Missings, The (8 page)

All three detectives refocused on the murder board.

“I have an idea,” Terri said.

“Go.”

“If our victims aren’t being eviscerated for a cult, there must be another reason.”

Silence, then a trio of voices said, “Money.”

“That has potential, Terri,” Chase smiled. “It explains why the bodies were dumped.”

Daniel nodded. “I’m supposed to be the money guy and it never occurred to me.”

Chase looked at the board. “We need to make some connections between black market organs and the Hispanic community.”

A knock at the door and Chief Whitman entered the room.

“We’ve found Rachelle Benavides.” He didn’t smile when he said it. “Actually,
we
didn’t find her.”

Chase’s chest tightened. He swallowed.

“Elizabeth Benavides found the corpse of her mutilated sister fifteen minutes ago.” The chief’s voice came across tight and measured. His gaze pinned Chase. “Elizabeth Benavides is downstairs and wants to see you. See her and then fix this.”

Damn!
Chase wanted to get to the scene. See for himself. Check around for possible witnesses.

“Where did Elizabeth find her sister?” Chase asked.

“Inside an abandoned mine.” The chief handed a slip of paper to him with directions.

Chase nodded toward Daniel and Terri. “You two head out now.” Daniel reached for the paper. “Hold the scene for me. I’ll be there as soon as I talk to Ms. Benavides.”

Aspen Falls Police Department

Friday, September 21

Chase prepared himself to handle whatever he found when he walked into the room. Family members—loved ones—could respond in bizarre ways under this kind of stress. His first impression was that Elizabeth Benavides’s eyes were red and swollen, and her hair was disheveled. She looked small and sad. But when he walked toward her she stood, hands on hips, and watched him walk toward her. She looked like she was accusing him. Daring him.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Benavides. We’ll do everything we can to find your sister’s murderer.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“I understand how you—”

“You understand nothing.”

Chase pulled out his notebook. “I know you’ve already given your statement, but do you feel up to telling me what happened?”

“That’s why I’m here, Detective.”

Elizabeth Benavides sat down, back straight, hands folded in her lap. “I got a call on my cell phone. A man told me I could find my sister at the old abandoned silver mine on the west side of town. Actually, the asshole called it “Spic Town.”

She fell silent and Chase gave her time to collect her thoughts. Elizabeth began to massage her thumbs, took a breath and continued, “When I arrived my cell phone rang again. Same guy. He said I would find myself in a similar position if I continued to talk to the police.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “That’s when I saw her, Detective. Rachelle . . . she was lying on her side, her back to me. She didn’t move. The nude body of my sister. I ran to her to save her. To bring her back to me. But before I even got close I knew . . .” Tears ran unstopped down her face and fell into her lap. Elizabeth didn’t seem to notice.

The young woman took a great breath. Exhaled. “And then I saw her. Oh, God. I saw the butchered body of my baby sister.”

“I’m so sorry, Miss Benavides.”

The young woman nodded, opened her eyes and slapped the tears off her face. “Someone murdered my sister. He thinks he can threaten me and scare me off.
Mierda!
He thinks he will control me as easily as he controls my neighbors. He is a
culero
. That asshole picked the wrong
chicana
to murder.”

“You’re very brave.”

“I’m not brave. I’m
enojada
. An angry person doesn’t need bravery.”

“I promise I’ll keep you updated during the investigation,” Chase said.

“As I said before, that’s not good enough.”

Uh-oh
. “What is it you would like me to do?”

“I want to be involved in the investigation.”

“Ms. Benavides—”

“Elizabeth.”

“This is not a game. There are dangers and we’re equipped to deal with those dangers. You need to let us do our job.”

“With your supervision or without it, I’m going after the son-of-a-bitch who killed my sister. I just thought maybe you could figure out a way to use me.”

“Okay, I appreciate your position. I’ll run your request by the chief of police. It will be up to him.” Give her some space and maybe she would see reason. “Go home for now. I’m heading out to the scene and you don’t need to be there again.”

“Wrong. I’m coming. I figure you can either have a hope of controlling me or you can count on a rogue investigator out there who could potentially mess everything up for you.”

“Messing things up for us messes them up for you as well.”

“Not necessarily. I don’t operate under your constraints.”

Chase felt the familiar tension building in his neck and shoulders. There wasn’t anything routine about the murder of Rachelle Benavides. And her sister had significantly upped the ante.

“Ms. Benavides—Elizabeth—you need to back off and let us do what we’re trained to do.”

“Detective, I’ll back off and let you do what you’re trained to do whenever I see you doing something I can’t. But in the meantime, I can get information for you from my community you’re unlikely to get from any other source. I can bring you things from Rachelle’s experience. Do you get that? Without me you may as well send in RoboCop—one that only speaks Russian.”

Chase’s chest constricted. Punching someone in the face would help.
She’s not even thirty. She makes a lot of good points, but hell. She’s a civilian.
His instinct wanted him to tie her to the very chair she sat in and make her sit there until they solved this case. Somehow he knew—experience maybe?—attorneys would get involved and make a huge mess of his intentions. He had to kick his paternal attitude to the curb.

He didn’t want her but he needed her. He considered his options and made a decision.

Chase walked to the door. “Well, come on then. I don’t have all night.”

At least this way he’d be in control.

Sloan Enterprises

Friday, September 21

Edward Sloan sat at his desk. The elegant-looking man sitting across the expanse bothered him but he couldn’t say why. Edward just knew he was disgusted by him. Repulsed.

In the long run though, it didn’t matter. Edward cleared his throat. “Name your price.”

Long, pale fingers steepled and paused, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. Edward could see the man’s crossed knee, draped and situated so as not to create a wrinkle in his hand-tailored suit. Edward Sloan saw men every day who needed to make themselves appear better than the next man. One-upmanship. He had always refused to have any dealings with those men. It irked him that this time he didn’t have a choice.

“We have already begun the process on your behalf. Up until now we’ve used our own resources, gratis. To continue could be quite expensive.” The smooth delivery matched up well with the slippery shallowness Edward sensed in the man. Liquid. Like an oil slick on water.

“Name it.” Anything to save his wife. Hell, saving Diana would save him. Two for the price of one.

“Mr. Sloan, you understand that this is somewhat beyond our normal scope of operation.” The man brought his hands down and folded them in his lap. “That is not to say we don’t have the means to accomplish the task. But there are additional risks involved.”

Edward Sloan pulled himself tight against the desk and leaned forward. “I’m not in a position to negotiate. And
you
must understand, I will not be putting all of my faith in you. I will continue exploring the other areas available to me—and my money.”

“I would do the same in your position. I assume that means you will continue seeking assistance overseas?”

“That, and within certain quasi-legal organizations in this country.”

“You must love your wife very much.”

Edward swallowed the bile in his throat. “That’s the first thing you’ve said with which I don’t have a problem.”

The visitor pulled a card from his inside pocket. “These are the wiring instructions for my offshore account. I have noted the amount to be deposited. Once we have acquired the item you have stipulated, you will deposit a matching sum before we relinquish it.” He handed the card to Edward.

“That’s a lot of money.”

“It is. But then I was under the impression that your wife’s life was priceless.”

Alone after his visitor left, Edward Sloan picked up the phone.

“Get my banker on the line.”

Honey Silver Mine

Friday, September 21

Chase pulled up his SUV and turned off the ignition. Maintenance crews were setting up Klieg lights and hooking them up to a generator as the sun was about to set. Elizabeth Benavides sat in the passenger seat, not moving.

“You can wait here if you’d like.”
Please wait here. Don’t make me have to think of anything other than the scene
.

She shoved the door open and pulled herself from the vehicle. She turned to look him in the eyes, daring him to question her strength or purpose or right to be there.

“Fine. Then stay behind me. Don’t move or do anything unless I tell you.” He skewered her with a look. “Are we on the same page?”

Elizabeth nodded.

As Chase began to walk to where he could see Jax at work, Akila Copeland approached him.

“Hey, Chase. We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

“If only.” He looked at the young CSI. “Leaving already?”

“This wasn’t the crime scene. Not much for me to find. Next time can you get me an actual crime scene to investigate?

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Chase strode to the taped-off area and walked through. Terri was the closest of his crew to the body, resting on her haunches and observing while Dr. Taylor checked various details and made notes, her camera clicking away at intervals.

Daniel was talking to a patrol officer, animated and pointing down the road. When Daniel saw Chase he signaled a stop with his hand, ended the conversation, and approached Chase.

The young detective shook his head. “The Daily is all over this one. I fielded one call and have let three others go to voicemail. We need to control the perimeter.” The Aspen Falls Daily might be a small-town paper but they didn’t miss much. Most of their staff, seasoned on larger city papers, chose to live in Aspen Falls because of the lifestyle. They could kick back when they wanted to, hit the slopes to catch the freshest powder, but could also exercise their olfactory muscles to sniff out prize-winning stories.

Chase called the patrol sergeant and requested two more uniforms even though this was obviously not the murder scene. Even if the press got every fact right, the rumors and speculation would fly, and their already difficult case would get that much harder. Information containment was as important as anything they’d done so far on this case. Which wasn’t much. Time enough for press releases when they had something to say
.

“What else do we have?”

Daniel hesitated, peering at the sullen young woman standing behind Chase.

Chase reminded Daniel who Elizabeth was with an abruptness that invited no questions. “Now, Detective. Tell me. What do we have?”

“Not the murder scene. Hispanic female, late teens or early twenties—”

“Seventeen,” Elizabeth said. “Rachelle was seventeen.”

Daniel turned to Chase, hesitating. The rest of what Daniel had to say would not be pretty, especially for a family member to hear. Chase nodded for him to continue.

“Her lungs, heart and both kidneys have been surgically removed.”

Elizabeth sucked in a breath and grasped Chase’s arm.

“Do we have a time of death?” Chase asked.

“Doc says it’s been a day. No more than two. She said she’d have a better idea after she runs some more tests.”

Elizabeth Benavides had shown up in his office on Wednesday. Probably about the same time her sister’s body was being harvested for whatever could be sold on the black market.

Sometimes life sucked.

“I want you and Elizabeth to dig for some answers in the Hispanic community,” Chase said. “That’s where we’ll begin to get a handle on what’s going on in this town.”

“Wait. She’s a civilian—”

“That’s right. She is. She’s also a civilian who has access we don’t.” Chase watched Daniel. “And you’ll be there to protect her.”

“I don’t know anything about that part of town.”

“I know that, but you’re the closest we’ve got. Use her connections, Daniel. Pretend you belong. Go tomorrow during the day. You should catch a lot of people home on a Saturday.”

Chase walked over to where Terri was still taking notes with Dr. Taylor.

“Hey, Doc.”

“Detective.”

Chase stood over the lifeless body of Rachelle Benavides. The familiar twist in his gut made him remember the personal side of murder. The family’s loss. The life cut short by violence. He’d never met Rachelle Benavides but he’d come to respect her in the few hours he’d spent on her case. He vowed to find her killer or killers.

He processed the nude body, caked blood on the café-au-lait skin—especially around the slice along her sternum—and the tiny diamond stud earrings in her ears. Seventeen. Not much older than Angela.
Damn it
.

“What’s your initial impression?” Chase asked.

“This girl has had everything removed. All of the major organs. Heart, lungs, kidneys. All surgically excised.” Jax Taylor paled. “If this is a doctor, I want his head on a platter. I want to be doing
his
autopsy.”

“You don’t think this could just be the work of a competent hunter? Someone used to dressing game?”

“No way. This person has been to medical school. I’m actually pretty in awe of his—or her—technique.”

“I need the results as soon as you can get them. Call me if you find anything that might be important.”