The Bones She Buried

Forty-Eight

Josie took a shower before she went to the station house, washing off the booze, sweat and shame of the night before. She had to keep her focus on the task at hand. She had a new lead in the Fraley/Pratt case, and she needed to get on it. She left Trinity at her house. As promised, Trinity’s assistant had brought Josie’s vehicle back to Denton and parked it in her driveway. On the way to the station house she called Noah, but he didn’t answer. She didn’t leave a message.

Gretchen was at her desk, tapping away at her computer.

Josie sat down across from her. “Did you guys interview Ivan Ulrich?”

“He wasn’t home. Bellewood put a unit on his apartment for us. As soon as he shows up, they’ll call.”

“Did you look up Craig Bridges?”

Gretchen nodded. “Yeah. He’s been missing since 1990.”

“What do you mean? What happened?”

Gretchen looked down at her desk where her notepad sat. “I searched every database I could and then the internet. Through the databases I found out that he had been living in Hagerstown, Maryland although he used to live in Pennsylvania—near Bellewood actually. He seemed to drop off the face of the earth in 1990, but I couldn’t find any evidence that he was deceased, so I checked NamUs.”

NamUs was the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System. “What did you get?”

Gretchen handed her a printout. “I also called the Hagerstown PD to get some of the details. They had to pull the file cause it’s so old.”

As Josie studied the sparse details in the NamUs report, her body went cold. “This can’t be right.”

“Creepy, right?” Gretchen agreed. “But I talked to Hagerstown PD. Craig Bridges drove to the bank of the Potomac River, left his personal possessions in his locked car and disappeared. He hasn’t been seen since.”

“Friends? Family?” Josie asked.

“Hagerstown PD said that he had a roommate and that was it, but apparently he and Bridges were very close. They said every couple of years the roommate calls to see if any work has been done on the file.”

“No signs of foul play?”

“None. Plus, Bridges was an alcoholic with a history of depression. So that doesn’t help. If his body had ever been found, there’s a good chance it would have been ruled a suicide.”

“Basically the same circumstances as Samuel Pratt,” Josie said. “What’s the roommate’s name? Is he still alive? Did you try to get in touch with him?”

Gretchen nodded. “He is still alive. His name is Earl Butler. He moved to Fairfield in Lenore County after Bridges disappeared.”

“That’s only an hour south of here,” Josie said.

“Yeah, I tried calling the number I could find for him twice, but there was no answer so I called the local PD and had them do a welfare check. Door’s locked, no answer, no signs that anything is wrong.”

Josie felt a sick stirring in her stomach. “I’m going to drive down there.”

“And do what?” Gretchen said.

“So far this guy—or these guys—have killed Colette, Beth Pratt, Brody Wolicki and tried to kill Mason Pratt. They’ve burned down two houses. They know who we’re going to talk to before we ever even get there. I’m not wasting one more second before making sure that Earl Butler is alive and well. You stay here—Mettner will need you once Ivan Ulrich shows up. Did Sutton’s people send you over any records?”

“No, not yet.”

Josie pulled a scrap of paper out of her jeans. “This is the name and number of the woman who works at the off-site storage facility. Sutton gave it to me in case we didn’t hear from his people before the end of the day.”

Gretchen took it. “I’ll give her a call. Maybe Mettner and I will even take a ride down there while I’m waiting to hear back from Bellewood PD about our friend Ivan.”

“Let me know if anything breaks.”