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“You know how they say you’re supposed to let sleeping dogs lie? Well, I’m shit at that. And this whole thing with Seamus has been bothering the fuck out of me.”
I can see why it would bebothering him. There are some slightly more disturbing theories that Dorsey’s floated out about why Seamus’s body is missing from the FBI burial plot.
Grave robbery. Fuckingcorpse worship. People who idolize serial killers have been known to steal parts of their bodies, or even theirwholebodies, because of their fascination with them. There’s even a black market for this shit, and peoplepay.Dorsey said the FBI busted some guy selling the Ashville Axe Murderer’s dick on the dark web for a hundred grand.
And people callmeunhinged.
“Look, Dorsey said all that weird graverobber shit has happened before, especially with high profile cases like O’Conor. Supremely sick, but not unusual.”
Hades nods. “Maybe. But it’s been bugging me, so I started digging into some other stuff with this Coal Creek place and called in a few more favors.” His mouth thins. “So, this Dr. Thompson… She gets permission from the DOJ and the FBI to do these little off-the-record psych evaluations of O’Conor. For her book, yeah? But the book was never published.”
Castle frowns. “Dorsey covered that. Bureaucracy, man. Someone new gets elected, who puts in a new FBI Chief, and things get shuffled around. They cut the program.”
Hades nods. “Well, then I looked into the good doctor’s assistants. There were three of them at Coal Creek.”
My brow furrows. “And?”
“They’re all dead.”
A dark energy starts to throb deep in my chest.
“One from cancer, so that’s above board—”
“Hades…” Castle frowns. “I’m a skeptical guy myself. But what are you talking about, a conspiracy of some kind?”
“Well, the second assistant was pushed out of a ten-story window in a robbery where nothing was actually stolen. And thethirdone committed suicide with a Magnum to the chest. So… You tell me.”
My mouth draws to a line and Castle’s face goes dark. “That’s a big fucking gun to shootyourselfin the chest with.”
Hades nods. “It’d be hard. I’d call it damned near impossible if you’re a hundred-and-two-pound woman, which the victim was—”
“Where are you going with his?” I growl, my heart thudding, my hand twitching restlessly by my side.
“Dorsey mentioned Seamus had conjugal visits, even after the whole psych thing got shut down.”
“And?”
“And I dug up—” he smiles and corrects himself. “Well, the middle-management DOJ agent, whovery muchdoesn’t want his wife seeing the video I have of him and two extremely friendly male escorts, dug them up. But, here.” He unlocks his phone and shoves it towards me. “Conjugal visitation records from Florence ADX.”
“We’ve seen these.”
He shakes his head. “We saw the records of O’Conor’s visits frombeforethe Coal Creek observations. These are from during and after.”
I frown at the black bars over the photocopy of a sign-in sheet. “With the names redacted?”
“My guy swore that’s nothing he could get around. Standard practice, I guess. Maybe there was a new bureaucrat at the prison. But look to the left.”
My eyes slide over to the column of dates and then times running down the side.
“What the fuck am I supposed to be looking at here?”
“The check in times.”
“They’re all the same.”
He nods grimly. “Same checkouttimes, too. Which is less weird once you know that Florence has strict time-slots. You only get an hour and a half to get your fuck on during a conjugal. But it’s that same check-intime for every one that got my attention.
“Could be when visiting hours start,” Castle grunts.
