The Haunted Bones
know my daughter was fucking
that bitch next door. All those times that bitch was so nice, I
thought she liked me . But she…" The guy looked genuinely upset. "She took
advantage of my little girl and made her into one of those
homos."
    Julie snorted.
    "And you couldn't let that continue?" Meehan
asked.
    "No, no…" Cahan kept fidgeting. "And
Birch—well, he liked to watch. So he just let it happen again and
again. When I found the diary behind the fireplace, I knew I had
the evidence I needed to justify what needed to be done. But then
the diary disappeared."
    I frowned. "Fireplace?" I looked at Vale. "I
don't remember a fireplace. That building doesn't meet the code for
one."
    Vale looked over at the
uniformed officer by the door. "Yarrow, take McPherson and Hemdale
and check out the store next to The Alley
Haunt ."
    "Here." I reached into my pocket for my keys
and handed Vale the right set. "I got those from the bank."
    Vale gave them to Yarrow before he left.
    "…had to dig pretty deep," Cahan was saying.
"That's when I found all them bones."
    Bones?
    Meehan stopped writing. "Bones? You found
bones in the wall between the two businesses?"
    Cahan nodded. "Yes. Most of that wall is
cinder block, except for this one spot where the fireplace was. But
see the fireplace never worked because it never had a flue, so I
just bricked it up and covered it in wallpaper. But on the other
side of the wall is that bar and the damned mirror."
    "That's why I could reach my hand through."
Julie said. "There's just a brick wall between the two rooms."
    "Or a double-bricked wall," Vale
interjected. "If he found bones in there, we have to find out where
he put them."
    "Did you know who the bones belonged to,
Randall?" Meehan said in a gentle voice.
    "No…" Cahan shook his head. "They'd been
there a long time 'cause they were mostly just dust and bits of
hair."
    Meehan paused. "Where did you put these
bones, Randall?"
    "They're still there." He looked wild-eyed.
"Someone was buried there, so I didn't want to disturb them."
    "Oh fuck, that's creepy—" Julie's eyes
widened as she looked up at me. "Wait—you don't think the odd
picture of that woman is…?"
    I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I do." I looked down
at her. "I think that's where he found the bones."
    The interrogation went
pretty much the same to the end, with a few more questions. Cahan
said someone called him and told him I was the one stirring up
trouble to buy the place. Cahan had canceled his lease to the
adjoining place after The Alley
Haunt closed down, mainly because he knew
the place couldn't continue because he killed everyone.
    What Vale wanted to know was who called
Randall. "Because it seems to me they wanted to make trouble for
you, Devan."
    "It sounds like that." I told him about
sending the image to my friend at the GBI.
    "We solved this murder using your pictures,"
Vale commented as the three of us walked down the hall. "And if we
find the bones, maybe we can solve a murder of a missing woman?" He
smiled. "I'd just like to keep the use of your…pictures…out of the
media, if you don't mind."
    My shoulder was really starting to throb.
Reconsidering painkillers was now back on the agenda. "Got no
problem here."
    We walked a few feet. "You think if you took
pictures of other places, the same thing would turn up?" Julie
said.
    I shrugged as a familiar set of legs turned
the corner ahead of us. The legs were attached to a statuesque
body, wrapped lavishly in a tight-fitting black business suit. Her
blond hair was pulled up to reveal a perfect neck.
    Llse Wallace.
    Julie made a rude noise as Llse approached
us.
    "Ms. Wallace," Vale said. "Why are you here
so late?"
    "Hello, Captain, Detective Brenner." Her
eyes didn't linger on me. "McNally."
    I didn't respond.
    "I'm here because I have something for Mr.
McNally." She handed me an envelope.
    It was sort of purple and someone had
scrawled my full name on the front with a calligraphy pen. Cute. I
took the envelope and opened it.

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