Chapter 5 #3
Was she purposely trying to piss him off? “That the killer is male is the predominant view in the investigation,” he clarified. “Male or female, bottom line, the people in this community are God-fearing, compassionate, and trusting. Maybe that makes us easy targets, but that’s the way we are.”
She shifted her attention to the deserted road that lay before them. “I’ll let you know in a few days just how compassionate your friends and neighbors are.”
Give it up. Don’t argue. She was from New York. Trying to convince her that the world outside the Big Apple was different was a waste of time. Just drive.
The right onto Chapel Trail led them deep into the woods.
The canopy of trees blocked the noonday sun, and the dirt road narrowed the farther they traveled.
Evergreens far outnumbered the hardwoods, ensuring the thick mass of trees was mostly green, even in the dead of winter.
The lesser-numbered hardwoods were tall and broad with age and bare of leaves.
A few weeks from now they would bud, heralding the official arrival of spring as marked on the calendar.
But New England springs returned a bit more sluggishly than most. Still, when the worst of winter passed, life changed dramatically in Maine.
It was like a resurrection. Of both activity and spirit.
“Any houses back here?”
“Only one on this road. It’s at the other end.
” Kale gestured straight ahead. “Through the woods in that direction”—he hitched his thumb left—“is Beauchamp Road. It runs parallel to this one but doesn’t connect.
There are seven or eight houses along that private road.
” He shot her a knowing glance. “The big houses next to the water.”
“Rich folks,” she offered.
“Very rich.”
As he caught sight of the crime-scene tape ahead, his foot touched the brake.
The tape fluttered in the cold wind, waving its too-familiar colors like a caution light between the trees.
That tightening sensation he suffered each morning on awakening and remembering the ugliness that had descended upon his hometown took hold of his chest now.
Who would have done such a thing? Couldn’t be any of the people he had grown up with.
Not possible. He didn’t care what anyone thought or said.
Unlike some of the older folks he’d heard talking, he didn’t really believe in curses or legends.
This wasn’t the work of the devil. The person responsible for this was out there somewhere.
All they had to do was find the bastard.
Whatever he believed to be the truth, he wasn’t about to disrespect those who believed otherwise—as his passenger made her living doing. However the facts lined up, folks had a right to their own spiritual viewpoint, religious or otherwise.
The path that led up to the chapel was too narrow and steep for a vehicle. He parked in the designated area along the side of the road and was about to explain the reason when Newton hopped out and headed up the path.
Stay calm and focused, he reminded himself as he emerged from the Jeep. Do the job. Keep the peace. The less controversy, the less likely the media was to latch on to Newton’s presence here. He knew all too well what a circus this tragedy would turn into if that happened.
Problem was, he didn’t see how keeping this quiet was possible, considering the lady’s reputation.
She appeared to piss off just about everybody she met wherever she went.
There was an arrogance about her. He hadn’t decided yet if it was real or just a defense mechanism.
Didn’t really matter. The end result was the same.
He followed the route she’d taken. As brisk as the air was today, he could still smell the death permeating the area. He understood that it was his imagination, but his gut seized just the same.
“Stay between the lines of tape,” he called after Newton.
“I’ve done this before, Mr. Conner,” she tossed back over her shoulder without slowing her progress. That big black shoulder bag bounced against her hip.
With her moving upward and well ahead of him, he had a decent view of her lean hips. Nicely rounded. A runner’s butt. He’d suspected as much. A woman didn’t get legs like that any other way.
Way to go, Kale. Get distracted with the lady’s ass. Step right on your dick.
He berated himself and stalked after her.
The area had been thoroughly searched for evidence by the state forensic team.
Though that part of the investigation was officially completed and a guard was no longer posted to preserve the scene, the tape had remained out of respect for the victim’s family.
The villagers wanted it that way. They wanted visible evidence of the investigation continuing until the killer was found.
The tape discouraged entrance into the chapel, but the small open-air structure was easily viewed from any side without crossing that line. Bare of leaves and blooms, the vines crept around its perimeter, except for the end where they’d been trimmed back for viewing the ocean.
“Give me some history, Conner.”
Surely she’d researched the scene of the crime. Maybe she wanted the local folklore. That was something she’d have to dig up on her own. He’d given her all of that he intended to give.
“In 1885 Gracie Kingsley persuaded her husband to build this chapel in memory of their daughter who died at age sixteen of what’s believed to have been complications from pneumonia. Mrs. Kingsley proclaimed this the Chapel of the Innocents.”
“‘To all the innocent ones who pass through this world,’” Newton recited.
Oh, yeah. She’d done her research. That line was emblazoned upon the plaque at the end of the chapel that overlooked the ocean, but she couldn’t possibly read it from where they stood.
“The chapel is used for weddings and family reunions,” he went on. The last Conner family reunion had been held here. “Basically all kinds of gatherings. Most tourists end up out here sometime during their stay.”
“To get a glimpse of the bride they claim wanders the cliffs on summer nights?”
So she’d learned about that one, too.
When he didn’t comment, she added, “They say her veil floats around her whether or not there’s a breeze.”
“That’s what they say,” he admitted grudgingly.
As if that bride had abruptly appeared and slapped his face, the chilly air stung his cheeks.
He shivered. Cold as hell out here. The image of Valerie Gerard lying on that cold stone floor kept appearing in his head, reminding him of the horror that had taken place here.
His internal thermometer plunged several more degrees.
“She walks the cliffs looking for the groom who never showed.” Newton peered toward the ocean and the cliffs of which she spoke.
Was that wistfulness he heard in her voice? He considered the woman. Nah. Not this tough-as-nails chick.
He guessed that setting the record straight would be the right thing to do.
“According to village history, when her groom didn’t show, she climbed down the hillside, walked through the woods, and went straight into the ocean.
Her body washed up the next day.” He’d heard that story his whole life, but he’d never seen the lady in the white wedding dress.
And he’d been up here plenty of times, usually with a girl.
That was another thing this chapel was known for, a make-out spot.
“Fact or fiction? I doubt anyone really knows,” Newton muttered, her attention seemingly still lingering on the cliffs.
“Stories like that have a way of surviving through the generations,” Kale suggested, hoping to stay in that neutral zone. Some folks believed the stories, others didn’t. “It’s hard to say what’s fact and what’s fiction.” The one certainty was that most of the tales were embellished over time.
Newton suddenly faced him. “Twenty years ago the bodies of two young women were found here. You have any facts on that case?”
“Some.” The chief had briefed the council on any possible similarities between Valerie’s murder and the ones twenty years ago. “Other than location, there are no real similarities. But we’re not ruling—”
Newton lifted the tape and ducked under it.
“Hey, you can’t do that.” What the hell was she thinking?
She turned back to him and gave her head a little shake. “Don’t get your boxers in a wad, Conner. This scene’s no longer officially sealed.”
“But—”
“We’re alone.” She sounded distracted now, as if she was totally focused on the place and could care less what he said or did. “No one will ever know unless you tell.” She walked slowly around the perimeter of the stone floor, seemed to study every crack and crevice.
“Damn it.” Short of physically hauling her back over to this side of the tape, what was he supposed to do?
She glanced at him. “Relax, Conner. I know what I’m doing. I’m not breaking any laws.”
He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He surveyed what he could see of the road, listened for traffic.
If Chief Willard found out he’d allowed her to cross this line, he would be in a shitload of trouble.
Whether the techs were finished here or not, it was the principle of the thing.
Oh, yeah, how had he forgotten? This lady had no principles.
“You have pictures of how the body was positioned?” Newton pointed to the center of the stone floor where the darkened bloodstains remained.
Kale struggled to keep the frustration out of his tone. “The chief has a complete file on the case.” How did she think they did business up here? “We could go—”
“Have you seen them?” She looked at him when she asked the question. Really looked. As if she was watching for a certain reaction.
He nodded.
“What did you see?”