The Sinner. Amanda Stevens

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ chanting in the woods. That same indistinguishable word repeated over and over. I cocked my head, trying to decipher the mantra, but the sound was either too far away or buried too deep in Kendrick’s memory.

      I resisted the urge to try and push past his defenses. For some reason, I felt it important that I not give that particular ability away to him.

      “This is a small town so word tends to travel fast,” he said. “You can expect a lot of gawkers over the next few days. Since the quickest and easiest way to get a look at those cages is through the cemetery, you’ll need to keep the gates locked.”

      “I will.”

      Shadows crisscrossed over us as more vultures circled. I didn’t glance skyward, but instead put a hand to my eyes as I scanned the treetops where the sun would soon start to slide.

      Kendrick handed me a card. “You think of anything else, here’s my number. Call any time, day or night. Whatever happened here...” His gaze lifted, tracking the buzzards. “I don’t like the feel of it.”

      “It’s disturbing,” I agreed. Beyond disturbing. It was the stuff of nightmares. Arms rising up out of a fresh grave. Hands clinging to the locked grid of a mortsafe that was designed to keep grave robbers out, not the dead in.

      “We’ll begin the excavation once we get the cage opened. It won’t be pleasant,” he warned as he nodded to the trail behind me. “You may want to head back up to the cemetery before we get started.”

      “Don’t worry about me. I used to work for the state archaeologist’s office in Columbia. We were sometimes called in to move whole cemeteries. If there are older remains beneath the victim, it’s very important to preserve the integrity of the original grave site.”

      “Are you offering your services?”

      “I wouldn’t be so presumptuous,” I said, once again startled by the intensity of his focus. I suddenly realized that I could no longer sense the presence in the woods and I had to wonder if Detective Kendrick had somehow scared away the watcher. The notion that he possessed that kind of power was hardly reassuring. “I recommend you call in the state archaeologist,” I rushed to add. “Her name is Temple Lee. If she doesn’t have time to come herself, she can suggest someone locally to assist you.”

      “I’ve heard the name,” Kendrick said. “She was on the news during those Charleston excavations sometime back. As I recall, a torture chamber was uncovered beneath a mausoleum in an old cemetery connected to Emerson University.”

      His expression never wavered but I knew that he was gauging my response. Either he’d recognized my name or he’d done his research on the way to the scene.

      “You’re referring to Oak Grove Cemetery,” I said easily. “I was involved with that case, as well. I’d just been commissioned to restore the cemetery when the first body was found.”

      His gaze moved over my features, searching my eyes, my pulse points, the corners of my mouth for a flicker or twitch or some other guilty tell. I didn’t so much as flinch. If I could hold myself steady in the presence of ghosts, I could surely keep my cool with Detective Kendrick.

      “Seems an odd coincidence. Another body found buried in an old grave near a cemetery you’ve been hired to restore.” His accent had vanished in the cool delivery of what I considered an accusation.

      “I can see how you’d think so, but it was pure chance that I decided to take a walk down here to stretch my cramped muscles. And if I’d never left the cemetery, the body and those cages may have remained undiscovered for decades.”

      “You don’t have any immediate plans to leave town.” It wasn’t a question.

      “No, of course not. I have several more weeks of work left in Seven Gates.”

      “Where are you staying?”

      “I’ve rented a small house near the cemetery. Annalee Nash is my landlady.”

      “Annalee Nash.” A frown flitted across his brow. “I understand she’s the one who hired you for the restoration.”

      “She is. The house I’m renting from her is just down the road a quarter of a mile or so. It’s the white one on the right.”

      “I know the place well. Screened porches, lots of fruit trees. A tire swing in the yard.” He hesitated. “Used to be an old storage shed behind the orchard.”

      “It’s still there,” I told him.

      “If you’ve been here all summer, I’m guessing you’ve heard the rumors about that place.”

      “What rumors?”

      Before he could answer, one of the officers called over to him. “Hey, Detective! The locksmith just pulled up. Malloy’s headed up there now to show him the way back.”

      Kendrick nodded and started to return to the grave, but before I could stop myself, I reached out and grasped his arm. “What rumors?” I asked, my voice far more breathless than I would have liked.

      Another hesitation. “It’s probably just talk. Nothing for you to worry about.”

      Then why had he brought it up?

      I pulled my hand away, embarrassed by the contact.

      His eyes glinted darkly. “I’ll take your advice and give the state archaeologist a call. But regardless of her schedule, we can’t wait to recover the body. I don’t know how long the weather will hold and the sooner we get her out of the ground, the sooner we can get an ID. Maybe you’ll be able to help us with that.”

      “I wouldn’t count on it. I don’t know many people in town. Just Annalee and a couple of college kids I hired early on. As I told Officer Malloy, they didn’t last long.”

      “You fired them?”

      “No, they left of their own accord. Cemetery restoration is backbreaking work.”

      “Nevertheless, I’ll need their names and a way to reach them if you have it.”

      “I’ll make sure to get you their information, but I can’t imagine they had anything to do with this.”

      “It’s just routine. I’ll be in touch,” he promised as he strode off to join the others.

      I stared after him for a moment, more shaken by our encounter than I could logically explain. Perhaps it was the penetrating quality of those peculiar eyes or the notion that he might know more about me than he’d let on. That he might even know about those cages and the watcher in the woods. Whatever the reason for my disquiet, I had no intention of ignoring my instincts about Detective Lucien Kendrick.

      * * *

      A little while later, the chatter around the graves rose as the locksmith finally arrived. He was a wiry, ponytailed man named Martin Stark. Unlike the young police officers first on the scene, Stark displayed not the slightest hesitation as he strode through the grass toward the graves. I admired his economy of words and motions even as something about his impervious approach tripped an alarm bell. If the hands surprised or repulsed him, he didn’t let on. Maybe he’d seen worse during the course of СКАЧАТЬ