The Bones She Buried: A completely gripping, heart-stopping crime thriller(53)

“I guess no one found anything—the guy running from the fire wasn’t located?” Josie asked.

“Sorry, boss,” Gretchen said. “Nothing.”

“Well that’s just great,” Josie said. “Listen, I know this is a stretch, but it’s the only lead we’ve got—I think we need to work harder at tracking down this Ivan person.”

“You think Colette’s friend from grade school is running around killing people and burning their houses down?” Gretchen asked.

“Before the fire broke out, Noah confirmed what Lance said about breaking his nose when he was thirteen—in April—the same month that Samuel Pratt died. According to Noah, his mom’s reaction was disproportionate to what happened. Evidently, he and Laura roughhoused a lot and she had had a much more serious injury before that, but Colette didn’t get upset back then. But when Noah broke his nose…”

“You think she wasn’t actually upset about Noah’s broken nose,” Gretchen said.

“Right. I think whatever she discussed with Ivan that day was the thing that upset her. It just happened to coincide with Noah’s broken nose and Samuel Pratt’s death,” Josie said. “The timeframe fits.”

“So who the hell was Ivan to her really?” Gretchen asked. “Do you think they were lovers? Are we back to the jealous lover theory?”

“She was seeing Ivan and Samuel Pratt and Ivan killed Pratt out of jealousy?” Josie said. “I’m not entirely comfortable with that theory, but I think Ivan is involved. It’s the only lead we have.”

It was only the whisper of a lead, and a real stretch at that, but Josie was desperate to stop the slaughter in Denton as quickly as possible, especially with Noah in harm’s way.

“There’s also the belt buckle,” Gretchen said. “So our plan is the same—you see what you can find at the library, I visit the church. If Chitwood will let me. Maybe if I tag along with Mettner, he’ll okay it.”

“You and Mett should go,” Josie agreed. “First thing in the morning. But I also think we need to talk to everyone Colette knew again to see if anyone else remembers this guy or anything else that raises red flags. Anyone we can find who goes back the last twenty years. Maybe they know something and they don’t know that they know it.”

“So church folks and co-workers,” Gretchen said. She took out her notebook, flipping back several pages. “Mettner told me that there were a handful of each who knew her going back that long. Not many, but a few. We can split them up. Mettner and I will take the church folks, you take Sutton Stone Enterprises?”

“You saw Colette’s boss at the funeral. He was obviously very fond of her, given the way he fawned over her children. I think I can get him to help.”

The nurse came back and checked Josie’s vitals once more, again pushing the nasal cannula deeper into Josie’s nostrils. She fussed over her for a few minutes before bustling off. Once she was gone, Josie said, “You have to get me out of here, though. I need to be there when Noah gets out of surgery.”





Thirty-Six





Josie slept fitfully in a vinyl chair next to Noah’s hospital bed. He woke a few times during the night, groggy and dazed. Each time she took his hand and spoke softly to him, assuring him that everything was fine, which felt like a lie. His mother had been murdered; her house had been burnt to the ground, and Josie and Noah had nearly perished in the fire. In his anesthesia-induced stupor, Noah accepted her words, giving her hand a squeeze before drifting back off to sleep. She studied his pale face with the dark circles beneath his eyes, her gaze traveling down to the IV feeding pain medication into the crook of his right arm and down to the long cast wrapped round his leg, elevated on pillows. He looked small somehow, as though the last couple of weeks had sapped something vital from him and shrunk him down.

By the time the daylight streamed through the large windows, every part of Josie’s body ached. Her eyes burned with fatigue, and her chest still felt heavy. The taste of soot and smoke coated the back of her throat. Noah’s chest rose and fell evenly. Josie went into the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water, then sucked some of it down her throat, drinking directly from the faucet. There was a small tube of toothpaste along with several items in a small plastic yellow bin on one of the bathroom shelves. She used her index finger to rub some of it along her teeth.

She emerged to find Laura standing over Noah’s bed, holding one of his hands and stroking his hair, her giant belly pressed against the bedrail. She looked up when Josie came in. “You’re here.”

“I’ve been here all night,” Josie said, trying not to sound defensive.

“What the hell is going on, Josie?” Laura asked. Tears glistened in her eyes.

Before Josie could answer, Grady walked in with a cup carrier filled with four paper coffee cups, and sugar and creamer packets stuffed into the center. Immediately, he approached Josie, pecking her on the cheek and handing her a cup from the carrier. “I’m so sorry to hear what happened,” he said. “We’re so glad you two are okay.” He looked at Noah as he set the rest of the cups down on the tray table. “Well, not completely okay, but alive.”

Tears streamed down Laura’s face. “I can’t do this. Whatever this is, whatever’s happening, it needs to stop.”