So this was Charlie’s big surprise. Ty glanced back at him, standing by the exam door, looking like he’d aced the hand and won the pot. Well, he was only twenty-five. His hair was so blond it was nearly white in the sun, and his light blue eyes made him look like an angel, which he wasn’t. “Your big surprise?”
He started to grin, but at Ty’s expression, he dropped his eyes, studied his boots. “Yeah, one of them.”
Dr. Staunton said, “There was ID in an inner pouch on the inside of her jeans’ waistband.” She handed Ty the driver’s license. “She had two bricks tied around her waist to keep her down.”
Ty read aloud, “Octavia Millsom Ryan. Age thirty-six, address in Washington, D.C.” She looked at the photo. “Her face, it’s hard to tell. When I called the Hoover Building, a summer intern told me Sala Porto was with his girlfriend, Octavia—no last name—and they were on vacation. You don’t forget a name that unusual.” She passed the driver’s license to Flynn.
Flynn said, his voice emotionless, “Yes, it’s Octavia. I was a witness in one of her cases, maybe three years ago. Did you know her, Savich?”
Savich shook his head, pulled up her info on his cell. “Octavia Ryan is a criminal defense lawyer in Washington, known as the Patroness of Lost Causes, according to this article in the Post.”
“Looks like it’s my case after all,” Ty said. “Now I’ve got to find Special Agent Sala Porto. He’s my prime suspect.”
Savich read further, raised his head again. “Sorry, Chief, Octavia Ryan left her private practice last year. You didn’t know, Flynn? She became a federal prosecutor six months ago.”
5
* * *
Dr. Staunton said, “Ty, maybe you not running this case is for the best, given what I’ve got to show you now. Everyone, come with me to see Charlie’s second surprise for you.”
They followed Dr. Staunton to another room, watched her unfold a tarp on an exam table. They stared down at dozens of human bones jumbled together.
Dr. Staunton said, “Charlie and Hanger found these bones when they dragged the lake. You can see there are at least enough bones to form close to a dozen people, maybe even more. The FBI forensic anthropologists should be able to make a count.”
Ty felt like she’d been slammed in the face. It was incredible, unbelievable. All these bones at the bottom of Lake Massey? She said blankly, “There’s a shoe and a foot inside it.”
Dr. Staunton nodded. “Unfortunately there’s no soft tissue left. The shoe’s still got some shape, so I’d say it hasn’t been in the lake longer than, say, ten years. As for the rest of the bones, I have no idea how long they’ve been in Lake Massey, maybe fifty years. Fish clean the bones quickly, particularly largemouth bass and walleye. They’re both efficient scavengers. As you can see, there aren’t enough skulls for this number of bones. So there are more down there.”
Ty couldn’t look away. The most heartbreaking to her were the three skeletal hands, fingers outstretched, the bones white as snow. “All these bones—they belonged to living, breathing people—” She swallowed. “Hanger needs to do a wider drag of the lake.”
Savich said, “Chief, shall I see what the FBI can do, or can you handle another lake drag locally?”
She only shook her head and turned to Charlie, standing by the exam room door. “Charlie, get ahold of Hanger, go out with him on another drag. This time do a wider grid. Be very thorough.”
Charlie had his cell phone out before she’d finished talking, then he was gone.
Flynn said, “Dr. Staunton, I know you’ve only begun, but have you noticed any obvious possible causes of death?”
“I did examine the one skull Ty brought me. No injuries I could see. As for the rest, I haven’t had time to examine them. And besides, you know I’m no forensic anthropologist—I could easily miss something important. As I said, the FBI forensic anthropologists are the ones to examine these bones.”
Savich looked at Ty. “Chief?”
“Yes, Dr. Staunto
n’s right. Thank you.”
Flynn nodded. “I’ll arrange to have the bones picked up to take to Dr. Richard Thomas at Quantico. He’s one of the top forensic anthropologists in the country.”
Ty waved her hand toward the pile of bones. “It doesn’t make sense. I haven’t gotten any reports of missing persons in the three years I’ve been here. Well, there was one, a teenager, but we found him.” She picked up a skeletal arm. “Who are you? Who are they? Why are they on the bottom of Lake Massey?”
Savich lightly laid his hand on her arm. “They’ll do DNA tests. It will take time, but we will find out who these people were and give closure to their families.”
Ty swallowed. “The man I saw murder Octavia Ryan, maybe he’s a serial killer, maybe she was his latest victim.”
Flynn said, “It’s possible. If we are talking a Serial, Chief, he’s killed a lot of people over what could turn out to be a long period of time. If no one’s gone missing locally in your tenure as police chief, then he could be drawing on towns all around Willicott and simply using Lake Massey as his dump site.”
Dump site. It sounded obscene. Ty said, “It means going back over missing persons files plus contacting all law enforcement in, what, a fifty-mile radius of Willicott, telling them the situation, asking them to go through their missing persons files as well.”