The Body in the Woods Page 19
His face reddened as he looked at them each in turn. “I have to apologize to you guys. You were right about it not being Jay Adams. I should have listened to you.”
While Alexis murmured acceptance and Nick nodded, Ruby said bluntly, “You’ve been doing your job for a long time. Maybe you’ve gotten stuck in a rut.”
Alexis pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t burst out laughing.
The muscles in Harriman’s jaw flexed as if he was biting his tongue. Hard. He took a deep breath and then said, “Becker still isn’t talking to us. We’re hoping you three can help fill in some of the blanks.”
They all nodded.
“We do know some things, and we’re guessing on some others. Like we believe the three girls who have been found are the only ones he killed.”
“How do you know that?” Ruby demanded.
“Because in his house we found three clippings of hair tied with ribbon. And they match the known victims.”
“That must have been what Nick found at the evidence search,” Ruby said. “Some of the hair he clipped off Miranda’s head.”
“That’s right.”
Alexis exhaled in relief. With luck, that meant there weren’t any more bodies lying under trees in secluded green spaces. Waiting for SAR to gather up their bones. She had been so worried about Raina, but Alexis had finally learned that she had returned to her family.
“Another reason we believe there were only three victims is that we found photos of the three girls—taken after they were dead—in Caleb Becker’s den.” Across from Alexis, Nick made a face. “We also found numerous photos of birds and framed displays of feathers.”
“Those are illegal,” Ruby said.
“I’m sure after killing three people, Becker was really worried about the Migrant Bird Act,” Nick said.
“Migratory,” Ruby corrected, and for once Alexis found herself smiling instead of gritting her teeth. Ruby might be weird, but she was their kind of weird.
Harriman took the lid off the box, then reached in and brought out a small blue notebook. It had been slipped into a plastic bag, opened to a page in the middle so that you could see both sides. He pushed it toward them. They all leaned forward. At the top was printed A Birding Journal. The handwriting was small and crabbed, but Alexis persevered until it became clear.
SPECIES NAME
Homeless, also known as street people, hobos, bums, drifters.
INDIVIDUAL SPECIMEN
Tiffany Yee, aged 17.
Alexis could read only a few lines before her gorge rose. She put her hand over mouth and closed her eyes. In her mind, though, she could still see the sketch on the opposite page. It was nearly unrecognizable, not much more than a stick figure. But still, it was clearly not a bird.
“Alexis found that notebook on the day we found the body,” Ruby said. “And then Becker came up and asked for it back.”
“You told me it was a birding notebook,” Alexis said from behind the shelter of her hand. “I even saw a drawing like that, but I just remember thinking he was a really bad artist.” She hadn’t even disagreed with Ruby. If she had, then maybe Tiffany Yee would still be alive. “We just found it and gave it back to him.”
“We believe the notebook fell out of his pocket when he killed Miranda Wyatt,” Harriman said. “We think he gave her GHB in alcohol, just as he gave it to Ruby in cocoa, and then walked with her into the park.”
“I smelled it!” Ruby exclaimed. “When I leaned over her, she kind of smelled like my dad does when he has a drink after dinner.”
Harriman nodded. “GHB makes people compliant. Maybe he pulled the same trick on Miranda that he did on you, Ruby, and told her they were going to see a spotted owl. Whatever ruse he used, we recovered DNA from Becker as well as four individuals on the strap of his binoculars: Ruby’s, Miranda’s, Tiffany’s, and the girl who was found in Washington Park. And we now know that girl’s name. It’s DeShaundra Young. She was a runaway from San Diego. We think she’s the first one he killed.”
“So she was a girl,” Ruby said. “Not a woman?”
Harriman’s face reddened. “She was eighteen. But she’d already had her wisdom teeth out.”
“But why did he kill her? DeShaundra?” Nick asked. “Why did he kill any of them?”
“It’s possible the first death was an accident,” Harriman said. “Maybe he was trying to get her to look at a bird through the binoculars and she resisted or argued or wasn’t sufficiently impressed. For some people, killing causes an incredible high. And after that, the only way to get that high is to do it again.”
Alexis felt sick. When she had believed Becker was dead, all she had felt was horror at what she had done. She couldn’t imagine looking forward to doing it again.
“He also had dozens of loose photos of girls,” Harriman added. “Live girls, not dead ones. All of them with different colors and types of hair. Because of that and the clippings, we believe it was hair color he used to pick his victims, not skin color. So you got it right, Ruby. Mostly.”
“But not right enough,” Ruby said. “He told me that in humans, females had the most interesting plumage. I should have figured it out then.”
Alexis realized she wasn’t the only one feeling guilty.
Harriman reached into the box again. “So, Ruby, these are the photos we have of you. Do you know when they were taken?” Harriman slid them over, each in a plastic sleeve. Alexis didn’t recognize the pictures as coming from any specific event, but Ruby and Nick did.
“It’s from the day we met him in Forest Park,” Ruby said. “He must have taken some photos of us before we saw him.”
“He’s the one who told us about the swifts,” Nick added.
“He also seems to have put some kind of tracker on other girls and on you, Ruby.” Harriman said. “We found printouts showing your location at various times. They started on Sunday.”
“That explains how he found me in Forest Park,” Ruby said. “Nick and I talked to him on Sunday, but I don’t—” She turned to Nick. “Wait, do you remember how he lost his balance and had to grab on to me for support?” She dumped the contents of her coat pockets onto the table—car keys and more gum wrappers than Alexis had ever seen in one place. Harriman was telling her to wait, but before he had finished speaking, she was pulling something from a small compartment in her backpack.
“What’s this?” Ruby said. “It’s not mine.”
“Put it down!” Harriman ordered, and Ruby let it fall onto the table. “We might still be able to get prints.” Using the edge of a file folder, he scooted it away from her.
“Do you really need to worry about that?” Alexis asked. “After all, you found this guy with Nick’s blood on his knife and his binoculars still wrapped around Ruby’s neck. And both of them can testify as to what he did to them.”
“You ever heard that expression: put another nail in the coffin?” Detective Harriman smiled grimly. “I want as many nails as possible.”
CHAPTER 53
WEDNESDAY
SYMMETRICAL
By the time Ruby and the others were done talking to Detective Harriman, there wasn’t enough time to go home before they were due at the sheriff’s office for class. After pooling their money—well, it was mostly Ruby’s money, but she didn’t mind—they bought dinner at a nearby McDonald’s.
Ruby ordered what she always did at McDonald’s: a Filet-O-Fish, an empty cup for water, and a large order of fries. Now she was methodically eating her fries, consuming each one in three bites, no more and no less, dipping them into ketchup before each bite.
“You’re like a machine,” Nick observed.
Distracted by the sight of her own reflection in the window behind him, Ruby didn’t answer. She always wondered how she looked to others. Red hair, pale skin, big blue eyes. Was she pretty? About all she could tell was that she was symmetrical.
“She’s just being logical,” Alexis said. “Right, Ruby?”
“I lik
e patterns,” Ruby said.
“If it weren’t for your patterns”—Alexis raised her paper cup like she was toasting Ruby—“the cops would never have caught Becker.”
“That only happened because you guys believed me.” Ruby next said what she normally only thought. “Most people just think I’m weird.”
“Well, you are,” Nick said. “But so are me and Alexis. And who said being weird is a bad thing?” Putting his hand to his mouth, he only half smothered a burp. “The three of us are like what you said. About what Becker wanted.”
Alexis’s features bunched up. “What are you talking about, Nick?”
But Ruby knew. “He was collecting the set.”
Nick pointed a fry at her. “Exactly. That’s like us. We’re different, but we fit together.”
“So we’re each, like, a type?” Alexis asked. “I assume you’re talking about more than our hair.”
“We’ve got the smart girl”—Nick pointed at Ruby—“the pretty girl”—his finger moved on to Alexis—“and the”—he pointed to himself and hesitated—“the brave guy.”
Alexis jabbed her own finger at him. “Hey, I’m a lot more than just the pretty girl.”
“If it weren’t for Alexis, both of us would be dead,” Ruby said.
As it was, the doctors had insisted on keeping Ruby in the hospital overnight, which had freaked her out nearly as badly as her confrontation with Becker. She figured the sickest people within a hundred miles were right there in the same building, breathing the same air and generally spreading their germs. She had eventually talked one of the nurses into bringing her a roll of tape, and she had spent a half hour taping Kleenexes over anything she might have to touch, including light switches, door handles, and the flushing mechanism for the toilet.
“But I was sure it was the homeless guy,” Alexis said. “And it turned out that he had nothing to do with it. Just some creepy guy who liked to hit on women.”
“Speaking of homeless, did your parents get mad that you spent the night in a homeless shelter?” Nick asked.
“It’s just my mom.” Alexis looked down and pressed her lips together. “And no, she didn’t.”
Ruby thought she looked sad. She wanted to console her friend but had no idea how to. How could she make Alexis feel better? How could she show she cared? She didn’t want to play Supportive Best Friend; she wanted to be it. But how? Ruby’s shoulders got tight as her confusion grew. She forced herself to take a deep breath, to suspend analysis and critical thinking. No matter what Nick said, sometimes people didn’t really want logic.
Instead Ruby pushed over her red and yellow box. “Want the rest of my fries?
And was rewarded with Alexis’s smile.
CHAPTER 54
SATURDAY
FOAM HEART
From under her eyelashes, Alexis watched Bran as he waited at Perk Up’s counter for Mara to finish making their coffees. She didn’t know what it meant that he had wanted to get together again, or if it meant anything at all. He had texted and called several times to see how she was doing.
Probably his interest was professional. Poor Alexis, he must be thinking, what with having a bipolar mom, finding a dead body, and nearly killing a killer. He must think she needed a lot of trauma intervention.
The strange thing was that, although she had done her best to kill Becker, Alexis didn’t hate him. Maybe she even had some twisted sympathy for him after living with her mom and her mom’s mental illness all these years.
Now Bran came back to their table carrying two lattes. After looking from one glass to the other, he slid one over to her. “It’s my lucky day. The latte art is doing my speaking for me.”
His had a leaf. But hers was decorated with a white foam heart.
A flush climbed her cheeks. He must like her. She tried to think of a reply but couldn’t.
“After all, you’re a hero,” Bran said. “And everyone loves a hero.”
Suddenly Alexis was very glad she hadn’t thought of anything the slightest bit romantic to say. “I didn’t feel like a hero,” she said honestly. “I was just scared. The worst thing was that I thought it was all over. That Ruby and Nick were already dead, so it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.”
“So you three must be pretty good friends? I didn’t pick that up that first night.”
Friends? But Alexis realized it was true. “We’ve been through a lot together since then. To be honest, I’ve never had that many friends. We’ve always moved around a lot. And I didn’t want people to know about my mom.” She took a long sip, then set down her glass.
Bran did the same, leaving behind a faint mustache of foam. Then he reached across the table and took her hand. “I hope you have room for one more.”
Alexis was still cautious. “You mean friend?”
His face turned red. “And more. But only if you want.”
For an answer, Alexis leaned forward. And in front of Mara and a dozen other patrons, she kissed the foam right off Bran’s lips.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
About two years ago, some friends told me that their daughter volunteered for Multnomah County Sheriff’s Office Search and Rescue (MCSO SAR). Not only did she help find people lost in the woods, but she also searched for crime scene evidence and recovered scattered remains. As they spoke, I knew immediately this was the idea I had long sought: the basis for a realistic mystery series. In this book, I have called my group Portland County Sheriff’s Office Search and Rescue, but it was inspired by MCSO SAR.
In MCSO SAR, teens aren’t just observers. In fact, all the leadership positions are held by teens. While adult members are allowed, they aren’t on a separate team. Youth are the team leaders on real searches, and they do not require adult oversight. The other thing that makes MCSO SAR unusual is that about one-third of the time they are called out to assist law enforcement by searching for crime scene evidence.
So thanks go to Sarah Roberts for volunteering with MCSO SAR and for her parents, Nancy and Brock Roberts, for telling me about it. Sarah in turn introduced me to Jake Keller, the group’s training adviser, who has patiently answered dozens of questions, from the type of knife a character might carry to what he or she would say over the radio. Isabel LaCourse, another member since her teens, also graciously answered my queries.
For research that doesn’t involve SAR, Lee Lofland, who runs the one and only Writers Police Academy, has been a font of wisdom. The Crime Scene Writers Group on Yahoo also offers a great place to gather accurate information. And Joe Liebezeit, Avian Conservation Program manager for the Audubon Society, helped me put the right birds in Forest Park.
Thanks to my editor, Christy Ottaviano, for immediately seeing the potential in Alexis, Nick, and Ruby. Other wonderful folks at Henry Holt include Amy Allen, April Ward, Holly Hunnicutt, Allison Verost, Molly Brouillette, Ksenia Winnicki, Marianne Cohen, Lucy Del Priore, and Emily Waters. And this is the seventeenth book that my amazing agent, Wendy Schmalz, and I have done together.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
April Henry is the New York Times–bestselling author of many acclaimed mysteries for adults and teens, including the YA thrillers Girl, Stolen; The Night She Disappeared; and The Girl Who Was Supposed to Die, as well as the mystery Face of Betrayal (co-authored with Lis Wiehl). The Point Last Seen series got its start when April met a teen volunteer for the Multnomah County Sheriff’s Office Search and Rescue. The group, which is teen-led, serves the main first response team for missing, lost, or injured persons in the county and is often called in by other counties. MCSO SAR members also perform crime scene evidence searches at major or outdoor crime scenes for agencies all over the state of Oregon. They have been credited with finding key evidence that ultimately solved dozens of murders. April Henry lives in Portland, Oregon, with her family.
aprilhenrymysteries.com
OTHER MYSTERIES BY APRIL HENRY:
Girl, Stolen
The Night She Disappeared
The Girl Who Was S
upposed to Die
Praise for THE GIRL WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE
“Henry’s airtight plotting and efficient, stylized writing brings tension into each scene. Shrewd characterizations lend additional substance to this adrenaline-inducing read.”
—Publishers Weekly
“[A] tumbling, breathless feel as we scrape for clues right along with our protagonist.”
—Booklist
“Henry has turned up the intensity … with this edge-of-your-seat thriller.”
—School Library Journal
Praise for THE NIGHT SHE DISAPPEARED
An ALA Top Ten Quick Pick for Young Adults
A TLA Tayshas Selection
A Junior Library Guild Selection
“[A] fast-paced, gripping thriller.… Gabie is an intriguing protagonist.”
—School Library Journal
“The reader must wait with bated breath to see when and if the characters will uncover the truth as the suspense builds to a fever pitch.”
—VOYA
Praise for GIRL, STOLEN
An ALA Best Book for Young Adults
An ALA Quick Pick for Young Adults
A Barnes and Noble Top Teen Pick
A South Dakota Library Young Adult Reading Program Selection
Winner of the Maryland Black-Eyed Susan Book Award
A Missouri Truman Readers Award Nominee
“Constantly interesting and suspenseful.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Thoroughly exciting.”
—Booklist
“Readers will be hard-pressed to put this one down before its heart-pounding conclusion.”
—School Library Journal
Copyright © 2014 by April Henry
Henry Holt and Company, LLC
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Christy Ottaviano Books
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