The Girl With No Name

Chapter Twenty

The Denton City Morgue was located in the basement of Denton Memorial Hospital, which was an old brick building that sat on top of a hill overlooking most of the city. The patient rooms had great views, but the morgue itself was windowless and drab with a lingering odor that was half chemical and half biological decay. The walls of the long hallway had originally been white but hadn’t been painted in so long that they were now a dull gray and the floor tiles had become jaundiced long ago. It was also the quietest place in the hospital—maybe even the city. Every time she came to the morgue, Josie felt like she was walking through the set of a horror movie; today she felt like the star of the show. Her mind swirled with questions. Who was Mickey Kavolis? Had Luke buried him there? Had Luke killed him? She tried to quiet the storm raging in her head. She needed more information. She needed to approach this like the experienced investigator she was.

Dr. Feist reigned supreme over the small corner of the building. She had one part-time assistant whom she’d hired in the wake of the missing girls case. He was in his late twenties, short and stocky with a barrel chest and a neatly trimmed goatee. Josie stood in the corner of their autopsy room as he helped Dr. Feist lift the body bag containing Mickey Kavolis from the ambulance gurney onto their stainless-steel autopsy table.

He moved around the room wordlessly, helping Dr. Feist to peel away the bag and prepare her workstation while she removed her jacket, revealing a set of light-blue scrubs, and fitted a skull cap over her silver-blond locks. At one of the sinks, she spent some time washing her hands. Glancing over at Josie, she said, “You sure you want to stay for this?”

Josie smiled. “Let’s see how far I get.”

She hadn’t had to attend that many autopsies, but they weren’t her favorite thing.

“You’re welcome to sit in that chair in the corner. Don’t interrupt me. Save all your questions for when I’m finished. You know the drill.”

Josie sat in the chair Feist had indicated and pulled out her phone, texting Noah: “Where are you?”

“On my way,” came his instant reply.

She had called him while Dr. Feist and the evidence response team unearthed Mickey Kavolis’ body. He’d been at Foxy Tails, showing Jane Doe’s photo around to the dancers. No one recognized her. Josie had asked him to run Mickey Kavolis’ name and relevant information through their police database and meet her at the morgue.

Josie watched as Dr. Feist clicked on her digital recorder and started calling out her findings in a loud, clear voice. They knew his name, address, and date of birth from his driver’s license. One look at the man’s partially decomposed face was enough to tell them he had died from a gunshot wound to the head. Josie was hoping Dr. Feist would find a bullet or some other clue that would tell them who had killed Mickey Kavolis and how his dead body ended up buried behind Luke’s barn.

She knew she shouldn’t make assumptions, but Luke’s property was pretty remote. The chances of someone besides him burying a man there were slim to none. With each hour that passed, the feeling of doom building up inside her grew and grew. She swiped her phone to bring up the home screen so she could text Noah again, and Luke’s face appeared once more in her background photo.

What the hell did you get yourself into? she asked him silently.

A light tap on the door drew Josie’s attention. From the square panel of window in the upper half of the door, Noah’s face peered at her. Relieved she no longer had to be alone with her anxiety and fear for Luke, she dropped her phone into her pocket and, with a nod to Dr. Feist, who had just picked up her scalpel, Josie exited the room.

Noah stepped back as she opened the door. He pressed a hand over his nose. “My God,” he said. “That smell.”

Josie wrinkled her nose, making sure the door to the autopsy room was securely closed. “I know,” she said. “It’s pretty awful. So, what do you have?”

Noah looked at the door once more and said, “Walk with me. I need some air.”

They found the nearest exit, which led to an employee parking lot behind the hospital. Two dumpsters sat beside the doors, and yet the smell was more pleasant than that emanating from Mickey Kavolis’ body.

Josie kept her foot in the opening of the door to keep it slightly ajar. She knew the doors would lock once they closed them, and she didn’t feel like walking around the entire building to get back in. “Tell me,” she said.

“Mickey Kavolis worked for Eric Dunn.”

“What do you mean worked for Eric Dunn? In what capacity?”

“Private security,” Noah said.

“What? Like at his casinos?”

“No, like as a bodyguard… amongst other things.”

Josie didn’t like the sound of that. “Other things, like what?”

Noah shrugged. “Hard to say. I talked to someone on Atlantic City PD. They picked up Kavolis a few times in the last three years—three assaults, and one robbery.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. He always beat it. Nothing ever went to trial. Dunn’s lawyer swooped in, got him out on bail, then witnesses disappeared.”

Josie asked, “Did Kavolis have a record?”

“Yeah, he served twelve years for third-degree murder. Beat a guy to death when he was twenty-two.”

“So he was Dunn’s muscle. What the hell was he doing here? I know Dunn is in talks with the city council to get his casino built, but what was Kavolis’ assignment? No one here needs to be intimidated.”

“The council members who don’t want the casino, maybe?” Noah suggested.

Josie’s brow furrowed. “We haven’t had any reports from any of them of anything criminal going on.”

“Would they report it if they were being pushed around by a guy like that?”

Josie sighed. “Probably not. How did you find out he worked for Dunn?”

“Two months ago, we impounded an abandoned vehicle on one of those back roads behind the college. It was a rental picked up in Philadelphia by Kavolis, and guess whose credit card he used?”

“Eric Dunn’s.”

Noah nodded. “It was a corporate card registered to Dunn Hotel and Gaming, LLC.”

“Mickey Kavolis hasn’t been reported missing,” Josie pointed out. “At least, not here.”

“Not in Atlantic City either.”

Josie smiled. “You already called Dunn, didn’t you?”

“I called human resources and said I was calling from a private security firm where Kavolis had put in a résumé.”

Josie had to restrain her guffaw. Men like Kavolis didn’t use résumés. They didn’t need to. Theirs was a skill set in high demand in the right circles.

Noah continued, “They said he resigned in May.”

“Resigned, huh? That’s one way to put it. That was four months ago. You said you picked up his rental car two months ago—that would have been back in July. When did he rent it?”

“May. The rental agency just kept charging Dunn’s corporate account. They made some half-hearted attempts to contact Dunn about getting the car back but didn’t get anywhere.”

“And Dunn just let the charges accrue?”

“Until we called them and they had someone come out and get it from the impound, yeah.”

“They paid the fees?”

Noah nodded. “No questions asked.”

“Can you find out when Eric Dunn was here this year? See if Kavolis was here with him?”

“Yeah, I’ll look into it.”

“He’s at the Eudora Hotel,” Josie said. “Mayor Charleston told me he stays there every time he visits. I think he’s still in town—he was her guest at the charity benefit last night.”

Noah raised a brow. “Should we go have a word with him?”

“No, not yet. I need more information before we talk to him.”

“What kind of information?”

“The kind that only Trinity Payne can provide.”