The Missing Page 0,82

tracked Slavick through his IP address, didn’t you?’

‘We’ve traded information. Now it’s your turn.’

‘We found a shed in the back of a house equipped with the same prison cells we saw in the pictures with Carol Cranmore. The house belongs to Daniel Boyle. I’m willing to bet he set up Slavick to take the fall.’

Evan didn’t answer.

‘Sounds like you guys are going to have a real PR disaster on your hands,’ Darby said. ‘I hope it doesn’t make the news. They’ll drag the story out all year, don’t you think? No, probably not. You guys will find a way to bury it. When it comes to hiding the truth, nobody does it better than the federal government.’

‘Where’s Boyle?’

‘He’s dead.’

‘You killed him?’

‘Banville did.’ She gave Evan the address. ‘Don’t forget to bring the chopper.’

Darby hung up. She closed her eyes and pressed the ice pack against her face. The skin was cold and numb.

Chapter 65

The Black Hawk made two runs over the woods and failed to find a heat signature. Either Boyle had killed Carol several days ago or her body was buried too deep.

The search for the graves would resume tomorrow morning at eight, when the New Hampshire state police showed up with cadaver-sniffing dogs. It was their case now.

Forensic technicians from the state lab had arrived shortly before midnight and divided themselves into two teams – one to process the house, and the other to work the crime scene in the woods.

Evan wasn’t allowed access to either the woods or the house. He spent most of his time on the phone, pacing near the far end of the lawn, under the oak trees. Darby spent her time going over her statement with two of Holloway’s detectives.

Banville trotted out of the woods, looking drained. ‘Holloway found Boyle’s wallet, phone and keys – lots of keys,’ he said. ‘How much youwant to bet one of those keys belongs to Slavick’s house?’

‘I doubt the feds will let us anywhere near it until we allow them access to Boyle’s house.’

‘What’s Manning been up to?’

‘He’s been working the phone. I’m sure Zimmerman and his band of merry elves will be here any moment trying to weasel their way in. They’ve got to be real nervous now that they know they killed the wrong man.’

‘Boyle had one of those BlackBerry phones in his pocket,’ Banville said. ‘Holloway took a look at it. He didn’t find any email, but the phone keeps a log of all incoming and outgoing calls. Boyle called someone at nine-eighteen tonight.’

‘Who was he calling?’

‘Don’t know yet. The call lasted roughly forty-six seconds. Holloway said it’s a Massachusetts area code. He’s tracking down the number now. Have you talked with Manning?’

‘No. He hasn’t said anything to me.’

‘Good. Keep it that way. Let the asshole sweat for a change.’

Banville’s phone rang. His face changed.

‘Dianne Cranmore,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to take this. Then I’ll see if I can get someone to drive you home – don’t fight me on this, Darby. I don’t want you here when the feds arrive. I’ll take the heat for this. If anyone asks, I ordered you to come along.’

Darby was watching two men from the coroner’s office carrying out a body bag on a stretcher when Evan stepped up next to her.

‘The swelling on your face still looks pretty bad. You should put some more ice on it.’

‘I’ll grab some on the way home.’

‘Are you heading out?’

‘As soon as Banville finds me a ride,’ Darby said.

‘I can drive you.’

‘You’re not sticking around?’

‘I’m not too popular right now.’

‘I can’t imagine why.’

‘How about we call a truce and you let me drive you home? Better yet, why don’t you let me drive you to a hospital?’

‘I don’t need to go to the hospital.’

‘Then I’ll take you home.’

Darby glanced at her watch. It was well after midnight. If Banville couldn’t get someone here to give her a ride, she’d have to call Coop or wait for one of Banville’s men to come up here. Either way, she wouldn’t be back in Belham until at least three a.m. But if she left now, with Evan, she could get home at a reasonable hour, get some sleep and arrive here well rested for tomorrow morning’s search.

‘Let me tell Banville,’ Darby said.

Inside the car, Darby watched the passenger’s side rearview mirror and stared at the blinking pulse of blue and white lights grow smaller and dimmer. Some part of her felt as though she were abandoning Carol.

When the glow of lights finally disappeared,

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