Bones Never Lie (Temperance Brennan, #17)(15)
“It’s her, Ryan. She’s killing again. A girl was murdered in Vermont in 2007. Her body was posed. The cold case detective—”
“Past life.” His eyes returned to the book.
“Pomerleau’s DNA was found on the kid.”
Ryan’s gaze remained fixed on the page. But a changed tension in his neck and shoulders told me he was listening.
“You tracked Pomerleau. You caught her. You know how she thinks.”
“I’m no longer in the show.” Still not looking up.
“She’s resurfaced, Ryan. She got away from us on rue de Sébastopol, and now she’s back at it.”
Finally, his eyes rolled up to mine. A spiderweb of red surrounded each neon-blue iris.
“A girl was murdered in Charlotte in 2009. The victimology and crime scene signature parallel the case in Vermont.”
“Including Pomerleau’s DNA?”
“That’s being confirmed.”
“Sounds weak.”
“It’s her.”
Ryan’s eyes held mine for a very long moment, then dropped back to the page he wasn’t reading.
“Another girl has now gone missing. Same physical type. Same MO.”
“No.”
“Undoubtedly, there were others in between.”
“Leave me alone.”
“We need you. We have to shut her down.”
“Do you know the way back to your hotel?”
“This isn’t you, Ryan. You can’t turn your back on these kids, knowing there will likely be more. More murders of young girls.”
Ryan reached up and killed the light.
Above the whine of insects and the gentle ticking of wind-tossed leaves, I heard him turn away from me.
Back at Villas Katerina, my iPhone picked up a signal, and messages pinged in.
Slidell had called three times.
Of the past forty-eight hours, I’d slept maybe two. Nevertheless, I phoned him. As was his style, Slidell launched in without greeting. “Where the hell are you?”
“Costa Rica.”
“Long way to go for a taco.”
“I’m talking to Ryan.” No point in discussing distinctions of ethnic cuisine.
“Yeah? How’s that going?”
“It’s not.”
“Just tell the bastard to get his ass home.”
“Never thought of that. Why did you phone?”
“When Barrow got the call from Rodas, he set up a cold case review on Nance.”
I knew that.
“First thing he did was resubmit the kid’s clothing and the shit stuck to her hand.”
“Thinking technology has improved since ’09?” I stifled a yawn.
“Yeah. And go figure. It has.”
Suddenly I was wide awake. “The lab found DNA that didn’t belong to Nance?”
“Guess the happy donor.”
“Pomerleau.”
“None other.”
“Holy crap.”
The speed of the report didn’t surprise me. The CMPD has its own DNA capability, and turnaround averages two weeks. What shocked me was the fact that the link was now real. Undeniable. Anique Pomerleau had abducted and killed a child in my town.
“What about Shelly Leal?”
“Still out of pocket. But we might have caught a break there. Kid had her own laptop. I had the computer guys take a run at it. The thing was wiped.”
“When?”
“Around three on Friday afternoon.”
“Right before she disappeared.”
“Eeyuh.”
“What was erased?”
“The browser history and the email. Clean. Not one friggin’ message. Not one friggin’ page.”
“Isn’t there an option to clear the history at specified intervals? Or every time you log off?”
“The guy said that’s what clued him. When he checked, the browser wasn’t set to do that. So he did whatever voodoo it is they do, found that someone had manually deleted the stuff. Emptied whatever it is archives your email on Mars.”
“Anything else?”
“Photos, music, documents, those files are all there. Hadn’t been touched since Friday morning. The only thing nuked was the online stuff.”
“Unlikely a middle-schooler would know how to do that.”
“Mom said the kid wasn’t a techie.”
“Clearly, she was coached.”
“Eeyuh.”
“You’re thinking she met Pomerleau online?”
“I’m thinking I’m damn sure gonna find out.”
“Can your guy retrieve any of the deleted files?”
“He’s working on it, no promises.”
“Did you roll this past Rodas?”
“The kid in Vermont didn’t own a computer.”
“Mobile phones? Other devices?”
“Gower didn’t own a cell. Leal did, but the thing’s missing. And the record search turned up shit.”
“How about Nance?”
“That’s why I called. You see any mention of a phone in the CCU file?”
“I’ll check as soon as I get back.”
“When’s that?”