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Island of Bones(36)



The next looked older, maybe eighteen. She was plump with long curly hair, wearing a white blouse and a pearl necklace. The writing underneath said PAULA, 1965.

Next was MARY, 1973, cute in an innocent sort of way with mousey brown hair, full lips, and large dreamy eyes.

The last was ANGELA, 1984. Wavy dark hair, slightly exotic looking, maybe Hispanic.

Louis sat back in the chair, staring at the women.

Jesus Christ. What was this?

“It’s almost nine.”

He looked up. Holly was standing at the door, but her eyes were on the index cards.

“What are those?” Holly asked, biting her lip.

“Nothing important.” He stood up. “Can I make some copies?”

“Sure, follow me.”

Louis followed her out to the main part of the library. Holly hovered nearby while Louis copied the cards. When he asked her for an envelope, she produced a manila envelope from under her desk and gave him a smile.

Louis slipped the cards in. “Thank you for your help, Miss Russell.”

“So is Mr. Woods coming back?” she asked, twirling a strand of her long dark hair.

Louis hesitated. “Do you want him to?”

The girl’s smile faded and the twirling stopped. “Well, I mean, I don’t really think he killed anybody but...”

Louis waited.

Holly Russell shrugged. “But he was kinda, I don’t know...weird like. I mean, you know?”

Louis nodded. “Yeah, I know.”





CHAPTER 17




Louis paused outside the library entrance, watching a Fort Myers police cruiser pass by.

Damn. Mel Landeta. He had almost forgotten that Landeta had called him earlier, asking him to come by the station after seven. He was two hours late.

He drove back to the station on the hunch that Landeta would still be there. Inside, he paused outside Landeta’s closed door. The lights were on. He knocked.

The door swung open quickly. The bright fluorescent lights made Landeta’s head gleam like a cue ball.

“You’re late,” Landeta said. “I have better things to do than sit here waiting for you.”

“I was busy at the library, talking to one of Frank Woods’s employees, a girl named Holly Russell.”

“Our guys already talked to her and went through the whole place,” Landeta said, turning away.

“Well, they missed these,” Louis said, holding out the envelope.

“What’s that?”

“Four more missing girls, I think. From the sixties, seventies, and eighties. Frank cut their pictures out of newspapers and taped them to index cards.”

Landeta took the envelope and slipped the cards out. He looked at each carefully. “Where’d you find these?” he asked.

“In a copy of Virgil’s Aeneid.”

Landeta glanced up at him then back at the cards. “So with the first clipping, the one of...”

“Emma Fielding,” Louis said. “From 1953.”

“That makes five girls in four decades,” Landeta said.

“Right. Shelly Umber makes six.”

Landeta began to carefully stack the index cards together. “Did you get anything new out of the girl you spoke to?”

“Holly,” Louis said. “Yeah, she said Frank Woods was weird.”

“Weird? You can do better than that”

“That’s all she said.”

Landeta turned away, going behind his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small plastic evidence bag and put the index cards in. He sealed it with orange tape and then hesitated, looking up at Louis.

“I guess you should initial and date it,” he said.

Louis stepped forward, snatched a pen out of the holder on Landeta’s desk and filled out the label.

Landeta picked up the evidence bag as soon as Louis finished.

“I’d like to follow up on those girls,” Louis said.

“I’ll do it.”

“I’d really —-”

“I said I’ll do it. I make the assignments here. Not only am I point, I’m a cop. You’re not.”

Louis’s jaw tightened. “Horton asked me to work this with you.”

“Horton’s letting you play Rocky King Detective, just like on TV, that’s all.”

“Playing?”

“And if you want to keep playing, you’ll take the assignments I give you.”

“I don’t need your shit, Landeta,” Louis said, turning to the door. “Work the case by yourself.”

Louis started down the hall.

“Hey, Rocky!”

Louis kept walking, starting down the steps.

“Kincaid, wait.”

Louis turned. Landeta was at the top of the stairs.

“Okay,” Landeta said. “I need you to go down to Naples.”

“What for?”

“That’s where Emma Fielding’s brother lives. Go down there and see what you can get out of him. Here’s his address and a copy of the original police report.” Landeta held out paper.