'You look pretty satisfied with yourself,' Amos Geary said when they were on their way back to town in PCTER's car.
'What do you mean?' Peter asked self-consciously.
He had been reliving his kiss with Donna.
'She's not someone to play with. Donna's been through a lot. If you're not serious about her, don't start anything.'
'Jesus, Amos, give me some credit, will you,' Peter protested.
'Given your track record, I decided to be blunt.'
'Hey, the old Peter is gone.'
'We'll see.'
They drove on in silence for a while. Peter drifted back to thoughts of love, but Geary was thinking*about something else. After a while, he let out a long breath.
'What?' Peter asked.
'I was thinking about that poor girl. The police have lost so much time that I don't think they'll ever catch Whiley's killer.'
'We know it's not Mammon. I haven't ruled out Steve, but it's pretty unlikely that he killed her if O'Shay is telling the truth.'
'Which she may not be doing. just thinking about O'Shay makes me sick.'
'Something just occurred to me Ridgely should check on Steve's alibi for the time when those other two women were killed. With all the excitement, we forgot that the person who killed Whiley probably killed them, too.'
'Earl's no dummy. I'm sure he's already thought about seeing if he can tie Mancini into the other killings.
I'll say one thing-whoever committed those murders is one sick son of a bitch. Killing someone is bad enough, but butchering a defenseless woman with a hatchet, like she was some kind of farm animal.
Geary lapsed into silence at the thought of such senseless slaughter. Suddenly, Peter pulled the car over to the side of the road. Geary wasn't wearing a seat belt and he was thrown forward. Fortunately, he caught the dashboard with his hands.
'What the fuck is wrong with you?' Geary shouted.
Peter wasn't listening. He looked stunned.
'Hale, are you having some sort of yuppie fn? Talk to me.71 Peter turned slowly. He looked pale.
'The hatchet. My God, I didn't even think ... We've got to go to the office and look up something in Mammon's file.'
'What are you talking about?'
Instead of answering, Peter hit the accelerator and Geary was thrown back into his seat.
'I'll explain on the way,' Peter said, as Geary hurriedly fastened his seat belt.
'Is this where we turn?' Peter asked.
'I'm not certain,' Geary answered.
'I thought you lived here most of your life.'
'I'm a lawyer, not a goddamn surveyor. Now, shut up and give me a minute.'
Geary studied a map of Whitaker and the surrounding area while Peter impatiently drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
'Okay. This is the road that was listed in the police report in Mammon's file.'
Peter drove a mile up an unpaved, dirt track. There was a full moon and they soon saw the object of their search. Peter stopped in front of the dilapidated house.
'You're sure this is legal?' Peter asked.
'It's not legal. It's breaking and entering. But we aren't working for the government, so Earl can use any evidence we find at trial while we are serving our sentence for burglary.'
'Thanks for clearing that up. I feel much better now,' Peter said, as he tried the door. It wasn't locked. Peter had brought along a flashlight, but Geary flipped on a light switch and he didn't need it.
'Looks like the electricity is still paid up,' Geary commented.
'God! What's that smell?'
Both men winced as a sour and fetid odor assailed them. It was the essence of the decay that permeated the house. Flies buzzed around rotting pizza crusts and decomposing cheese that hung on the sides of oil-stained pizza boxes. Unwashed clothes lay in clumps on the couch.
'This place is a fucking sty,' Peter declared.
'Let's search it fast, so we can get out of here,' Geary said.
They split up, Peter taking the bedroom and bathroom and Geary searching the living room and kitchen.
The search did not take long, since the house was so small.
'Anything?' Peter asked.
'Not a thing,' Geary answered when they both finished.
'I was so sure.'
'Your reasoning is sound. He probably killed the women somewhere else.'
'I guess,' Peter answered dejectedly.
Peter walked outside. Geary turned out the lights and shut the door. Peter was about to get in the car when he froze.
A 'What's that?' he asked.
Geary looked where Peter was pointing. Another house could barely be made out in the moonlight.
'It's worth a look now that we're out here.'
The two men turned on their flashlights and walked a dusty quarter mile. It was not until they reached the shack that they could tell it was deserted, but there was a padlock on the door.
'What do we do now?' Peter asked.
Geary raised his foot and kicked the door with all the force his near three hundred pounds could bring to the task. The rotting door splintered and gave. A second kick and it swung inward. An odor, different and more foul than the one they had smelled in the other house, assailed Peter when he crossed the threshold. He clamped his hand over his mouth and moved the flashlight beam around the interior of the shack.
'Holy shit!' he whispered when the beam found the bloodstained mattress pushed up against the far wall.
Geary was speechless. Peter moved his beam around the floor and gagged when he realized that almost every square inch was encrusted with dried blood.
'Peter,' Amos called. Peter looked at the corner of the room that Geary's beam was illuminating. He saw piles of women's clothes, a purse and two wallets.
'What do you want to bet that one of those wallets belongs to Sandra Whiley?' Geary asked.
'If you're right, I'm not going to be the one who discovers it. Let's get out of here and call the police.'
Kevin Booth was asleep when Earl Ridgely entered his hospital room followed by members of the Major Crime Team. He stirred when the nurse turned on the lights, then sat up.
'What's going on?' Booth asked, rubbing his eyes as he searched for the clock. Then he saw how many people were in his room.
'I have a few questions for you, Kevin,' Ridgely said.
'It's three in the morning, for Christ's sake. Can't this wait?'
'Actually, no.' Ridgely pulled a chair next to Booth's bed. 'But I promise not to take up too much of your time. First, though, I'm going to give you your Miranda rights.'
Ridgely took a laminated card out of his wallet and read Booth his rights. Booth looked at Ridgely as if the D.A. was insane.
'What is this?' Booth asked when Ridgely was through.
'Can you explain why Sandra Whiley's wallet and the clothing of Emily Curran and Diane Fetter were found in a shack less than a quarter mile from your house and by the floor of the shack was covered with blood?'
w 'What ... what are you talking about? What shack?'
'Kevin, at this very moment, fingerprint technicians are going over every inch of the shack and forensic experts are combing it for hair, fibers and other trace evidence.'
