Page 97 of Our Daughter's Bones

Watched.

Like animals.

Monster.

Her skin crawled. These pages contained something worth hiding. But the longer she stared at Abby’s immaculate handwriting, the more she found herself getting lost in the jumble. Abby never wrote a name.

It was almost as if she had left riddles in case the pages were found by the wrong person. Like she knew that someone would be looking for them.

What Mackenzie knew was that Abby had not only discovered who this “Monster” was but also that he had hurt other women before, and that this town was protecting him. She thought back to the investigations into Daphne and Chloe; the neglect and callousness with which they were handled. The convenient timing of the burglaries and Peck’s apparent negligence. It was evident why Abby never went to the police. Even Mackenzie wouldn’t know who to trust.

“Let’s not tell anyone about this for now,” she said. “We should get something more concrete before we get the brass involved.”

Daniel nodded absentmindedly. But Nick watched her with questioning eyes.

Fifty-Three

Miranda Baker had spunk, Mackenzie concluded. The twenty-something sitting across from them had pink hair, plain skin, and an asymmetrical face. But the sharp movement of her eyes and forced smacking of her jaw as she chewed gum screamed defiance. Every now and then her pierced tongue would creep out to lick her dry lips.

“You really had to show up at my work?” she said in a gravelly voice. “What do you think my manager will make of this?”

She hadn’t been difficult to track down to the cafe. The place was sparse, but busy enough even near to closing on a Sunday. The floor needed rigorous mopping, and the menu screen was cracked. But it was a quarter the price of Starbucks, so everyone flocked.

“You’re not in any trouble,” Nick said.

“It’s about the perception. Do I evenhaveto talk to you?”

“Gina told us about you,” Mackenzie said softly.

Her forehead crumpled. “How is she?”

“She looks like she’s surviving.”

“I keep telling her that she needs to leave.” Miranda sat back and nibbled on the pad of her thumb. “She doesn’t listen. She really needs the money. But that place isn’t safe.”

“Why not?”

She froze and assessed them. “Why are you here?”

Nick showed her a picture of the cocktail napkin. “Does this mean anything to you?”

Miranda stared at the picture for a long time. Mackenzie held her breath. She felt tingles race up her arms.Maybe, she’ll knowsomething.

But she shook her head. “No. Haven’t seen this before.”

“Why’d you quit?” Mackenzie asked warily.

“Joe is a son of a bitch.”

“You said that place isn’t safe.”

“Definitely not.”

“Because of him?”

Miranda growled under her breath and looked away, reluctant and cagey. Mackenzie knew she could be convinced. She had given a glimpse of her character when she softened at the mention of Gina.

“Miranda,” Nick said. “Hannah’s daughter is missing. We’re looking for her.”