Page 64 of The Bone Hacker


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“Why didn’t Musgrove get a restraining order?”

“She had one.”

The anger was as intense as a physical blow.

“Have you arrested Willis?” Fighting to keep my voice neutral.

“He’s in the wind. I have people doing door to doors, and I’ve issued a BOLO for all islands. Every cop on the force is busting ass on this. We’ll get the sonofabitch.”

I circled back to Monck’s opener.

“And the updates?”

“Over the weekend I talked to the superintendent’s sister, Raina Ewing. Ewing lives on Grand Turk.”

“Musgrove planned to visit her after our meeting with Flores.”

“Ewing says her sister confirmed Friday night that she planned to arrive by two the next day. She never showed up. The pathologist—I forget his name.”

“Harvey Lindstrom.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Anyway, Lindstrom began cutting hisYs Saturday, took a break from the boaters to do the superintendent. You’d think he was the goddam pope, all the glad mouthing about being happy to work on Sunday.” Monck swallowed, looking decidedly unwell. “Anyway, Lindstrom confirmed COD was by manual strangulation. He put TOD at sometime between ten p.m. Friday and four a.m Saturday.”

“Musgrove and I had dinner at Da Conch Shack Friday night. She dropped me off around nine. Willis may have surprised her when she arrived home.”

“That’s our thinking.”

“Any signs of forced entry at the town house?” I asked, cursing myself for not noticing.

“No. But there were indications she put up a good fight.”

Flash image. An overturned table. A broken vase. Scattered flowers. I felt a tremor in my chest. By sheer willpower I flattened it.

“What now?” I asked.

“Now I do what Musgrove would have wanted.”

“Drop a net on the hand-hacking predator taking out tourists?” I ventured.

Monck nodded. “And I start by tracking the new MP.”

“Calvin Cloke?”

Monck nodded again.

“What have you learned so far?” I asked, unable to mask my intense curiosity.

“Cloke is a feeb.”

“Yes, Detective Musgrove had mentioned it. An FBI agent.”

“Specialagent,” Monck stressed, his voice oozing sarcasm.

“Doing what?”

“When I called headquarters in DC, the dude they bounced me to wasn’t exactly forthcoming.”

“Did Cloke travel to Provo on official business?”

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