Cut and Run(67)
“Yeah.” Garnet swallowed, ready to sell his soul to get out of this alive. “Look, there’s a bag by the door. It’s got the down payment cash from the sale of the baby.”
“I noticed that while you were unconscious.”
“Take it. Take the girl. Sell the baby and leave me.”
“Where is the girl?”
Lies sprang to mind, but Garnet chased them away. “There’s a house in town. Not five miles from here. I have a basement room.”
“How far along is she?”
“Less than a week from delivery.”
“I need an address.” He pulled out a pencil and paper. “Ready when you are, Mr. Garnet.”
Garnet rattled off the address.
“See? None of this was hard. And I really enjoyed chatting with you.” The man ground out the cigarette on the bottom of his boot and then pocketed the butt.
Without warning, the hammer landed on Garnet’s kneecap. As he opened his mouth to scream, the man shoved a bar cloth into it, muffling the sound. The man waited patiently as Garnet sucked in a breath through flaring nostrils. For several minutes the world shrank away, and it was just him, the pain, and this crazy motherfucker ready to beat him to death.
The man studied the hammer and its gore as if it were a piece of artwork. “I want you to understand that technically this is business, but honestly, I like hurting people. Especially my best friend.”
Olivia Martin, 1988
My name is Olivia Martin. I’ve read all of Josie’s words so many times that I’ve memorized them. I hear Josie’s voice inside my head, especially when I can’t sleep and the baby is kicking. I am so afraid. I want out of this box. I want to live. I don’t want you to read this after I’m dead. But I know the chances of living get slimmer every day.
Things I like. “Tell It to My Heart” by Taylor Dayne. “Wild, Wild West” by The Escape Club. Chocolate. Sunshine. The feel of grass. My mom’s burned spaghetti sauce.
Things I Hate. The streets. Cold weather. Loud cars. Vitamins. Beasts that smile.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Thursday, June 28, 7:35 a.m.
Faith was able to speak to the principal at Kat’s high school and get the girl reinstated. Kat wasn’t happy about it, but Faith wasn’t trying to win a popularity contest with the girl. Kat might have had more innate intelligence than her teachers, but if she didn’t graduate high school, there was no chance she’d go to college. If there ever was a kid who could thrive with a degree, it was her.
Faith’s next stop was again the hospital, though this visit was quick because she had to get back to the autopsy suite. The first set of skeletal remains would be delivered today.
When she arrived at the medical examiner’s office and passed by the break room, Nancy held up a fresh cup of coffee for her, which Faith gratefully accepted.
Knowing her possible connection to the case would come up sooner or later, Faith said, “There is a possibility this set of remains belongs to my birth mother.”
Nancy stood stock straight for a moment as she processed what Faith had said. “How can that be?”
She could feel the foundation of her life rumbling and shaking. “I’m not exactly sure how all the pieces fit together. And when I do know how, I’ll explain it all to you.”
Nancy studied her. “You going to be okay?”
“Don’t worry about me. Give me five minutes to change, and I’ll meet you in the exam room.”
Faith changed into scrubs and ten minutes later pushed through the swinging doors of the exam room. Nancy stood at the head of a sheet-covered gurney.
Nancy tossed one last quizzical glance at Faith, who didn’t blink, and gently pulled back the sheet.
The skeletal remains were laid out in anatomical order, with the skull at her right and followed by rib bones, vertebrae, pelvis, femurs, and feet bones.
The bones were brown and brittle and looked as if they had been buried for years. Younger bones had a greasy feel and were sometimes referred to as green.
She stood beside the skull and stared into the sightless eye sockets. As she reexamined the skull’s facial structure, she affirmed the individual had been Caucasian. Josie’s mug shot showed she’d had a narrow face and high cheekbones, characteristics consistent with this skull. “I could take a snapshot of the skull and superimpose it over the picture I have of her.”
“How many images do you have of the woman you have in mind?” Nancy asked.
“Two.”
“Three would be better. The more angles we have for comparison, the better.”
“I know. I’m looking for a quick affirmative to an identification that might take weeks.”
“Mind if I do the preliminary evaluation?” Nancy said. “You can check behind me to confirm.”
“Sure.”
Nancy cradled the skull in her hands. “The molar teeth are intact, which is a good thing. If we can extract DNA, the lab can test for mitochondrial DNA, which can be cross-checked against your DNA, Faith.”
“It’s a longer process, but accurate,” Faith said.
Nancy set the skull down gently and examined the lower vertebrae, searching for breaks, nicks, or fractures. She retrieved a magnifying glass and examined the ribs, again looking for signs of trauma. The thrust of a knife or blunt force could leave marks on the bone, but the cursory examination revealed no trauma.