“Holy cow,” he muttered. “So the dead guy did know your mother.”

  “My father, too, evidently.” The bites of sandwich hardened in her belly like rocks. Would her father have knowingly associated with a killer? Did he understand how this man had felt about his wife?

  Not possible.

  Billy hummed a questioning note. “There’s always the chance neither of them knew what he was.”

  Wouldn’t she love to learn that was the case? But Rowan had already been faced with too many disillusionments to go down that path. “I stopped believing in Santa a long time ago, Billy.”

  “Then you’ve already decided your parents are the bad guys.”

  When he put it that way, her conclusions sounded harsh. “My mother, not necessarily my father, and I’m only going on the evidence in front of me. It’s fairly difficult to deny.”

  There was no ignoring the photographs.

  “Things are not always what they seem, Ro.”

  The man was preaching to the choir. “I’m well aware but I doubt we’ll ever know for sure.”

  Herman was dead. She refused to trust anything Julian told her. Who else was there to ask? No one she had found.

  “I have some news.”

  She searched his face. Had Dressler called him with an update or was he talking about his two homicides? She hadn’t been able to reach April Jones. Instinct nagged at Rowan again where those two cases were concerned. “What sort of news?”

  “The engineers checked the cave—we can go inside. I was thinking after Mr. Harvey’s funeral we could go have a look. The evidence techs are doing a sweep this morning.”

  Anticipation chased away the frustration she had felt after this morning’s confrontation with Anna Addington. This was very good news. “I would very much like to see if there’s anything useful in that cave.”

  It wasn’t that she was looking forward to clambering around beneath the side of a mountain, but if Sanchez/Santos had left any evidence there she wanted desperately to find it. Anything to clear up at least some aspect of this mystery.

  Billy set aside his coffee cup. “Have you given any thought to how far you want to go with this?”

  “What do you mean?” The way he studied her made her uncomfortable.

  “Your parents are gone, Ro. Will it change anything if you find all the answers?”

  She had wrestled with that question more than once. “Does it matter if my mother was involved with one or more killers?”

  He waited while she considered her own question. She kept the biggest one to herself. Will it change how I feel if I learn my father killed another human?

  “Not really,” she confessed. “Norah has been dead for a very long time. I’ve already come to terms with the idea that it was her involvement with Julian that took my sister’s life, that turned mine upside down and killed my father.”

  This was the hard part. Allowing her mind to go back to when she was a child. How could her life have been such a lie? All the stories, all the research trips—all of those excuses were lies. Norah evidently lied most of the time. A carefully constructed cover for her heinous extracurricular activities.

  “But I need to know for me.” It hurt that she couldn’t tell him what Julian had said about her father killing Alisha. She desperately needed to prove that was wrong and she couldn’t bear the idea of Billy considering the idea that her father might have been a murderer.

  Was she wrong not to share that painful possibility with Billy? Would he understand her reasoning when she did tell him? She was undecided about the answer to the former, but the answer to the latter was an absolute no. Billy would not understand her inability to trust him with anything.

  “If that’s what you want and the answers are out there,” he assured her, “we’ll find them.”

  Rowan had never been more grateful for Billy’s support than she was now. He was the one person she could rely on.

  Then why not tell him?

  “I went to the lake this morning.”

  The expression on Billy’s face loudly announced his disapproval.

  She ignored the unspoken rebuke. “While I was there, I ran into Mrs. Addington. Did Dressler tell you Julian had moved certain resources?” She had a feeling he had not. Either way, the question took the immediate pressure off her other worries. “The ex-wife claims her CPA caught the movement. I reminded her Julian could have had someone else acting on his behalf. Closing an account in Switzerland doesn’t mean Julian is there by any means.”

  Billy shook his head, irritation flaring in his eyes. “Dressler didn’t mention any new developments.”

  “Maybe Dressler’s not convinced it was Julian, either.”

  “I’m not sure Addington would allow that much distance between the two of you.”

  Billy’s point was a reasonable one, if one she’d rather not hear. “He’s not going to walk into any situations where he might be trapped. As much as he wants me for whatever reason, his freedom means far more to him.”

  “He’s waiting for the right opportunity.”

  Rowan didn’t argue. Billy was right.

  Before this was over, there would be a final showdown of sorts.

  Twelve

  2:30 p.m.

  The Harvey funeral and burial went off without a hitch. Charlotte was happy to take care of closing up at the funeral home while Rowan dressed to go into that cave with Billy. She wore a pair of skinny jeans that fit more like leggings, with tube socks and high-top hiking boots that would help ensure no critters managed to wiggle their way into her pants leg. A T-shirt and a heavy pullover sweatshirt, along with a pair of gloves stuck in her back pocket, and she was good to go. At the last minute she decided to braid her hair.

  She gave Freud a goodbye pat, slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried downstairs. She would have loved to take Freud along but it was a potential crime scene. Having her dog digging around could be a problem.

  Billy pulled into the parking lot as she set the alarm and locked up. Charlotte and the cleaning team were gone already. It was Sunday. No one wanted to hang around any longer than necessary.

  She climbed into the passenger side of Billy’s truck. “Did the evidence techs find anything?”

  He hadn’t called, but then she supposed he hadn’t wanted to interrupt her during a funeral. Her seat belt was snapped into place and he’d rolled onto the street before he answered, sending her tension level over the moon.

  “I have to call Dressler.”

  His resigned and weary tone told Rowan it had been a long day and it was far from over.

  “You found something.” Her heart was pounding before the words were out of her mouth.

  “There are bones, Ro. Lots and lots of bones.”

  Bones. Oh, Jesus. “Okay. I suppose it makes sense that the bones go with the faces and those bizarre books he made of skin.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. Under the circumstances I assume Dressler’s people will want to do the exhumation and lab work.”

  “Of course.” A massive undertaking such as this one would consume tremendous resources. Rowan was grateful Billy’s department wouldn’t be saddled with that responsibility. The flip side was that he would lose control over the evidence and would be at Dressler’s mercy where information was concerned. Still, as a member of the Addington task force, he would be briefed on the findings. At some point, anyway.

  “Meanwhile I have most of my department focused on those two homicides.”

  Once again she felt responsible for the enormous weight on his shoulders. She had brought nothing but trouble his way since her return. Hopefully these latest two murders weren’t a part of the trouble she had ushered to his door.

  “Anything new?” she asked.

  “None of Henegar’s friends or family can imagine anyone killing him, especially in such a depraved manner. Same with Thackerson. No one knows of any enemies either of them had. No trouble we’ve been able to find.”

  “What about the autopsies?” There was always the possibility that the bodies would provide some sort of evidence besides time, cause and manner of death.

  “Won’t have the preliminaries back until tomorrow or Tuesday. Tox screens will take even longer. For now, we’ve got a lot of nothing.”

  “Insurance policies?”

  “Henegar had one. One hundred and fifty thousand. The wife’s the beneficiary, of course.” Billy made the turn that would take them out of downtown Winchester.

  “What about Thackerson’s daughter?” Money was a powerful motivator.

  “No insurance policy but the man had a couple hundred thousand bucks in his safe. And the store, of course.”

  “Any other heirs?”

  Billy shook his head. “Not for Thackerson. Henegar has grown sons but the wife is the only beneficiary on the insurance policy.”

  Rowan felt certain Billy had already considered this but she asked, anyway. “When did the insurance policy go into effect?”

  “Ten years ago. One hundred and fifty thousand would be a lot to Wanda. Stan believed in living frugally. There may be money in savings, as well.”

  “Any marriage issues?” Wanda was considerably younger than her husband. It was possible she’d gotten involved with someone else. “Wanda has no children of her own. Maybe that had become a problem.”

  “We’re still looking into the more personal dynamics of their relationship.” He glanced at Rowan. “Folks don’t like to speak out of school about a deacon or his wife.”

  Some things never changed.

  “What’s the Thackerson woman’s name?” Rowan tried to recall if she had gone to school with a Thackerson but she didn’t remember anyone by that name.

  “Sue Ellen. She’s thirty.”

  Which would explain why Rowan didn’t remember her. “Married? Kids? Money problems? Job worries?”

  The more questions she asked, the guiltier she felt for taking any of Billy’s time. Homicide cases could be overwhelming. For a department as small as Billy’s to have two at the same time... Well, it was no party.

  “Married and divorced a couple of times. No kids. She was in and out of trouble as a teenager. Petty theft, possession of marijuana. A couple of DUIs, one speeding ticket and another marijuana charge as an adult. She lives in that trailer park over on Mingo Road. Drives a clunker. And she’s unemployed at the moment.”

  “They both have potential motives.”

  “They do. But they also have alibis for the times of the murders.”

  “Do they know each other?” One was thirty-five, the other thirty. Maybe they remembered each other from school. What was she thinking? This was Winchester. Everyone knew everyone else. But then, she didn’t remember either one. Giving herself grace, she had blocked many things from those years.

  “No connection that we’ve found. Wanda dropped out of school when she was fifteen so they weren’t in school together.” Billy eased to the side of the road. “But bear in mind that we’re just getting started. We still have a lot of questions to ask and a lot of fact-checking to do.”

  Rowan didn’t envy him the process. “I will bear that in mind, Chief.” She flashed him a smile. “And you know I’m always happy to assist.”

  “I’ll probably take you up on that offer more often than not, Dr. DuPont.”

  “I look forward to the challenge.”

  As she emerged from his truck she noted the official vehicles already on-site. Two patrol cars and the crime-scene-unit van. She recognized the fourth vehicle as the coroner’s. “Burt’s here?”

  “He’s having a look.” Billy glanced at her. “Mostly out of curiosity, I think.”

  “Like me.” Dressler would not appreciate Billy allowing her onto his crime scene.

  “This involves you, Ro. I see your being here as a necessary part of what I have to do to conduct this investigation.”

  Always on her side. “Thanks.”

  With all the official folks who had gone through, the path was tramped down to a degree, making the going somewhat easier. Rowan craned her neck to get a look at tent city as they passed the gap in the trees that allowed a glimpse. At least a dozen tents stood in the clearing. She hoped the inhabitants had sleeping bags. The nights were getting colder all the time.

  A crime-scene perimeter had been set up well before they reached the cave entrance. Three...no, four crows sat high in the trees. A cold, shrill caw pulled her attention to another tree where two more crows were perched. One cawed again, his head swiveling at the activities going on below. Rowan stared at the dark-eyed creatures and resisted the urge to shiver. She’d never been the superstitious type, but seeing the crows still hanging about made her wonder if some of those old tales she’d heard as a child were true. How did the story go? One crow meant bad luck, but six? Six meant death was nearby.

  Maybe there was something to that old saying.

  An officer Rowan didn’t recognize was maintaining the perimeter. Billy spoke to him as they crossed beneath the yellow tape. At the lean-to-style campsite, another officer was stationed at the entrance.

  “Chief.” He gave Billy a nod. “Ma’am,” he said to Rowan. She smiled and gave him a nod.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” Billy assured her.

  Rowan hunkered down and made her way through the opening. Inside, she straightened and sidestepped to give Billy plenty of room to join her. Burt’s voice echoed from somewhere deeper in the cave. Battery-operated lights had chased away the darkness, revealing the rocky floor and walls.

  “This way.”

  Billy moved forward and Rowan followed. It was necessary to watch each step. There was no level ground. After rounding a bend in the cave, she spotted a larger room where more lights had been stationed. Burt and the evidence techs were deep in conversation.

  Beyond the men gathered in the center of the space, Rowan’s gaze settled on the images on the cave walls—stick figures had been drawn all the way around. Some were standing, others appeared to be lying on the ground. There were symbols and notations not readily translatable.

  “Have you photographed the images?” She would need to study those in order to determine the meaning. A couple looked vaguely familiar.

  “We did.” He gestured to the mounds all the way around the space, like a circular burial ground. “At first we thought it might be some sort of ancient Native American burial ground, but pieces of clothing were found among the bones and those items were newer so that scenario was ruled out.”

  Burt turned toward them. “I’m guessing there are at least two dozen, maybe more, sets of remains here.”

  “This could be his dump site,” Ro said, more to herself than to anyone else.

  “Makes sense.” Billy scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Also makes me sick.”

  It was difficult to learn that a serial killer had been living in your midst and taking victims—wherever they’d come from. Since Billy had no unsolved missing-persons cases, the victims were obviously from some other town, maybe even from a different state. Dressler could very well be able to identify a large number based on the files he had on this previously unidentified serial killer.

  Hopefully the find would at least provide closure for the families of the victims.

  Rowan leaned close to Billy and, for his ears only, asked, “Have they found anything related to Norah?”

  Billy shook his head. “Not yet. I can’t put off Dressler beyond tomorrow morning. Once he takes over, we won’t be allowed anywhere near this place.”

  “I understand. I’ll have a look around now.”

  “I’ll catch up with my techs.” Billy gave her a nod and then joined the huddle of evidence techs. Two Rowan recognized, the other she did not.

  Rowan walked around the perimeter, careful to stay off the mounds. Had he degloved his victims here? Perhaps skinned them entirely before he buried them. Used other parts for his special stew that Mr. Utter had enjoyed so much? She glanced around the space, then studied the images on the wall. The drawings were very simplistic. She counted them. Twenty-six. Oh, yes. This was his dump site. Most likely every one of those preserved faces went with a set of remains buried here.

  What would her mother—her parents—have in common with this man? The idea made no sense at all.

  What was Julian trying to show her? What did any of this even mean?

  Another half hour and Rowan was ready to go. There was nothing more she could learn here without exhuming the remains and that wasn’t going to happen. Dressler’s people would be moving on that step.

  When they reached his truck, Billy hesitated at her door without opening it. “I know this is difficult, Ro, but we will figure it out.”

  “I really hope so, Billy. Every time I think I have some aspect of my parents’ secret lives figured out, something else crops up.” She shook her head. “It’s like I didn’t even know them.”

  “He wants you to feel that way,” Billy reminded her. “He wants you to feel disconnected and lost. But you are not disconnected and you’re damn sure not lost.” He reached out, trailed the fingers of his right hand down her cheek. “He can’t take the memories you have away from you unless you let him.”

  She smiled, appreciated the warmth in his touch. She clutched his fingers with her own and gave them a squeeze. “You’re right. I will not allow him to take the good memories from me. My father loved me. I know he did. I don’t know as much about my mother but that’s okay. I’ve learned to live without her.”

  “There you go.” He opened her door. “When he figures out he can’t tear you down, maybe he’ll let you go.”

  Rowan climbed into the seat. She hoped Billy was right. But she knew Julian too well to believe he would ever give up on anything he really wanted. He was not a very good loser. Julian liked to win—he wanted to be right in all things.