the Killing Game (1999) Johansen| Iris - Eve Duncan 02 Unknown publisher (2011)

The Killing Game (1999)

Eve Duncan 02

Iris Johansen

Chapter ONE

Talladega Falls, Georgia

January 20

6:35 A.M.

The skeleton had been in the ground for a long time. Joe Quinn had seen enough of them to recognize that. But how long?

He turned to Sheriff Bosworth. "Who found it?"

"Two hikers. They stumbled on it late last night. Those rains the past few days washed it out of the ground. Hell, that storm slid half the mountain into the falls. A real gully washer." His gaze narrowed on Joe's face. "You must have hotfooted up here from Atlanta as soon as you heard about it."

"Yes."

"You think it's connected to one of the Atlanta PD's cases?"

"Maybe." He paused. "No. This is an adult."

"You're looking for a kid?"

"Yes." Every day. Every night. Always. He shrugged. "The initial report didn't say whether it was an adult or a child."

Bosworth bristled. "So? I never have to make reports like this. We're pretty crime free here. Not like Atlanta."

"You knew enough to recognize possible knife wounds to the skeleton's rib cage. But I do admit our problems are a little different. What's your population?"

"Don't come up here and slam me, Quinn. We've got a strong law enforcement body. We don't need any city cops messing around our jurisdiction."

He'd made a mistake, Joe thought wearily. He hadn't slept in nearly twenty-four hours, but that was no excuse. It was always an error to criticize local police even when they were taking potshots at you. Bosworth was probably a good cop, and he'd been polite until Joe cast aspersions on how he did his job. "I'm sorry. No offense."

"I do take offense. You have no idea what our problems are here. Do you know how many tourists we have every year? And how many get lost or hurt in these mountains? We may not have murderers or drug dealers, but we take care of every one of our citizens besides those tenderfeet who come up from Atlanta and camp in our parks and fall down in gorges and mess up--"

"Okay, okay." Joe held up his hand in surrender. "I said I was sorry. I didn't mean to downplay your problems. I guess I'm a little jealous." His gaze wandered out over the mountains and the falls. Even with Bosworth's men climbing all over, taping and scouring the area, it was still unbelievably beautiful. "I'd like to live here. It would be nice to wake up every morning to all this peace."

Bosworth was slightly appeased. "It's God's country. The Indians used to call the falls 'the place of tumbling moonlight.' " He scowled. "And we don't find skeletons like this. This must be one of yours. Our people don't kill each other and toss the bodies into the ground."

"Perhaps. It's a long way to transport a body. But in this wilderness, it would be quite a while before a corpse is discovered."

Bosworth nodded. "Hell, if it hadn't been for the rains and the mud slide, we might not have found it for twenty, thirty years."

"Who knows? It might be that long already. I'll get out of your way. I'm sure your medical examiner will want to get at the bones and examine them."

"We have a coroner. He's the local undertaker." Bosworth added quickly, "But Pauley's always willing to ask for help when he needs it."

"He'll need it. If I were you, I'd make a formal request to our pathology department. They're usually willing to cooperate."

"Could you do it for us?"

"I can't. I'll be glad to put in a word, but I'm here in an unofficial capacity."

Bosworth frowned. "You didn't say that. You just flashed your badge and started asking me questions." His eyes suddenly widened. "My God, you're Quinn."

"It's no secret. I told you that."

"But I didn't make the connection. I've been hearing about you for years. The skeleton man. Three years ago you were over in Coweta County checking out two skeletons found there. Then there was that body found in the swamps near Valdosta. You were down there too. And that skeleton up near Chattanooga that you--"

"Word does get around, doesn't it?" Joe smiled sardonically. "I'd think you'd have better things to talk about. So? Do the stories make me some kind of urban legend?"

"No, just a curiosity. You're looking for those kids, aren't you? The ones Fraser killed and then refused to tell where he'd buried them." He frowned. "That was almost ten years ago. I'd think you'd give up."

"Their parents haven't given up. They want their children home for proper burial." He looked down at the skeleton. "Most victims belong to someone somewhere."

"Yeah." Bosworth shook his head. "Kids. I never understand why anyone would kill a kid. It makes me sick."

"Me too."

"I've got three kids. I guess I'd feel the same way those parents do. God, I hope I never find out." Bosworth was silent a moment. "Those cases must have been closed when Fraser was executed. It's mighty decent of you to keep trying to find those children on your own time."

One child. Eve's child. "It's not decent. It's just something I've got to do." He turned away. "Thanks for putting up with me, Sheriff. Call me if I can act as liaison between your coroner and the Atlanta PD."