Bone Secrets 03 - Buried

was thirty when she went missing. Had a decent job as a receptionist at a car dealership, no steady relationship at the time, and no issues with past boyfriends thatwe could find back then. One day she was at work, and the next day she wasn’t. Basically, she vanished.”
    “Basically,
all
these victims vanished. That’s part of this guy’s MO. He really knows how to take people without leaving a freaking clue. They vanish off the radar without a blip.”
    “I haven’t gotten in contact with Henderson’s aunt yet, but there’s an interview with her in the file that the vic had been distraught in the past over the murder of her roommate several years before but had received therapy at some point and had been doing well. For a while, she’d been nearly suicidal.”
    Mason’s Spidey-sense went off. “How many years before she vanished was her roommate murdered? Was that in the same neighborhood?”
    Ray shuffled papers in the background. “Nine. Almost ten years. Ugly scene. And the address is close to where Dawn was living when she disappeared. The roommate was attacked in their home. Name was Sandra Edge. She was sexually abused and then strangled. Dawn Henderson wasn’t home at the time, but she found the victim after.”
    “They catch him?” Hope rose in Mason’s chest.
    “Yep. He’s in Salem.”
    Shit.
“The state pen?” Mason asked. “He’s been locked up this whole time?”
    “I’m looking…yeah, he hasn’t been out at all.”
    “Name?”
    “Lee Fielding.”
    Mason’s brain was working at full speed. There was something here…he could feel it. But the guy had been locked up the whole time? “I still want to talk to him. And would you run a search for the registered sex offenders who were living aroundthe residence…aww crap! That’s before they had to register with the state, isn’t it?”
    “The roommate’s murder occurred a few years before state law had sex offenders registering. And they only had to register for five years at first, but I’ll see what history I can find for that area.”
    “Our tattooed man is plainly a sex offender. Something tells me he’s got to be in the system somewhere. And I still haven’t heard back from the gang unit about his tattoos.” Mason filed a mental note to follow up. “I’ll call and tell the state pen I need to talk to Lee Fielding. Maybe I can get in this afternoon or tomorrow morning.” Mason paused. “I’ve got a good feeling on this one, Ray.”
    “Damn it! Don’t say that! You’ll jinx it, Mason!”
    Mason smiled into his phone as he strode back to his car.

    Mason paced the small interview room at the state prison. The room was so stereotypical; he’d nearly rolled his eyes when he walked in. Painted cinderblocks, small window with bars, and a metal table fastened to the floor with two fastened stools. Impossible to budge. Or use to hit someone over the head. Mason hadn’t had time to review the Sandra Edge murder case. Ray was digging through the files and would get him the highlights as soon as he could.
    Didn’t matter. He just needed to see Fielding. Get a feel for him. The right questions would come when he saw the murderer’s face.
    Two guards appeared with Lee Fielding between them. Fielding had handcuffs attached to his leg irons and shuffledas he walked. The prisoner looked about sixty years old, but Mason knew he was closer to fifty. He was soft everywhere. Soft face, soft hands, soft belly. It looked like the man hadn’t attempted physical exercise since he’d been imprisoned. Mason instinctively sucked in his gut. This guy was too close to his own age, and Mason couldn’t help but compare. He knew he looked decent for his age. The damned graying hair and lines on Mason’s face announced his age, but he made sure his body stayed fit. A home gym and runs through the neighborhood kept away the middle-aged spread. He exercised more out of stress relief than anything else.
    Fielding glanced curiously at Mason as he shuffled by and then plopped himself down on one of the stools with a sigh. His hair had grayed to completely white but had left his eyebrows black. The puffiness of his face kept away most of the lines men get on their face in their fifties, but his demeanor added invisible lines, aging him. He radiated
old
. He gave off the emotional waves of an old man who’d been beaten down. The guard attached a link to the big silver loop on the table and Fielding was fastened into place. A flash of