LITMIR.BIZ

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at Garth. “I want to talk to Audrey. I had Tam ask her to stop by. There are things she needs to know.”

      Garth mumbled under his breath, but didn’t contradict his boss. Instead he said something about getting coffee and disappeared around the corner.

      “He’s frustrated,” Willie told Audrey. “We all are. You know how Garth is.”

      “Yes, I know only too well,” Audrey replied.

      Tam opened the sack and removed the four sandwiches, but before handing them out, she looked to Audrey for information.

      “Here, let me do that.” Audrey handed Willie a sandwich. “Roast beef, rare.” Then she placed a sandwich in front of Tam and laid another aside for herself. “A couple of their Elana Ruz sandwiches for us—turkey, cream cheese, and strawberry preserves.”

      Tam sighed deeply. “If you weren’t already my best friend, you would be now.”

      Audrey and Tam exchanged smiles.

      Garth returned with two cups of coffee, gave one to Willie, and kept the second cup. “I figure you girls will want to doctor up your coffee to suit yourselves. I’ve got no idea how either of you want it.”

      “I’ll get us both a Coke,” Tam said. “Does that suit you?”

      “A Coke’s fine,” Audrey replied

      “I’ll make yours regular and mine diet.”

      Audrey nodded. She and Tam had different body types and different metabolisms. Tam was always dieting. Audrey had never dieted. But she suspected that eventually, probably in her fifties, that would change.

      When Tam walked off, Audrey noticed that Willie was once again engrossed with some of the papers and photos spread out on Garth’s desk.

      “Would I be out of order to ask what you’re looking at?” she asked.

      “You know better than to ask,” Garth told her.

      “Sorry.” Audrey eased away from the desk.

      “It’s something we chose not to share with the media.” Willie glanced from Garth to Audrey. “But Audrey isn’t the media.”

      “She’s not one of us, either,” Garth reminded the chief.

      Choosing to ignore Garth’s comment, Willie said, “It’s something that we all find odd about how both bodies were staged.”

      “Everything’s odd,” Garth said. “There’s nothing normal about it either.”

      Willie glowered at Garth before turning back to Audrey. “It’s about what the two women held in their laps.”

      “Jill Scott was holding a doll, right? Or at least that’s what everyone assumes. That’s what the reporters said. So, what was Debra Gregory holding?”

      “The media present at the scene where Jill Scott’s body was discovered were kept at a distance and assumed they saw a doll lying in her lap.” Willie shuffled through the photos in front of him, chose two, and held them up to show Audrey. “It wasn’t a doll.”

      Audrey stared at the crime scene photograph of Jill Scott. It took her brain several seconds to grasp the reality of what she saw. Her mouth parted to release a soft, startled gasp.

      “It’s a…a skeleton.” Audrey took the photo from Willie and studied it more closely. “Oh my God! The killer laid the skeleton of a small child in Jill’s lap.”

      “It’s horrible, isn’t it?” Tam said as she came back into the office.

      “Then it’s real,” Audrey said, barely believing her own eyes. “It’s the actual skeletal remains of a human child?”

      Tam set two colas on the desk, one by her sandwich and the other by Audrey’s. “All too real. We’re waiting on DNA results in the hopes we can identify the child, but the UT Body Farm has identified the remains of the child found with Jill Scott as a white male, probably between the ages of twenty and thirty-six months.”

      “What about Debra Gregory? Was there a…?” Audrey couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

      “Yes, there was another child found in her lap,” Tam said. “About the same size.”

      Willie stood and placed his big hand on Audrey’s shoulder. “Pete Tipton will examine the remains, take DNA samples from bone and teeth, and forward them to the lab.”

      Audrey suddenly felt as if someone had dealt her a body blow hard enough to knock the wind out of her. For a few seconds, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t allow herself to accept the impossible possibility. Not now. Not after twenty-five years.

      “Is there any chance that one of those little bodies could be…” She swallowed hard. “Could be…” She couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t say the unthinkable.

      “It’s possible,” Tam said. “We’ll know as soon as the DNA testing is completed.”

      “Oh, God, does my father know?” Audrey asked.

      Whitney Poole hated her job, especially when she drew the Sunday lunch shift at Callie’s Café. Crowds of churchgoers descended on the restaurant in droves, and many of those good Christian people treated the waitresses as if they were unemotional robots. As if being yelled at, ordered around, and occasionally cursed wasn’t bad enough, the cheapskates who ate at Callie’s because they could buy a meat and three vegetables for $5.99 were definitely not big tippers.

      Whitney glanced at her wristwatch—4:15 P.M.—and smiled when she realized her shift would end in fifteen minutes. Her feet ached, her head hurt, and she probably had a bruise on her butt from where a customer had pinched her. The son of a bitch had actually pinched her ass. When she’d given him a nasty look and told him to keep his hands to himself, he and his two buddies had whooped loudly in her face.

      After going from table to table and refilling coffee cups and tea glasses, she hurried to print out the bills for her two remaining tables. One was a blond guy sitting all alone. He seemed quiet and shy and hadn’t said another word to her after placing his order. He had simply answered when asked if he wanted more tea or a dessert. He had declined both. He’d been pleasant enough, although he hadn’t smiled at her or anyone else, but she had caught him staring at her a couple of times, and the way he’d looked at her had sent chills up her spine. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him that spooked her; she just knew that he did, despite the fact that he was young and good-looking.

      She laid his check on the table, asked if he wanted anything else, and turned to go to the next table.

      “Wait,” he called to her.

      She hesitated, feeling a sense of dread spreading quickly through her; but she turned, smiled, and said, “Yes, sir?”

      He held up a five-dollar bill. “I just wanted to make sure you got your tip.”

      She stared at the money in his hand for a couple of seconds, then snatched it away from him and said, “Thank you.”

      He rose to his feet so quickly that before she had time to move, he was facing her, only a couple of inches separating their bodies. Instinctively, she moved backward, forced another smile, and rushed to the next table. By the time she laid down the check and glanced back, the man was walking out the door. She released a heavy breath, glad to see him leaving.

      But suddenly he stopped, glanced over his shoulder, and smiled at her.

      The only thought that came to mind was something her grandmother had said whenever she got a peculiar feeling. I feel as if somebody just walked over my grave.

      Get real, Whit. Just because that guy was sort of creepy doesn’t mean you should freak out or anything.

      By the time 4:30 rolled around, she had all but forgotten her weird customer. The only thing on her mind was her Sunday

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