The Last Sister (Columbia River)(52)

“But why Nate?”

The saw stopped, and the silence was a balm to Zander’s hearing. Seth lifted the cranial cap as if it were the most delicate glass. In a way, it was. The doctor had managed to contain the cracks in the cap, but a few puzzle pieces of the skull had been dislocated adjacent to the exit hole. Fierce concentration shone in his eyes as he gently set the large piece aside.

Zander held his breath for several long seconds as he followed the doctor’s movements, Ava’s question buzzing in his brain. “Nate must have seen something he shouldn’t have at the Fitch murders—even if he wasn’t aware of it,” he replied. “Or Nate was seen at the murders. Did anyone go farther into the woods behind the Fitch house? Maybe someone was watching when Nate arrived.”

“I think I read that the woods were checked a bit. I doubt they looked very hard.”

Based on the sloppy work Zander had seen that morning, he agreed. “Okay. We need to take another look at the property. What else?”

“Do we need to go over the Fitch autopsy reports with Seth?” Ava asked. “I saw his final report in my in-box, but I haven’t opened it yet. He talked to you about preliminary findings. Have you discussed anything else?”

“No. But he was going to check to see if Sean fathered Lindsay’s baby. We can ask if that is done.” Zander glanced back as Seth weighed the brain. “He’s almost finished.”

After the brain had been examined and the samples removed, all the organs were typically placed in a plastic bag and returned to the empty chest cavity. Then the ribs were replaced and the Y incision stitched closed.

Seth returned to the cranial cap and lifted it with precision gentleness. There were two notches on the edges, sawed by the doctor to line the cap back up in position on the skull and keep it in place. With skill and caution, he set it in, and his eyes crinkled in pleasure.

“That will do,” he said with satisfaction to the assistant, who’d watched the process with concern. The two of them efficiently stretched the scalp back over the cap. “You got it from here?” Seth asked. She nodded and picked up a curved needle to stitch the scalp back together.

The doctor took a few seconds to study Copeland’s face. With the jaw closed, there was no visible sign of the bullet hole in the palate. Seth rested a gloved hand on the officer’s shoulder and took a deep breath.

After a long moment, he turned to Zander and Ava, and gestured for them to follow him to the other side of the room, away from Nate Copeland. Seth’s expression was all business. “You had wanted to know if Sean had fathered his wife’s baby. I got the lab results back, and he is the father.”

Something relaxed in Zander’s chest. It didn’t mean Lindsay wasn’t having an affair with Billy Osburne, but it eliminated a possible minor motivation.

“But Lindsay and Sean wouldn’t know that was a fact if she was sleeping with Billy Osburne,” said Ava.

Shit. She’s right. The motivation couldn’t be crossed off the list.

“We need to find Osburne,” Zander said.

“I want to look at the property behind the Fitch home first. Billy Osburne second.”

Zander agreed.





21

It was well past lunchtime by the time Zander and Ava returned to the coast from their visit to the medical examiner’s office. They had hit a Dairy Queen drive-through on their route back, and the SUV still smelled of french fries.

It was a better scent than in the medical examiner’s building.

“Straight to the Fitch house?” Zander asked.

“No time like the present.”

The sheriff hadn’t found Billy Osburne and was getting frustrated. Even over the phone, Zander heard it in his voice.

He took the narrow winding road to the Fitch location, feeling a sense of déjà vu. A lot had happened over the two and a half days since he had been there last. The road turned to gravel, and the homes grew farther apart. He spotted the Fitch house and parked on the road’s shoulder. The two of them studied the small white ranch in silence. Behind the house, tall firs swayed, shedding needles and small branches.

“Windy,” Ava commented.

“I wouldn’t live with trees of that size near my house.”

“Hell no.” She leaned forward and pointed at low bushes a dozen yards from their vehicle. “Look.”

Several bikes lay on their sides, partly hidden by the greenery.

“Kids.” Annoyance had Zander immediately opening his door. Kids would be curious and snoop around a crime scene; that was a natural instinct at that age. But he’d have to be the bad guy and chase them off. He counted four bikes, each in a different stage of wear and tear.

Nostalgia enveloped him. A bike and a deep inquisitiveness had sent him and his childhood friends on many adventures. They were fearless, convinced that their world was open to exploration. The more prohibited the location, the more exciting. The fenced-off electrical station behind the middle school. The barn with the caved-in roof on the neighboring property. The row of rotten-smelling dumpsters behind the strip mall.

Three locations that would distress their parents—which made them powerful kid magnets.

“At least they’re outside and not playing video games.”

Zander snorted. “I’ll grab a couple of flashlights from the back.” He popped the rear hatch and grabbed two small LED units. It wasn’t dark, but the gray clouds cast a pall. It would be hard to see in the shadows of the forest.