoring your mother’ in your voice.”
He sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”
He got a hug, then was pushed away with a chuckle. “Go help your father refuel and secure the boat for the night. You know he drives it like a lumberjack.”
Gabriel willingly complied, walking back to join his father. He wasn’t surprised to see him light a cigar as they approached the pier. Each dealt with hard days in his own way, and his dad was mocking death with that smoke he’d occasionally enjoy.
“The tombstone could read, ‘Beloved Parents and Grandparents of Grace and Angel,’” Caleb suggested over his shoulder as he stepped onto the boat.
Gabriel thought it the right sentiment. “I’ll mention it to Josh.” He was aware the entire family was shifting to make sure Josh could carry matters for Grace. He’d add his official help to that so Josh could also handle matters for Grace with the medical examiner. The remains should be ready for transport to Chicago and burial in about a week. Better to get it done early in December, not too near Christmas.
Josh joined them and set to work securing the dinghy they had used. Gabriel had something of his own he wanted passed on. “Josh, mention to Grace for me that closure sometimes doesn’t feel like what you want or expect, but it’s still the milestone that over time will be what she needs.”
“I’m no good at funerals.”
“You will be at this one,” Gabriel assured him, draping an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “She came to you with her request. Close it out now with honor. Mom’s offered to help with the details, and you’ll see to it they get carried out so Grace and her daughter find the solace they need.”
Josh nodded. “You should’ve let me help today onshore.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Will and I do things I hope you never have to see, Josh. Someone in the family needs to know what peace is like. You’re the one who can assure Angel that life doesn’t have to be marred by tragedy.”
Cutting drywall needed more rest than he’d been able to grab the night before. So Gabriel drank a root beer and enjoyed Will’s back porch, listening to Karen and his mother working companionably in the kitchen. Will and Josh were enjoying a spirited game of tag with the four dogs. The work planned for today would get done another time.
“I came to say goodbye.”
Gabriel leaned back from his perch on the steps to see Evie standing behind him. For having been dropped off at her rented Victorian only about five hours ago, he thought she looked remarkably alert. He couldn’t say their talking about bones had made for the most enjoyable last conversation, but it had been illuminating. Evie had wondered why he didn’t ask her to help them out there on the lake since she was a fraction of the size of him or Will, could have worked without nearly the strain in the wrecked automobile’s small area. Her only other significant comment on their decision to do the recovery themselves had been the risks the living were willing to take to recover the dead.
“The Florist case boxes are marked, ready to be put back into the archives. There’s an index of sorts in the first box,” Evie told him now as she joined him on the steps.
“Iris will appreciate that.”
She had her own root beer. He turned his attention back to the game of tag going on.
“You solved yours. I didn’t solve mine,” she mentioned.
He smiled. “You gave it a good effort. It’ll still be here when the task force decides to take another look. Will you come back, Evie?”
“Probably.”
“It’s been a personal and professional pleasure having you in my county,” he offered, sincerely meaning the words.
She smiled. “Can’t say I enjoyed the deer, but the rest of it was an experience.” She handed him the phone from her pocket. “Thank you for the loan.”
“Anytime.”
“Have my personal number?”
“I know who has it,” he replied. “Have mine?”
“You were only a speed dial on that one. But I know who has it.”
They smiled at eac
h other, and he said, “I’m going to miss that quick wit of yours.”
“I’ll miss the sweet-tarts.”
The dogs spotted her. Evie darted off the steps to join the game of tag, and Gabriel lifted an eyebrow as he saw how fast she cut a turn. The next time they played flag football with the Thane tribe, he’d make sure she was on his team. A year or two, he thought, a few more cold cases under her belt, she’ll realize what I already know—the extraordinary job she’s done the last two weeks, even if it didn’t end as we’d hoped. She had nothing to feel apologetic about. Gabriel smiled when her dogs got Evie cornered. He figured the odds were good he’d still be sheriff when the Florist disappearance eventually did get solved—maybe by Evie.
He wasn’t inclined to say goodbye. When Evie got ready to drive out, he’d simply say, “See you around,” and find a reason to make that happen. He might be a small county sheriff in an otherwise big state, but he was resourceful. He’d track her down if necessary.
Ann would be here this afternoon to fly Josh to Chicago to talk with Grace in person. He’d be working over Christmas, but there would be opportunities around then he could fit in a visit to Springfield. Evie built a snowman in February when she was tired of the winter, he remembered. There wasn’t a need to say goodbye today. He finished his root beer, watching her laugh with the dogs, fully relaxed for the first time since they’d met. Evie was as interesting a woman as he’d thought she would be. He wasn’t going to regret how this had to transition now. Life went on.
Evie Blackwell
Evie didn’t have to glance at the map for the route home to Springfield. She set the cruise control, shifted in the seat, finding it familiar but different from the convertible she’d been driving. She looked in the rearview mirror at the dogs, already half dozing and tucked around each other.