Play dead

TWENTY-FIVE

Byrne walked to his car, his heart and mind abuzz with the events of the past hour. He still really didn't know what this lunch date with his wife was all about, but he wasn't going to overanalyze it.

Who was he kidding? Besides being one of his most annoying personality quirks, overanalyzing was pretty much what he did for a living.

He took out his phone, fired it up, wincing immediately at the possibility of a dozen angry messages waiting for him. You were never supposed to be completely out of touch with the unit, even if you were off duty, especially if you had active investigations. But in this age of cellular communications, and all its attendant glitches, there was always an excuse.

I couldn't get a signal.

My battery was low.

I had it on Silent.

As soon as the phone went through its boot-up process and found a tower, he got an e-mail. It was from Colleen. She'd sent him the photograph she'd taken in the lobby. It completed his day.

Seconds later his phone rang. Byrne looked at the display. It was Jessica. Even her name looked pissed off. He flipped open the phone, went for bright and cheerful.

"Hey!"

"So now you turn your phone off?"

Busted. "I'll explain," Byrne said. "Where are you?"

"Shiloh Street."

"Shiloh Street?" Byrne was a little surprised, a lot intrigued. "Why?"

"We've got a body. Female, mid-teens."

Shit. "Warm or cold?"

"Cold," Jessica said. "Been here for months."

"Inside the house?"

"Yep."

"Where was she?"

"Remember that rug in the basement?" Jessica asked.

"Yeah."

"CSU rolled it up and found a hole cut into the floor. An access hole to the crawlspace."

"She was in the crawlspace?"

"In the crawlspace."

"Any ID on the victim?"

"I haven't been able to confirm it, but my gut tells me we do."

"Why is that?"

"She's wearing the same jewelry as the girl whose picture we found in that Bible."

Byrne's stomach, and mind, began to revolve. This was starting to reach deeper, and further, than he had imagined. And he had imagined something pretty bad. "Go on."

"About an hour ago we got the Missing Person info, so we have a name, but the body is decomposed to the point where a visual ID isn't possible. We're going to have to get dental. Still, I think the clothes and jewelry are a slam."

"We have a COD?"

"We won't know that for a while, but I can make a fairly informed guess," Jessica said.

"What do you mean?"

A moment's hesitation. "You don't want to know."

"It's kinda my job."

Byrne heard his partner clear her throat. It was her usual stall. "She's in pieces, Kevin. In boxes."

"Christ."

"There are three wooden boxes in the crawlspace, but there are only remains in two of them. One box is empty. The one in the middle. And they're painted. Red, blue, and yellow."

"The same colors as those marks in the Bible."

"Yep."

Byrne closed his eyes, recalled the girl in the photograph. She looked so young, so vulnerable. He'd had hopes. Not great hopes, but hopes. "And this is ours?"

"It is."

Byrne took out his notebook, noted the time. "Hit me."

"Presumptively, the victim's name is Monica Louise Renzi," Jessica said, spelling the first and last name. "She was sixteen. From Scranton. Missing for just over six months. Dino and Eric are on the way up just in case."

Jessica was talking about Nick Palladino and Eric Chavez, two experienced detectives from the homicide unit. "Okay."

"This is developing hard and fast, partner," Jessica said. "Ike is down here, and word is that the captain is on his way. Nobody's smoking and everyone's buttoned up. Sarge said he called you three times." Shit.

"Which one are you going to use?" Jessica asked.

Byrne had to think about it. He didn't want to repeat himself. "I had my phone on silent."

"I like that one," Jessica said. "Get here as fast as you can."

"I'm on the way," Byrne said. He headed toward his car. "One more question for you. Why is this ours again?"

Jessica took a second-a telling second that, between people who know each other well, spoke volumes. Then came the four words Byrne dreaded hearing.

"She was a runaway."