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CHAPTER 30
KIMBERLY
NO LASAGNA OR CHOCOLATE TRIFLE from the church ladies tonight. Instead, the sheriff’s conference room featured trays of deli sandwiches, a couple of neglected salads, and a table full of assorted beverages, most heavy on the caffeine. Franny bustled about, clearing empty plates onto a giant serving platter she effortlessly hefted from table to table, while smiling so brightly she looked like a cross between June Cleaver and a mental patient. Around the U-shaped tables, investigators booted up computers while shoveling food into their mouths.
Kimberly took a moment to gauge the overall mood. Tired but wired, she decided. She walked through the door, Flora and Keith in tow. She went with a turkey sub, a pile of green salad, and a Diet Coke. Then she took the open chair next to Sheriff Smithers. Of all of them, he looked the worse for wear. Kimberly and her crew had no ties to this area, whereas for the sheriff this was all personal.
He gave her a nod, chewed absently.
“Howard Counsel settled?” Kimberly murmured.
“Got him in a holding cell, deputy on watch.”
“I’m sorry,” she offered.
The sheriff looked at her. “Bad things happening around here. Bad things. Feels like I don’t know this place anymore.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“Phone’s starting to ring off the hook. People want reassurances that their community is safe and the problem solved. Hell, I’m more confused than I was yesterday, though of course I can’t tell them that.”
“Lying is part of policing,” Kimberly assured him.
“Except, I want to know my county is safe, as well. Only a matter of time before the press arrives. I can’t believe we’ve been lucky this long.”
“With the ME returning to Atlanta with three more bodies, our time is probably running out,” Kimberly agreed.
The sheriff closed his eyes. “You really think Martha Counsel hanged herself?”
“No.”
“Someone else did it. Not her husband. I don’t believe that for a moment. Meaning there’s another threat out there. One we haven’t identified yet.”
Kimberly eyed the man with genuine sympathy. She understood his stress and strain. Their current situation had just gone from one body to five, from a cold case to a fresh murder. Nothing about this was good, especially for the local cop.
On impulse she reached over and squeezed the sheriff’s meaty hand. “We’re on this.”
He didn’t appear convinced, but at least he squeezed back.
Fresh activity in the doorway. Kimberly’s fellow ERT agents arriving, dirt still smeared across their clothes. With Dr. Jackson en route to Atlanta with the recovered skeletons, the team would provide the update on the burial sites.
Kimberly waved at Harold, his lanky frame looming above his teammates. As always, their leader, Rachel, headed the charge. She nodded at Kimberly in greeting, her sunburned face streaked with sweat and grime. Franklin and Maggie filed in after their compatriots, and they all made a beeline for food and water. Harold, after a moment of hesitation, helped himself to three different subs. The man might be built like a beanpole, but he could eat like a sumo wrestler.
Flora and Keith had already taken seats, Flora with a bottle of water, Keith with pasta salad. Kimberly let the Evidence Response Team take up positions, then it was time to start. She rose, moving to the front of the room.
“It’s been a big day. Looks to me like many of you have findings to report. I’m going to start with our early morning callout to a suspicious death at the Mountain Laurel B and B.” Briefly, she recapped the discovery of Martha Counsel’s body, the accompanying suicide note, and Mayor Howard’s revelation that his wife had had an illegal kidney transplant approximately fifteen years ago. She noticed Franny stopped fussing at the food table and stood silently, the sorrow tangible on her face. Like the sheriff, she’d probably personally known the Counsels. Nothing in this community would be the same again.
Rachel raised her hand. “Hang on. We recovered medical supplies connected to one of the bodies in the mass grave. Are you saying that victim might have been the source of the illegal kidney?”
“We don’t know yet. The doctor who performed the operation passed away eight years ago. We’re working on tracking down his former receptionist now to gain access to his old files. But knowing a member of this town underwent an illegal medical procedure right about the same time four bodies were buried in the woods hardly seems like coincidence.”
“Meaning there could be other locals who visited this same doctor,” Rachel said evenly.
Kimberly nodded. “Absolutely.”
More hands shot up, but she held up her own.
“Hang on,” she said. “We learned other news at the Mountain Laurel, as well. It would appear at least some of the staff isn’t legal. And given that most are young women, it’s highly possible our four victims in the woods have a connection to the bed and breakfast. Unfortunately, because they weren’t all documented, I’m not sure how we can go back fifteen years and search for their identities. But at the very least, we know there’s some kind of human trafficking going on at the Mountain Laurel, whether it’s for low cost help or, worse, organ donor candidates.”
