The Bones She Buried

Fifty-Seven

Ivan looked up when Josie and Gretchen came back in. Josie remained standing and leaned over the table, locking eyes with him. “Let’s cut the bullshit, now, Ivan. I know about the mass grave.”

His face went very still as the color drained from it. His mouth worked, but no words came out. Josie, encouraged, pressed on. “In 1974 there was an accident at an employee encampment at the quarry. The newspapers reported that four people died. Their families were compensated. But it wasn’t just four people, was it? It was more than four. Many more. Craig Bridges knew how many people died that night. He witnessed it. That’s why he had nightmares about it for the rest of his life. Nightmares that were worse than what he saw in Vietnam.”

Ivan looked at his lap.

Josie spoke louder. “Colette Fraley found evidence of what really happened the night of the crane accident. She found internal documentation of the cover-up. She knew where the bodies were—all of them—and Colette couldn’t let it go. She had to do something because that’s the kind of person she was. Am I wrong?”

Ivan said nothing.

Josie slapped the table and he jumped. “Colette Fraley saved you from a pedophile priest. She risked both your mothers’ jobs, risked being excommunicated from her beloved church. So when she found out that there was a mass grave on Sutton Stone Enterprises’ property that the Suttons had covered up, she had to act. Am. I. Wrong?”

The air around her seemed charged, and the temperature in the room had gone up at least ten degrees since Josie stormed in. A fine sheen of sweat covered Ivan’s shiny skull. Slowly, his head turned from side to side.

“Say it,” Josie told him.

His words were barely audible. “You’re not wrong.”

“She contacted Craig Bridges. He was the only survivor of that night. I don’t know why he was allowed to live, but the Suttons paid him off, and he went on his way. Until Colette found the documents. Someone found out. Sutton found out. He ordered you to take care of it, so you did. Am I wrong?”

He shook his head again, more quickly this time.

“What did you do?”

He didn’t speak.

“Ivan,” Josie said. “If you ever cared about Colette in your life—if you ever really and truly loved her—you’ll tell the truth. You know that’s what she would want. It was the only thing she wanted. For the truth to be told. You know the truth. I need you to say it. What did you do?”

“I did love her,” he mumbled.

“Then tell the truth. As things stand, Colette looks like some kind of serial killer. She had personal effects of three men who are either missing or dead hidden in her home. We know that she met with Samuel Pratt at least twice, and we know she met with Drew Pratt on the day he went missing. Is this what you want? For Colette to be remembered as a killer? Do you want her memory tarnished like this?”

“No,” Ivan said firmly.

“Then tell me,” Josie urged him. “How did Sutton find out that Colette was in touch with Bridges, and what did he order you to do?”

“She was careless,” Ivan said quietly. “She had Bridges’ name and phone number written on a scrap of paper in her purse. She was looking for something in her purse one day at work and it fell out. Sutton found it. When he asked her about it, she lied to him and said it was someone from her church she was supposed to deliver meals to, but Sutton wasn’t buying it. He had me check out the number. Then he told me I needed to make Bridges disappear.”

“He told you to kill him?” Josie asked.

Ivan said, “He never said the word kill. But it was clear. He said that Bridges knew something that could endanger the whole company, and I needed to make him go away permanently.”

“So you did?”

“No, I didn’t want to. I didn’t—that wasn’t the arrangement we had. He had me intimidate people sometimes, but nothing more than that. Most of the stuff he asked me to do was spying on competitors or people he was trying to make deals with. I was there to find dirt on people. So I said I wouldn’t make Bridges disappear. I didn’t see why I needed to—Bridges obviously hadn’t talked.”

“But Colette knew. That changed everything.”

“He wanted me to make Colette disappear, too. He said he could find someone else to do the job if I refused.”

Gretchen stepped up to the table, staring hard at Ivan. “You made a deal with Sutton.”

He looked over at her, as if realizing for the first time she was in the room. “Yes,” he said. “I promised him that I could make sure Colette was no longer a threat. I convinced him it would be too suspicious to have a former employee and a current employee go missing or turn up dead so close together, even though Bridges no longer lived in Pennsylvania. I told him Colette was a young mother and a dedicated employee. She was active in her church and well-known in her community. Her disappearance would bring a lot of scrutiny to the company. Scrutiny he might not want. So he said if I made Bridges go away, he’d let me keep my job and he wouldn’t harm Colette.”

“So you went to Maryland,” Josie said.

“I waited in the backseat of Bridges’ car one morning. When he got in, I held a gun to his head and told him to drive to a nearby riverbank. Then I made him get out and walk partway into the river. I—I held him under it until he died and let his body go.”

“But you kept his belt buckle,” Josie said. “And you brought it back to Pennsylvania and gave it to Colette. What did you tell her?”

“I told her it belonged to Bridges and whatever she was doing, she needed to stop. I told her that Sutton had had Bridges killed, and she would be next if she didn’t let it go. That’s when she told me what she had found—the massacre at the encampment, she called it. I had no idea until she told me.”

“But you convinced her to keep quiet,” Josie said. “How?”

His chin dropped to his chest. “Her children were young. She was terrified for them. I promised to do what I could to protect her, but I told her that Sutton would have me killed and replaced in a heartbeat if he thought I had failed to shut her up. I convinced her that the best thing for her family was to keep quiet.”

“And just like that, she did?”

He nodded. “She had young children. She couldn’t put them in danger. It was difficult for her, but she had to protect her family.”

“Except that in 1999 she tried to expose Sutton again,” Josie said. “She met with Samuel Pratt, an archaeology professor at Denton University. He had studied mass graves all over the world. She wanted to see if he would do a dig near the quarry. Exposing the grave without exposing her. It would have been an incidental finding. How did Sutton find out?”

“He didn’t,” Ivan said quietly. “He didn’t know about Samuel Pratt—or about his brother.”

Josie looked over at Gretchen who gave a barely perceptible shrug. Josie turned back to Ivan. “But you knew about him. How?”

His eyes glistened with tears. “I was in love with her. I—I watched her.”

“You stalked her.”

“No, I kept an eye on her.”

Josie decided not to debate the point. “You saw her meeting with Samuel Pratt. She met with him once before he died.”

“I researched him. There was only one reason that I could figure why she would be meeting with him. The second time they met, I overheard them talking and there was no doubt. So I waited until Colette left. I approached Dr. Pratt near his car, convinced him to get in and drive to Bellewood. I knew a stretch of riverbank there that was secluded.”

“Then what?” Josie asked.

“He begged me to let him go. He said he’d never tell and never speak to Colette again. But it was too late. I already learned that people couldn’t let something like that go. I knew what would happen if he exposed Sutton. I’d be killed. Colette and maybe even her family would be killed. So I took him into the river, and I held him under the water until he was gone.”

The cold and matter-of-fact way that Ivan described his crimes sent a shiver up Josie’s spine. The only time he ever seemed to show emotion was when he spoke of Colette. Was he even capable of the love he said he felt for her or was it just some twisted form of obsession? How could someone who could kill so easily be equally as committed to protecting a woman who didn’t love him back? Was Ivan Ulrich a sociopath or just very deeply damaged? Maybe a bit of both, Josie thought. It didn’t matter. What mattered was getting the rest of Ivan’s confession so they could get him off the street and solve the case.

“You took something from him,” Josie said. “To give to Colette as a warning.”

“He had this arrowhead with him. I gave it to her and told her she had to stop. She was—she was very angry. Very upset. She told me to leave her alone, that she—” he broke off, swallowed, and tried again, “she never wanted to see me again.”

“But you kept ‘looking after her’, didn’t you?” Josie said.

He nodded.

“In spite of your warnings, she made one last effort at exposing Sutton Stone’s big secret,” Josie said.

“Yes. With Drew Pratt. He was a prosecutor. This could not stand. If Mr. Sutton found out she was talking to a prosecutor, all of us would have been in jeopardy.”

“Did Mr. Sutton find out?” Gretchen asked.

“No. I… took care of it.”

Josie said, “What did you do?”

“I followed her the day they met at the craft fair. I knew she was up to something because she’d put on this short-haired wig. I saw her in the parking lot, walking back and forth, chain-smoking. Then Drew Pratt drove up. She leaned into the passenger’s side window for a minute. Then he got out and they went inside. I trailed them as best I could without her spotting me. I overheard her tell him that she had documents. A file, she said. I didn’t know if it was paper or a computer file. So after she left, I made him walk down to the river, with his laptop, too. He had a flash drive. I took it. Then I walked him into the current and drowned him.”

Again, Josie felt a wave of sadness. These men had been taken away from their families and loved ones for no other reason than someone else had told them a terrible secret. They were innocent. They had no part in the original crimes. Their families had suffered. Mason Pratt—the last Pratt standing—would suffer for the rest of his life because of this man.

“Did you know what was on the flash drive?” Josie asked him.

“No. I thought perhaps it was what she had given him. I wanted her to know that I was the last person he saw. So I gave the drive back to her. She told me it wasn’t hers. I told her I knew she gave it to Pratt. She said that she hadn’t given anything to him, but she admitted to having files. Internal company documents, she said. She found them in Sutton senior’s office after his death, hidden in a secret panel in his desk. She said no one would ever know where she hid them, and it didn’t matter because she was done with trying to expose Sutton.”

“You weren’t afraid she would try again?” Gretchen said. “She’d already tried three times.”

“I knew she wouldn’t try again,” Ivan said, voice now tinged with sadness. “She didn’t want more deaths on her conscience.”

Josie wanted to tell him those deaths were on his conscience, not Colette’s, but she kept silent.

Ivan continued, “I begged her not to make me kill again. I begged her to pray for my soul. Then Laura was hired by Sutton. Colette promised again to stop, to take it to her grave.”

“So what happened?” Gretchen asked. “Why did you kill her?”

Shock whitened his face. “I didn’t kill her. I would never harm Colette. No one would hurt her. She was a good person.”

“Ivan,” Josie said. “You’ve just confessed to three murders. Why are you lying about Colette’s?”

He put a hand on the table and thrust his neck toward Josie, eyes earnest. “I didn’t kill her.”

“But you killed Beth Pratt, burned her house down, attacked Mason Pratt, killed Brody Wolicki and tried to kill Earl Butler,” Josie pointed out. “And you burned Colette’s house down while me and Noah were still in it.”

His head hung again. “I didn’t want to.”

“Then why did you do it?” Josie said.

For the first time, Ivan looked behind them at the viewing mirror. “I don’t want to talk anymore. I want a deal.”

“What kind of a deal?” Josie asked.

“The kind where I tell you the rest and help you put away Mr. Sutton. You don’t understand. He is still a danger to Laura and all of Colette’s children.”

Josie raised a brow at him. “You’re the one who does his dirty work. Why should we believe that he is a danger to anyone? He’s an elderly man now.”

“Any man with a gun can be dangerous. I’m telling you. He is unpredictable. Cold. I did the things I did because I had to do them. He is not like that. He… enjoys it.”

Josie exchanged a glance with Gretchen. “Give us some time.”

Outside the interrogation room, Gretchen said, “What do you think?”

Josie sighed. “It’s not up to us. I have to call the DA’s office. Although if they know we got information from this guy about Drew Pratt, they’ll probably be willing to work with him.”

“But he already gave up the Drew Pratt murder. That was his bargaining chip,” Gretchen said.

“No. He knows a lot more. If there’s really a mass grave out there, and this guy can give it to us then the DA will work with him. Plus, Sutton’s a big fish with big lawyers. A witness against him might be the only way to get to him. Also, there was a second person, remember? The size ten shoe print at Colette’s house. We need to know if he can name that person.”

“I’ll call the DA’s office,” Gretchen said. “You check in with Lamay.”