Afterlife by Douglas Clegg Read Free Book Online

said, his voice barely more than a mumble. “I’d rather catch this guy before he does it again.”
    “I’ve never seen these people before,” she said. The sound of her own voice, weary and flat, made her feel heavier.
    The pictures: two women and a man. Eyes closed. Empty shells of human beings. Gone.
    Her half-Catholic, half-Episcopalian upbringing reared up in her. Their spirits have flown. They are in God’s hands. They are in heaven. Or some other finer place. Beyond trouble. Beyond this world.
    Beyond the grasp of the one who killed them.
    “There’s another picture,” McGuane said. “Inside.”
    She checked the folder. Under a thin piece of onionskin paper, one last photograph.
    It was a man’s back. Perhaps it was Hut’s. Nothing reminded her of him, but she had barely recognized him in the morgue, so she didn’t expect to identify him without seeing his face. That was why pictures like this were safe. They could be of anyone and no one at the same time.
    All kinds of circles and drawings were carved into the man’s back, from the shoulder blades down to the small of the back, just above the buttocks.
    “Do you have any idea what this might be?”
    Julie shook her head.
    “He carves things into the bodies. He has a ritual. We know a little about what the symbols are. We just don’t know where they lead us.”
    Julie remembered the carving on Matt’s arm. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s nothing like this. Matt’s arm and this man’s back have different things on them. Don’t let your mind go with this, Julie. Don’t.
    “No idea. What is it? They’re like tattoos.”
    “Can I see?” Mel asked.
    Julie glanced at McGuane who gave a slight shrug. Mel got up and went over to retrieve the picture. After glancing at it, Mel said, “You’re making her look at this kind of stuff, now?”
    McGuane kept his composure. “We want to do everything we can to stop this guy.”
    “It’s all right, Mel. Really,” Julie said. “We should help. I want to. I want to see who…what kind of monster…” She covered her face with her hands.
    Just go away, she thought. Everyone go away. Let it be someone else who loses their husband. Not me. Let it be anyone else. Hut, where are you? Why did you leave? Why aren’t you here with me?
    Mel and McGuane started talking. Mel went to sit down on the two steps that led up to the dining area, at the edge of the room. Julie felt she could shut them all out. Just block them, like she were a child with her hands over her ears.
    Then, she brought her hands down from her face. They were still there. They watched her as if she were something that were about to break.
    “We’ve tried to locate the orphanage,” McGuane said.
    She glanced up from the pictures. “The what?”
    “Orphanage. Where your husband grew up.”
    She hesitated before speaking. She tried to grasp his meaning. “He had parents.”
    McGuane glanced at her sharply.
    “Tell me,” she said. “What is it?”
    “Nothing,” McGuane said. “Nothing at all.”
    “I know he was adopted,” Julie said. “But he was little. Three or four. I think four.”
    “Mrs. Hutchinson, your husband wasn’t adopted until he was sixteen. Before that he was a ward of the state of New York.”
    “ What? ”
    “He was part of a special program, Mrs. Hutchinson. It was the 1970s, and there was some special aptitude your husband had to qualify for this program. As a boy.”
    “Are you sure you mean my husband? Jeff Hutchinson?”
    McGuane nodded. “I’m sorry that you weren’t aware. I assumed that your husband would have informed you about his past. About his childhood.”
    She sat there, stunned.
    “Did you ever speak with his adoptive parents about his past?”
    “No,” she said, her face reddening. “What…what kind of program was he in?”
    McGuane gave what looked to her like an ironic grin. “Not sure yet. I was hoping you could tell me, actually.”
    “I have no idea,” she said, her voice taking on