The Bones She Buried

Forty-Six

The pounding in Josie’s head was like a jackhammer. She opened one eye, but the sunlight streaming into the room was like a thousand spikes in her cornea. She threw an arm across her face. The room. What room was she in? She peeked over her arm, looking around at unfamiliar surroundings. Her mind worked to orient itself. From beside her came the sound of a sigh. She turned her head to see a man’s bare back. She knew instantly it was Luke, although she didn’t remember going to bed with him.

She tossed the covers off her, swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, one of her hands pressed against her left temple. The room tipped to the side, and the throbbing in her head was so intense she could barely breathe. She tried to remember how long it had been since she was well and truly hungover. A long time, she realized. She looked down at herself. She still wore her underwear and the tank top she’d had on under her clothes.

Groaning softly, she stood, dizziness assailing her. Holding on to the bed to steady herself, she fished her jeans and polo shirt off the floor and pulled them on. For a moment, she stared at Luke’s sleeping form, trying desperately to remember the night before. She remembered leaving, coming back, and doing shots. She vaguely remembered opening the bottle of wine while they watched television in the living room. She remembered laughing. That was it. Dropping to her knees, she swiped a hand beneath the bed, hoping to find her sneakers. Had she kicked them off downstairs?

The sound of tires over gravel outside caused nausea to roil in her stomach. She opened the bedroom door and nearly fell on her face. Blue lay across the threshold on the other side. The dog’s mournful eyes glanced up at her, but he didn’t move. Josie looked from the dog back into the room. A large tan dog bed lay at the foot of the bed. Why had Luke shut Blue out in the hallway? Josie didn’t want to think about it. She stepped over the dog and raced down the stairs just as she heard footsteps creaking on the porch. Her shoes were in the living room. She pushed her feet into them, snatched her keys and cell phone from the kitchen table and flung the front door open, expecting Carrieann but instead finding her twin sister, Trinity Payne.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Josie said. She raised a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sunlight and the spears it poked all the way into the back of her head.

Trinity stood with her hands on her hips, looking stylish in a pair of tight jeans, knee-high brown leather boots and a clingy cashmere sweater cinched with a belt around her waist. But her face was pinched and angry. “Nice hair,” Trinity remarked.

Josie reached up and patted down one side of her brown hair, feeling the tangles catch against her fingertips. “Why are you here?” Josie said. “And how the hell did you find me?”

Trinity waved a hand in front of her face, her nose wrinkling. “My God, your breath.” She leaned in and sniffed at Josie. “Wild Turkey again, huh?”

Josie put a hand on her own hip and eyed Trinity head-on. “I asked you a question.”

Trinity spun on her heel and started walking back out to the driveway. “Get in the car, Josie.”

Josie stood and watched as a young woman emerged from the Lexus Trinity had arrived in. Trinity said something to her, and she looked over at Josie.

“Now, Josie,” Trinity said.

Josie trudged down the porch steps and into the driveway. Trinity took her keys from her hand and gave them to the young woman. “This is my assistant. She’ll drive your car back to Denton. You’re coming with me.”

Josie felt too sick to argue. The bumpy ride out to the road gave her the dry heaves. Trinity pulled open a small door on the top of the center console and took out a pack of gum which she tossed into Josie’s lap. Then she pointed to the glove compartment and said, “There’s some ibuprofen in there. Take it.”

It took three tries to get the childproof cap off. Josie swallowed three pills dry and popped a piece of gum in her mouth. She closed her eyes and waited for Trinity to explain herself. It didn’t take long.

“What is wrong with you?” Trinity began. “You barely escape a fire, and I have to find out from one of my local press contacts? Josie, this is not how you treat family.”

Without opening her eyes, Josie muttered, “I didn’t ‘barely escape’.”

“Oh really? How did you get out of the house?”

Sheepishly, Josie admitted, “I jumped out the window.”

Trinity made a sound of exasperation.

“Don’t you have to be in New York City for work?” Josie said.

“I took a personal day. My contact at WYEP called me late last night. She told me there was a lot of suspicious stuff happening in Denton; Beth Pratt dying; her house burning to the ground. Then she said, ‘Oh yeah, some police detective’s mom’s house burned down.’ So I looked into it and found out it was Noah’s mom’s house. I called you but you didn’t answer. Then I called the station. Talked to Sergeant Lamay who told me the whole story. I called you again. No answer. I called Noah and guess what he told me? That you two were taking time apart and that he didn’t know where you were. Then guess what I did?”

“You called me again,” Josie said with a sigh. “How did you find out I was here?”

“Gretchen. She said you were supposed to come home last night, but you didn’t. She sent a unit to your house. You weren’t there.”

Josie felt the sting of a punch on her shoulder. “Ow,” she said, opening her eyes finally. Guilt assailed her when she saw the tears glistening in Trinity’s eyes. “I didn’t wait thirty years to find my sister to have you die on me in the middle of the damn woods.”

“I wasn’t in any danger,” Josie said.

“But I didn’t know that. I would ask why you didn’t answer your phone, but it’s pretty obvious.”

Josie was going to defend herself but then realized there was no defense. Shame already burned her cheeks. She had acted irresponsibly—so irresponsibly she didn’t even know what happened the night before. She took out her phone and looked at the time. It was nine a.m. so there was still time to salvage the day. Maybe Chitwood wouldn’t have her ass in a sling after all. At least he wasn’t one of the two dozen missed calls and texts. Her heart stopped momentarily when she saw a call from Noah received late the night before. Probably after Trinity called him.

She put her phone back into her pocket and put her head in her hands. After a moment, she heard Trinity sigh and felt a manicured hand squeeze her shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” she said softly.

“Will it?” Josie croaked. Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton.

Trinity squeezed her shoulder again and then without looking away from the road, she reached behind Josie’s seat and grabbed her purse. She put it in Josie’s lap. “I’ve got something that will cheer you up.”

Josie raised a brow. “A Coach purse? Not really my style.”

Trinity rolled her eyes. “Just look in there. There’s an envelope. Open it.”

Josie riffled through the contents of Trinity’s purse until she found an unmarked white envelope. She slipped her index finger under the sealed edge and opened it. Inside were several small photos, no more than three by five inches. They were all yellowed and faded, but Josie recognized the faces in the first one immediately—their parents, Christian and Shannon Payne. They were over thirty years younger, thinner, and much less gray, and they beamed at the camera. Each of them held a baby swaddled in a blanket. The other photos were of the babies, their little pink faces peeking out from their bundles. Tears stung Josie’s eyes as her breath caught in her throat.

“It’s us,” she said. “Where did you get these? I thought everything was destroyed in the fire.”

“It was,” Trinity said. “But Mom had a roll of film that she had taken to the Photomat to be developed when our house burned down and we were separated. She remembered a few weeks after the fire. She’s kept them in a safe deposit box ever since because these were the only photos she ever had of you.”

“Of the two of us together,” Josie said.

“Yes. She gave them to me when she was in New York last weekend. I had them scanned so now there are digital copies, but I wanted you to see the originals. You can keep them.”

Josie clutched them to her chest. “Thank you.”

Her heart felt full. As quickly as she had spiraled out of control, Trinity was reeling her back in and grounding her. This was what it felt like to have a real family. Maybe Trinity was right. It would be okay. There might even be a way to solve this awful case before anyone else was killed. Her mind turned to practical matters. She’d have to call Gretchen when her headache subsided a bit and see if she had managed to narrow down her list of Ivans. She’d also have to check in with Mettner to see if he’d had any luck with the hunting and sports retailers and getting a list of customers who had bought size eleven Coyote Run boots. Her fingers stroked the brittle edges of the photographs as she tried to tamp down her disappointment over losing the belt buckle lead. Poor Brody Wolicki. He was just living his life peacefully in his small wooded cabin with no idea at all that he had something a killer wanted to keep secret.

She pulled the photos away from her chest and stared at them again. Her mother had missed her for thirty long years with nothing but these few photographs to sustain her.

“Oh my God,” Josie said suddenly.

Quickly, she tucked the photos back into the envelope. She touched Trinity’s forearm. “Turn around,” she said. “Turn around right now.”

“What are you talking about?” Trinity said.

Josie took out her cell phone and dialed Heather Loughlin. As the phone rang, she said, “Just go back the way we came and I’ll tell you how to get there. I need to get back to the Wolicki scene.”