What Have We Done (69)

“Who is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you know? You came all the way here for a reason.”

The FBI agent retrieves his phone, shows a photo to Donnie. It’s a skeleton, displayed on a sheet or blanket. The agent swipes his finger and there’s a close-up of the skull, which has a hole in the forehead the size of a quarter with hairline cracks shooting out from its circumference. He swipes again and there are five shell casings that appear to be covered with mud or dirt.

“Damn, who’s that?”

“We’re not sure.”

Donnie shakes his head, puts on his best poker face.

“We had our computer forensic team do a deep dive into Judge Wood’s computer—his phone’s still missing—and they found these photos.”

Donnie tries not to react, but his thoughts trip to what Mia told him: Someone was blackmailing him.

“I don’t understand,” he tells Rodriguez. “Maybe it was from one of his cases or somethin’.”

“We considered that. But there was a message with the pictures. It said there’s DNA from the victim’s teeth and the gun and Ben could purchase it for one hundred K and help fix a case. Two days after receiving these photos, Judge Wood withdrew one hundred thousand dollars from his account.”

Donnie shrugs, tries to look befuddled. “His wife’s rich, so that’s not a lot of money to them.”

Agent Rodriguez frowns.

“So you think whoever sent the photos killed him?”

The FBI agent cocks his head. “I don’t know. But that doesn’t make much sense to me. Why kill him? He withdrew the funds, so it looks like he either paid the blackmail or planned to.”

“I’m sorry, boss, but I’m not following ya.”

“You know what I think?” the agent says.

Donnie drains his glass, waits for him to continue.

“I think that Judge Wood did something when he was younger and, given the bones, I can only surmise it was something terrible, and someone knew and was blackmailing him. Maybe others were involved with whatever happened to that skeleton.” He gives Donnie a pointed look.

“Interesting theory.”

“And maybe Judge Wood tried to figure out who was blackmailing him and found something new.

Does Boo Radley mean anything to you?”

“No, why?” Donnie lies.

“No reason,” the agent lies back at him. Obviously, the law clerk told the agent the same thing she told Donnie about Benny’s message.

“You have any idea who was blackmailing him?” Donnie asks.

The agent hesitates, like he’s considering how much to share. “Let’s just say we think we identified a case Judge Wood might have fixed—a highly unusual dismissal of a racketeering charge against a member of the O’Leary family out of the Nicetown neighborhood in Philly. You know anyone from Nicetown?”

Donnie shakes his head.

“And the photo of the bones, well, it was sent from a computer in West Virginia. The URL’s from a computer owned by a TV network.”

Donnie still isn’t following.

Then it hits him hard, like a semitruck barreling down the highway.

Nico.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

NICO

“Where are we going?” Nico asks Jenna as she hides the motorcycle in the tall weeds on a vacant lot a block from Savior House.

“To Mr. Get off My Lawn’s place,” Jenna says.

Nico smiles, remembering all the crazy names they had for the characters in their Chestertown neighborhood. There was Meth Head Ted, who was in dire need of dentistry, Ned Flanders, the guy who was helping Arty with his computer projects, Urkel, the Black guy with thick glasses who worked at the bodega. They had more nicknames for folks than coal miners. Mr. Get off My Lawn was the neighbor across the street from Savior House. A crank who sat on his porch with a perpetual scowl, complained about the group home ruining the neighborhood, threatened them if they so much as stepped a foot on his grass.

They push through a rusted chain-link gate to the backyard, which, like the rest of the neighborhood, is unkempt and half-dead.

Jenna pulls open the screen door, which hangs on only one hinge, then kicks the doorknob, causing the lock to splinter and the door to burst open.

There’s the clicking sound of tiny feet, and Nico shudders as he thinks back to those rats in the mine. The past three days truly have been a surreal disaster.

Jenna sweeps the house for any unwanted tenants, both of the two-and four-legged variety. Then she pries open a board covering the front window, giving them a clear view of Savior House.

“What now?” Nico asks, glancing at his phone. The meeting with Derek Brood isn’t for three hours.

Jenna looks at him like it’s a dumb question: “We wait.”

An hour passes and Nico glances up from his phone and notices Jenna staring at him. He’s already made several bets on DraftKings.

Jenna says, “I have a teenager and she spends less time glued to her phone than you.”

“Um, am I supposed to be doing something else? Forgive me, I don’t know stakeout etiquette.”

Jenna frowns, continues contemplating him. “Can I ask you something?”

Nico shrugs.

“I don’t remember … why were you at Savior House? I mean, what happened to your parents?”