Page 26 of Confessions of the Dead

“What? No.” Matt ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t think he—”

“It doesn’t matter what you or I think. We need to do this by the book. Are his clothes wet?”

Josh thought about that but wasn’t sure. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so,” she repeated under her breath. “When you get him to the station, Mirandize him, inspect and bag his clothes. You said Lynn was soaked and there was water all over the bathroom. You can’t drown someone like that without making a mess. If there’s a drop of water on him, make a note of it. Take photographs before it dries out. Write everything down.” Her voice faded a bit toward the end, but not enough to keep him from hearing.

Matt glanced at Josh in the back of the car. “What if he changed clothes before I got here? After he …” He looked up at the house. “I should go and look before they dry out, too. I—”

Ellie cut him off again. “You don’t set foot in that house, do you hear me? I want you to lock the front door and tape it off. We need to preserve the scene. We’re not equipped to deal with a homicide. I’ve gotta call someone in.”

“Closest FBI office is Portsmouth. That’s an hour and a half away,” Matt pointed out.

“I’ll try the Jackson sheriff’s office first. They have a crime lab. If they can’t send someone, we’ll have to wait on the feds, no choice.”

“The kids are still in that bathtub …”

Static rolled over the line, then faded away. When Ellie spoke again, Matt had trouble hearing her at first, then she came back stronger. “I know it’s horrible, but the best thing you can do for them is to preserve the scene.”

And they’re part of the scene, his mind reminded him. He blinked, and the image of those two small bodies under the pink bubbles flashed in his mind.Getting a conviction is how we make things right by them.

Through another wall of static, Ellie said, “When you get to the station, I want you to call Harvey Cooper. Tell him what’s going on, and tell him I said I want him to come down and represent Josh.”

“Josh didn’t request an attorney.”

“That’s good, because we don’t have a public defender to give him. We’d have to pull one from county, and that’s not happening on a Sunday.”

“But Cooper does family law, doesn’t he?”

More static, then: “I don’t care if he practices tribal law for the wetlands of New Guinea. Can’t risk a potential prosecution coming apart because Josh didn’t get representation. Cooper can hold things together until the courthouse at county opens tomorrow. Hopefully when CSI concludes their investigation, the findingswill back what Josh told you, but if they don’t, we need to be ready. Mirandize him, bag his clothes, call an attorney. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What a clusterfuck,” Ellie muttered.

In the car, Josh had gone quiet. He was staring down at the floorboard. When he looked up, Matt turned away from him and asked Ellie, “Are you still with the abandoned Honda?”

“I was. Figured I’d wait for the tow truck to get here, but Sally just called me and said there’s some kind of disturbance at the library. I’m heading over there now.”

“The library?” Matt said. “What the hell is going on today?”

19

Matt

MATT SPENT TEN MINUTESsealing up the Tatum house. Several neighbors came out and he told them as little as possible; even Annie Bergen, who was never shy about showing her feelings. She smacked the back window of Matt’s cruiser and glared in at Josh. “Did this bastard hurt ’em? Lynn said he was cheating with Nancy Buckley—he tell you that? What did he do to Lynn? Where are the kids?!?”

He told them all to get back in their homes, what little good that did. When he finally pulled away, there were at least ten people standing out there. They knew better than to approach the house—he didn’t have to threaten them. They all knew Ellie would string any one of them up if they tried.

Matt made the right off Morning Glory to Sumptner and drove another quarter mile before shifting the rearview mirror so he could see Josh. “Want to tell me about Nancy Buckley?”

Josh sniffled and raised his cuffed hands to wipe his nose. “Nothing to tell. Lynn wasn’t well and saw things where therewasn’t anything. I do the Buckleys’ taxes, that’s it. Lynn noticed my car at their house one day and decided I was having an affair.”

“And you weren’t?”

He shook his head.

Matt knew Nancy Buckley. She graduated a year before him and like most, never left. She married the same guy she dated through most of high school. He worked for a local contractor hanging drywall. Matt recalled seeing her husband’s red pickup parked out front of the Black Moose Tavern at closing time at least three times in the past week. Not exactly a sign of a good marriage, but not a smoking gun, either.

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