HE FELT THE hard floor beneath him as the dream faded. His breathing was labored. He heard a persistent high-pitched ringing coming from the headset on the desk.
“Nate! What took you so long?”
He waited before answering Harry. The clock showed that he had been asleep, or whatever it was, less than five minutes.
“Just getting used to the equipment,” he said, adjusting the headset. His voice sounded rough to his ears.
“Any luck in the Missing Persons?”
“Not yet. Not unless the M.E. finds a stash of money on the body. According to one candidate, the woman he reported ran off with twenty-five thousand of his hard-earned profits.” Nathan looked down at the notes on the desk in front of him.
“I got five hits that fit, so just doing follow-up calls,” he added.
“Well, you can stop looking. Patterson got here a half hour ago. He’s starting the autopsy now. Using that van of his as the setting. Imagine driving around in a car where you cut up dead bodies all the time. His life, not mine. Anyway, when we carried the body out of the woodshed, the blanket slipped down and Sela recognized her.”
“No kidding.”
“Yes. Not a pretty sight, but Sela isn’t the squeamish type. She said it’s Nora Gray, from Vesta, a town about eighty miles north of here.”
“She’s not on my list. So how does Sela know her?”
“They did an exhibit together last summer, at an art gallery in the city. Both were there to show their work. Sela does oil paintings. She remembers this Nora acted nervous all the time, and kept worrying that she wouldn’t sell anything, saying she had to get some money or she’d die. Sela took it as just a throwaway comment. I’d say it might be a lot more than that.”
“Did she sell anything?” Nathan asked.
“Matter of fact, looks like she sold some watercolors she’d done, walked away with around two thousand dollars. Nice return for a day out.”
“Not if you end up dead,” Nathan said.
“Yeah, right enough. So get what you can on Nora Gray—whatever there is. Bring it over to me when you’re done.”
“Yeah. Wait. What’s the name of the gallery?”
“Hold on. Here it is. Ramos. Fourteenth Street.”
Nathan removed the headset. The dream washed over him and he pushed it away. He didn’t want to remember anything. He wanted the headaches to stop. Go back to his old life. That’s what he wanted.
He drew up the NamUs website again and typed in the woman’s name, specifying the town of Vesta. Three hits came up for Nora Gray, but they were all from relatives in the town who had entered their own information separately.
The log file was thin. They described the blue coat and black scarf well enough, and the color of her hair, but there was nothing about the woman herself, her work and life. He’d have to conduct interviews.
He went to a browser and got several million hits when he typed in her name. Narrow the search, he reminded himself, wishing the computer could read his mind.
He typed in the name of the art gallery. Samples of the latest exhibit were displayed, but there was no link to an archive. He opened Skype again and called the number shown across the bottom of the screen.
“Ramos Galleries,” said a woman’s voice, with a slight accent.
“I’d like to speak to the owner,” Nathan said.
“I’m Rafaella Ramos. How can I help you?”
“You had an exhibit last year. A Nora Gray sold some watercolors there.”
“Yes, she did. Who am I speaking to?”
Nathan stared at the screen. He hadn’t identified himself. What was the matter with him!
“I’m Detective Nathan Byrne, currently on assignment to Sheriff Harry Turner up in Canyon City. We are just seeking information about Nora Gray. One of the locals here remembered that she had been part of your gallery exhibit last year.”
“One of your locals?” Rafaella Ramos laughed. “That’s not how I’d describe Sela Holiwell. She’s a remarkable artist and I wish she wanted to show more of her work, but I’ve argued that with her for years. I can’t tell you much, I’m afraid, about Nora Gray. She is a very fine watercolorist, and as I recall she did very well that day, sold two pieces.”
“You have a good memory.”
“It’s my business to remember successful exchanges.”
“Anything else?”
“She was certainly responsible in her behavior, supervised the hanging of her work, and gave me my commission without a complaint, which isn’t true of everyone I display here. Rather a quiet, shy woman, and she didn’t even try to cultivate sales, but her work was so good that people gravitated toward it. I contacted her several times but I haven’t heard from her again. I hate to lose a profitable artist. May I ask why you are investigating her?”
Nathan hated to give bad news, but he felt Rafaella Ramos was entitled to know.
“We found her body in Boise Canyon. Looks like she fell off the edge of a road leading into an abandoned mine that’s up there.”
“Oh, poor Nora. What a sad and terrible thing to hear. What on earth would she be doing in a place like that?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Nathan said. “If you think of anything else, I’d appreciate your contacting me.” He gave her his email address.
“I think Sela might be more useful to you,” said Ramos. “They spent some time together since their paintings were in the same exhibit room.”
He thanked her and rang off. He wouldn’t mind a conversation with Sela at all, he thought.
He cleaned up the desk and put on his coat. He could use a cup of coffee, and not one that came from Harry’s old machine.
The door to the sheriff’s office was wide open and Turner was standing in the entrance holding one end of a black body bag.
“Nate, as always, you’re just in time.”
Another man was braced a step down in the street holding the other end of the body bag. It had to be the medical examiner, Patterson.
“Open the back of the van, okay?”
Nathan turned around. A few yards up the street was a van with the insignia of the coroner’s office. He went toward it. As he reached out to pull back the van doors he hesitated. He had no special desire to see the portable morgue that Patterson used. He pulled the doors back without looking inside. Harry and Patterson pushed the body in.
“What was the body doing in your office?” he asked Harry. It seemed bizarre to him.
“Because there was no way I was going into the back of that van, that’s why,” the sheriff said. “I had him do his preliminary work in one of the jail cells, since that’s the only part I had to watch. He can finish the rest in his own way.”
“Harry, Harry, you are such a child,” Patterson said.
Nathan studied the man. He wore a thin jacket despite the cold and no hat or gloves. His hands were very pale, and made Nathan think of the underside of a fish. His face was long and narrow, but he had a full head of red curly hair that looked incongruous on him. Nathan wondered if it was a wig.
“So you’re going to notify the family? I have to get rid of this one soon. I have other places I need to be,” Patterson said.
“We’re going up there today,” Harry said to him. “Just waited for you.”
Patterson got into the van and started it up. “I’ll be done by six. Get back as soon as you can. I have my daughter’s wedding in two days. I don’t intend to miss it.” He nodded in their direction and made a U-turn back toward the highway, skidding on the ice before the wheels righted themselves.
“He has a daughter,” Nathan said.
“And a wife,” Harry said. “He’s driving them to the wedding in that damn van, too. Come on, let’s go. I’ll fill you in on the way up.”
“Your jeep heated?”
“It can be,” Harry said. “Let’s grab some coffee from the café first.”
The café was an old diner set back behind the gas station. Inside Nathan was met with noise and laughter. Obviously it was where the locals hung out, including Sela, for she sat at a table with three others.
When she saw them she got up and came over to the counter where Harry was ordering coffee and bagels to go.
“Have you found out anything?” Sela asked in a low voice.
“Going up to see the family now,” Harry told her.
“I spoke to Rafaella Ramos,” Nathan said. “She recommended I talk to you. I’ll check in when we get back, if that’s all right.”
He noticed an old man at the counter leaning in toward them. So did Harry.
“George, we’re talking business, and it’s none of yours.”
The man sat back upright and focused on his eggs and toast, but then he looked up and smiled at them. “Can’t fool me,” he said. “Something’s up. No matter. I can wait till you want to tell me.”
“Which will be never,” Harry said, amused. “Bye, Sela. Later.”
As they walked out Nathan turned back and saw she was still looking at him. She lifted her hand in a quick wave before going back to her table.
“Sela is a complex woman, in case you’re thinking about it,” Harry said to him as they got back into the jeep.
“You don’t miss much,” Nathan said.
“Don’t miss anything, as a matter of fact,” he said, gunning the motor.
The highway to Vesta took them through magnificent scenery. The hills were wrapped in fog that alternately cleared and obscured them. The snow was pristine on miles of fields, and he didn’t hear anything but the sound of the tires on the plowed surface of the road. The jeep’s engine made almost no sound at all.
“Top of the line,” Harry said, patting the dashboard, reading his thoughts. “Hate cars that make noise.”
“Territory looks pretty good out here. I can see why you stay,” Nathan said.
“So what did you get on Nora Gray?”
“Nothing of value, so far. She was a nervous type, but we already knew that. According to the gallery owner, Rafaella Ramos, she was very good at what she did. Like I said back there, she told me to talk to Sela if I wanted to know more, since they spent that time together the day of the exhibit. Ramos also implied she could make a fortune off Sela if only Sela felt like showing her wares more often.”
“That’s right. You haven’t seen her work. When you do, you’ll see why.” Harry left it at that.
Nathan enjoyed the scenery awhile longer before asking about the autopsy.
“Ghoul of a man,” Harry said. “Not all medical examiners give me that feeling. He likes his work too much, that’s all. I suppose he has to. Anyhow, she didn’t die from falling off a ledge, not that that’s news. She was hit in the head from behind. Patterson says it was the back end of a hatchet or machete. He’s got that detailed in his preliminary report. He couldn’t estimate time of death, but he said there’s evidence now that suggests she was killed sometime last fall—three or four months ago.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“Don’t ask me. Has to do with insects invading the body at different times of the year. He’s sending specimens he found to a forensic entomologist. What it means is, she was killed not long after she disappeared. She was reported missing in early October, right?”
“How much are you going to tell the family?”
“Well, that depends.”
Nathan understood. Seeing reactions firsthand would tell them a lot. He and the sheriff were alike in that. The surprise element was always the best way to go.
The drive to Vesta took two hours. The place didn’t look much larger than Canyon City.
“Vesta’s part of my jurisdiction,” Harry said as he drove through the center of town, “but I hardly ever get up here. Keeps pretty quiet, this place. I don’t know many of the residents.”
“According to that sign we just passed there are 423 people living here.”
“We pride ourselves on our big city environments,” Harry said.
He drove past the few shops that lined the street. A hundred yards farther on he turned right and went down a short cul-de-sac, stopping the jeep in front of a white, prefabricated house. Three cars were lined up in the driveway.
“We’re in luck,” Harry said. “Looks like everybody’s at home.”
The side door opened before they could get out of the car.
“What d’ya want?” A woman stood there, her hair a mass of blond curls. She stood like a guardian at the gate, thought Nathan.
“Mrs. Gray?”
“Do I look like I could be that old? Who are you?”
Harry pulled out his identification as he stood up.
“Wait, you got something on Nora, is that it?” Her tone went from hostile to hopeful. She leaned back toward the open door.
“Ma! Johnny! Marnie! Hurry up. It’s got to do with our Nora.”
Hearing the name Marnie, Nathan jumped. The dream swept over him and it took all his effort to push it away again.
Three more people crowded out onto the small porch, a gray-headed woman who was obviously the mother, and two young men.
“Can we talk inside, where it’s warmer?” Harry asked.
The family looked at each other and then the mother shrugged.
“Okay,” the blond-haired woman said, and beckoned to Harry and Nathan.
Once they were seated in the small living room, Nathan looked around. Most of the room was occupied by a large television screen, but every surface there was, was covered with family photos. He didn’t need to see them to know he was in the right place. The family resemblance to the deceased woman was evident.
“So?” the blond woman asked. “What about Nora?”
“We need to ask a few questions first,” Harry said.
“You folks always do. Questions and questions and no answers. Nora’s been gone for months and all you do is ask more questions.”
“Can I get your names?” Nathan asked. “I’m new and it would help. If you didn’t mind.”
His tone mollified her.
“All right,” she sighed. “I’m Hannah. These are my brothers, Johnny and Marnie. My mother, Alice.”
As she spoke their names, the others seemed to withdraw further into themselves. They appeared content to let Hannah speak for them.
Harry shifted in the straight-backed chair they’d offered him.
“I am sorry to have to tell you, but we found Nora’s body north of Canyon City two days ago,” he said.
The mother let out a small moan and fell against her son Marnie. Both brothers looked frightened. Hannah just stared at the sheriff.
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
“We have confirmed her identity, although we do need one of you to come down to Canyon City for formal verification,” Harry said.
Hannah stood up. “It’s not true. You’ve got the wrong person. Nora is still out there somewhere.” She seemed about to walk away when instead she sagged back down in her chair and buried her head in her hands.
“How did she die?” Marnie asked.
His voice startled Nathan. It was sonorous, as rich in timbre as an actor’s, and belied his thin frame and shyness.
“Again, I’m sorry to have to tell you. She was struck from behind and we believe this caused her to fall over the edge of a mining road up in Boise Canyon.”
“You’re telling us Nora was murdered?” Hannah said in disbelief.
The mother rallied and sat up and looked at Harry.
“If my daughter was killed, who did it?” she demanded.
“We don’t know,” Nathan said. “It will be an active case until we find out.”
“Doesn’t make sense,” said the mother, her voice breaking. “Nora didn’t even know how to drive. How could she get to such a place?”
“We have your report, but it would help if you’d tell us what happened when she disappeared,” Harry said. “Hearing from you firsthand could help our investigation.”
Hannah glanced at the others but no one spoke. She sighed. “She was working right here in town, at the beauty salon. Her favorite place. She loved it. Didn’t have any reason not to stay put. Then one afternoon she throws on her coat and tells Sandy—the owner—that she’s got to go out. That’s the last we see of her.”
“Does she have a boyfriend?”
“She did. My buddy, Jimmy Norton,” Marnie said. “He’s—he was—a logger. Died in an accident. She didn’t want to see anyone after that.”
Nathan’s first impression had been that the family were out and out hicks, but as they spoke, each one in turn, he got the sense of a close-knit group that was articulate and perceptive. He knew how often first impressions were right, and then again, how often they could be wrong.
“I’ll go down to Canyon City,” said the mother.
“We all will,” said Hannah. “When?”
“Now would be good,” Harry said.
She nodded. “We’ll follow in my car.”
Ten minutes later Nathan and Harry were on the road again, Hannah and the family behind them in a dark green sedan that had black tape holding on one of the headlights. Nathan wished he’d asked them for a cup of coffee, but if it wasn’t offered, that would be against protocol, anyway.
“Looks like we found the right people,” Harry said.
“If they identify her, yes. If they don’t, they’ll be screaming at us,” Nathan said.
“It’s happened before,” Harry said, and shrugged. “We do our best. In a way, I wouldn’t mind if this was a case where we were wrong. I don’t think we are, though. Not after seeing those photos everywhere.
“Yeah.” Nathan watched the landscape as they passed once more through the wilderness of fields and forest. For millennia the region had been mostly uninhabited except by wildlife. Maybe that’s why it held something so pristine in it, he thought.
He’d chosen his profession, and had loved the work. He knew that for certain. It had been his anchor and his reason for living, next to Jenny. Taking care of the bad guys. What could matter more? So what was this ennui that had come over him in the last months all about? This time, he knew the answer even while he asked himself the question. He was tired of there being no end to the violence and despair he saw every day. He was afraid of the truth, that he’d never be able to fix it. The faces of the victims and perpetrators would change, but there’d never be a way to stop it. People had killed each other since their first moments on earth, hadn’t they? And they hadn’t stopped since. That was the source of his weariness and disturbance. Yes. That was it. He didn’t know why they did it, and never would. So what was the point keeping on with the work? Maybe that was something he had to face.
Lines by the poet Sara Teasdale entered his mind that he had learned he didn’t know where, but which had stuck. Maybe Jenny had read them to him. Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree, If mankind perished utterly; And Spring herself when she woke at dawn Would scarcely know that we were gone.
Harry was easy company. Long silences didn’t bother him. They were almost back in Canyon City before he said anything more.
“Patterson says the body won’t be fit for viewing much longer. As it is, I told him to make sure to take it out of the van and put it back in the shed and get it covered with a blanket for the confirmation. Sela will take care of the family while you and I help him get things set up.”
“Sounds good to me. Then what?”
“Then they tell us what they want us to do with the body and we start looking for the killer.”
“We don’t have anything to go on, except maybe time of death. There’s nothing.”
“Talk to Sela. See what you can find out about anything that went on at that exhibit. Maybe she saw something. You can try to track where Nora Gray went—see if anyone near Boise saw her. That’s all I can think of right now.”
They drove into town and Harry went straight to his office. Patterson’s van was parked in front, and Patterson himself was just coming toward them holding a cup of coffee from the diner. Hannah pulled in beside them.
Nathan went over to their car. When Hannah rolled down the window he told her that they wanted to set up the viewing area, and till then there was a place they could wait.
Harry came out and took the lead in his jeep, with Hannah behind him, and Patterson and his van in the rear. A small procession worthy of a funeral march, Nathan thought.
Harry had notified Sela from his office, and she was standing on the front steps when they arrived. She greeted the family and led them into the house. Hannah looked back at Nathan, an expression on her face he couldn’t decipher.
When Sela closed the door, Harry directed Nathan and Patterson in lifting the body out of the van and getting it over to the shed out back. Sela had changed the interior. She had set up a long table covered with a white silk quilt, and at one end of the room there was an altar with three lighted candles. There were chairs in the room and a smell that at first Nathan couldn’t determine but then recognized was lily of the valley. Very soft music came from speakers in one corner. He recognized it, too, as the sound of a Native American flute.
They arranged the body on the table and Nathan covered it completely with the quilt. Patterson and Harry went out. He stayed a moment in the room. It was as if the violence the woman had experienced was somehow altered. He had the unexpected feeling that her spirit was at peace, and that somehow that had been Sela’s doing.
Harry took the mother in first, at her request, and Alice confirmed it was her daughter. Nathan then took in Hannah, and she said it was her sister. Both women had tears running down their faces but neither let out a sound. In their silent grief they honored the dead with dignity.
For the brothers it was more difficult. They went in together.
“We weren’t there to save her,” Marnie said, his deep voice breaking as he tried not to cry.
“She was our angel,” said Johnny, speaking for the first time, his sobbing muted. He touched Nora’s hair.
Alice gently drew the quilt over the body completely and turned to Sela.
“Thank you for this,” she said, gesturing around with her hand. “You did well by my child.”
They all left the shed and Sela closed the door.
“What now?” said Hannah.
“You just need to tell us. If you plan a service, do you have a funeral home in mind?” Harry said.
“There’s just us. For me, this was her service. This did better than anything else would have,” said the mother.
“We’ll take care of the burying,” Marnie said.
They left a little while later, placing Nora’s body in the back seat, wrapped in the quilt that Sela insisted they take. Hannah and her mother sat holding her. The two men sat in front, Marnie doing the driving this time.
Hannah rolled down her window.
“Thanks,” she said. “We all thank you. It’s not what we wanted to know, but you’ve all made it as tolerable as it can be.” She paused and then looked up at Nathan. “You’re new to this place, you said. Seems to me you fit.”
He watched them leave until he couldn’t see the red tail lights of their car. It was already close to dusk.
“That was really nice, what you did for them,” he said to Sela, who still stood beside him. He noticed she wasn’t wearing a coat, cold as it was. She and Sierra shared that habit.
“What you did, as well,” she answered. “Want some coffee? Harry said you needed to talk to me about the exhibit.”
“Coffee would be outstanding.”
She turned around to the side of the house where Harry and Patterson were finishing up with some paperwork, leaning over the back of the van. “Want coffee?” she called out to them.
“Gotta get to a wedding,” Patterson said.
“Too much to do right now. Rain check,” Harry said.
“Come on, then,” she said to Nathan. “I need to thaw out.”