The Bones She Buried: A completely gripping, heart-stopping crime thriller(77)

As if on cue, an old Toyota Camry rolled down the street, stopping behind Josie’s vehicle. “Don’t worry,” Josie said as Sergeant Dan Lamay stepped out. To Lamay she called, “Did you bring it?”

“Sure did, boss.” Lamay limped along on his bad knee to the trunk which he popped open. Reaching inside, he pulled out a metal detector.

Gretchen gave Josie a smile of admiration. Chitwood said, “What if she didn’t hide this thing—whatever the hell it is—in something metal? You ever think of that, Quinn?”

“Sir,” Josie answered. “If she didn’t then we’ll have to dig up the whole yard, but if she did bury it in something metal, and Lamay can locate it, then we only have to dig up one spot.”

Chitwood shook his head but ambled up the walkway. “Let’s hope they let us do this,” he mumbled. “Cause I don’t think I can get a warrant for something this goddamn vague.”

In the fifteen minutes that Bob Chitwood was inside the house, Josie had a barrage of second thoughts about sending him in to ask the homeowner to let them dig in their yard. Chitwood was the least personable of them all. He even chafed easygoing Noah. But he emerged with a grin on his face, waving to Lamay and telling him to “hurry the hell up.” To the rest of them, he said, “Get your asses moving. We’ve got a lot of work to do today.”





Fifty-Four





Two and a half hours later, they had Ivan Ulrich in one interrogation room and Zachary Sutton in another. Neither of them knew the other man was being questioned. In a strange twist, Sutton had given the team the most trouble about coming in and demanded they call his lawyer before he would even leave his office, while Ivan Ulrich agreed to drive to the Denton police station with Josie and Gretchen with no questions asked. In fact, the only thing he had asked them was, “Can I get my wallet?” Now, he sat peacefully at the table, sipping at the coffee Josie had offered him. He was definitely burly and well-muscled as both Colette’s neighbor and Earl Butler had described. His bald head gleamed beneath the fluorescent lights. Beneath fathomless dark eyes, his nose looked permanently smashed in. Black and gray whiskers stubbled his chin. He had a hard face and a flat affect. Josie could see why Sutton would want to use him as muscle. Although he had been pleasant and cooperative with Josie and Gretchen, she could easily see him turning intimidating and frightening.

A woman’s voice carried down the hallway. Josie recognized it at once as Laura Fraley-Hall’s before she turned the corner with Chitwood at her back. “This is some kind of joke, right?” she said indignantly. “I mean, this has to be a joke. I know you’re not suggesting that you want to question me in relation to my own mother’s murder case. What the hell kind of department are you running here?”

Chitwood shook his head. “Relax. My detective here, Palmer, just needs to ask you some questions.”

Laura rested her hands on her enormous belly. “You can’t treat me like this,” she went on. “I’m about to give birth.”

“Hey,” Chitwood snapped. “I can do whatever the h—”

Gretchen cut him off. “Hi Laura. Thanks for coming. This isn’t an interrogation. In fact, why don’t we go back downstairs? There’s a conference room down there that’s pretty comfortable. Right down the hall we’ve got some snacks. I can get you something to eat or drink or send the Chief out to get you whatever you want. Are you hungry?”

Laura bristled but seemed to calm down a bit, her posture loosening. Chitwood glared at Gretchen but kept quiet. To Gretchen, Laura said, “Thank you. Maybe some decaf tea and crackers.”

Gretchen glanced pointedly at Chitwood whose face turned beet red. Still, he spun on his heel and walked off to fulfill Laura’s request.

Laura said, “I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

Josie said, “I’m so sorry, Laura. It’s just that there have been some developments in your mom’s case. We really need your help is all.”

“Yeah,” Gretchen added. “Sorry about the Chief. He can be really abrasive sometimes.”

Laura laughed. “Oh, well, that’s the nicest word for dickhead I’ve ever heard.”

Josie couldn’t stop the bark of laughter that escaped her mouth. She sincerely hoped that when this was over, Laura would be exonerated and they could form some type of real relationship. One where Laura wasn’t trying to keep Josie from her brother. But for now they had to play Chitwood’s foils. He was bad cop; they were good cop.

In the conference room, they waited until Laura was settled in one of the comfy leather spin chairs with her tea and crackers in front of her before they started asking questions.

Gretchen began with, “You told Detective Quinn that you’d never heard of a man named Ivan, is that right?”

“Correct. Why do you ask?”

“So the name Ivan Ulrich doesn’t mean anything to you?”

Laura’s eyes were wide and blank. “No, should it? Is that the name of my mother’s childhood friend?”

Josie said, “Yes, and the name of a security consultant who has been retained by Sutton Stone Enterprises since 1983.”

Confusion crinkled Laura’s brow. “A security consultant? What do you mean? We have an outfit we contract with for site security. I can give you their information.”