Kicker shook his head. "Miss Montague was not an official member of this congregation. I am sorry."

"Thank you, Father." Digging a card from my purse, I jotted my cell phone number and handed it to him. "Please call if you think of anything."

"Yes. Of course. So sad. I am so sorry. So sorry. I will pray for her soul."

"Think Kicker's sorry?" Ryan asked as we walked toward Broad.

"Fivefold. Though I may have missed a few before starting my tally."

"What's a parochial vicar?"

"A provincial parson?"

"The Vicar Ricker."

Ryan unlocked the Jeep. I got in and buckled up. The inside temperature was at least seven thousand degrees.

"What next?" Ryan slid behind the wheel.

"AC."

"Yes, ma'am." Ryan cranked the knob. "I jus' love driving Miz Tempe."

"How about this? We buy take-out and have an early lunch with Emma. I shoot the names Unique Montague and Willie Helms to Gullet. While the sheriff works that angle, you and I take another look at Cruikshank's files."

"Sounds like a plan."

Only things didn't go that way.

Gullet was out. I left a message with his switchboard.

Emma didn't answer her home phone. After tracking her down at the coroner's office, I went into my now familiar harangue about stress and rest.

"Relax. I'm limiting myself to non-life-threatening paperwork. Lee Ann filled me in on your encounter with Ramon the Reptile."

"Did she mention Cleopatra the Cat?"

"She did. Lead go anywhere?"

I told Emma about the trail from Dinh to Isabella Halsey to the homeless woman named Unique, and described Cruikshank's unsolicited missing persons files.

"So the Helms and Montague files didn't even contain news clippings?"

"Nothing but handwritten notes."

"Why was Cruikshank investigating Helms and Montague if there were no media reports on their disappearances, and no one hired him to do so?"

"Interesting question."

"Let me get this straight. You think the barrel lady could be Halsey's Unique, and that that Unique could be Cruikshank's Unique Montague."

"Two-part question, Madam Coroner. As to Part A, what are the odds on the cat? As to Part B, Unique's not exactly a common name."

"Worth following up," Emma said.

"I've already started. A priest at St. John the Baptist thought Halsey's Unique had a brother somewhere in the Charleston area. I'll feed that to Gullet. In the meantime, could one of your people take a crack at locating dental records for Willie Helms?"

"Why?"

"Cruikshank was looking into two missing persons completely on his own. He didn't even have news stories of their disappearances. Montague was one, and Helms was the other. I'm thinking Helms could be our Dewees unknown."

"It's a long shot, but I'll get Lee Ann on it. She's superb at sweet-talking dentists."

"You could have been the recipient of crab Rangoon and shrimp lo mein."

"Got a Moon Pie and a Pepsi."

"Probably why you're sick."

"Have a good one."

We did. On the patio at Poogan's Porch. Shrimp and grits for me, chicken Charleston for Ryan. My cell phone rang as we were leaving.

"Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes."

"Father Ricker. At St. John the Baptist."

"Yes, Father."

"Sullivan's Island."

"I'm sorry?" Jesus. It was catching.

"Miss Montague's brother lives on Sullivan's Island. I kept trying to recall her words that day. I remembered that something in our conversation made me think of my childhood. I prayed, and God answered. Sullivan was the name of my very first cat. Sullivan's Island."

"Thank you, Father. That's very helpful."

"The Lord does work in mysterious ways."

"Yes."

Ryan tried Lily as I tried Gullet. He had no luck. I did. This time, the sheriff was in.

I relayed Ricker's information. Though not enthused, Gullet said he'd have an investigator canvass the Montagues on Sullivan's Island.

When I'd disconnected, Ryan asked, "Did you tell me Cruikshank was staking out some treatment center?"

"A clinic operated by GMC. Helene Flynn was working there when she vanished."

"Cruikshank had Unique Montague's name on a file."

"He did."

"Cruikshank was surveilling a free clinic."

"Not a verb. But, yes, he was."

I saw where Ryan was going.

"The clinic provides medical care to the poor and homeless. Unique Montague was poor and homeless." Excited, I twisted toward Ryan. "Maybe that's the connection that interested Cruikshank."

"Maybe."

I couldn't escape the feeling that there was more to it than that.

"This may sound crazy, but something in my gut tells me my two unknowns are linked to each other and to Cruikshank. Maybe even to Helene Flynn."

"I see the Cruikshank-Flynn-clinic link, with maybe a Montague tie-in, but how would the Dewees man fit in?"

"I'm not sure."

"This linkage theory is based on what?"

"Intuition?"

Ryan shot me a "give me a break" look.

I threw up my hands. "Doesn't that define gut feeling?"

Chest-crossing my arms, I slumped back. Ryan was right. Nothing really hooked all four cases together. Cruikshank and Dewees both had the peculiar neck fractures. That linked them. Maybe. Maybe it was coincidence.

The Dewees skeleton had nicks, Cruikshank didn't. I'd sure as hell check the barrel woman's ribs and vertebrae on Monday.

The woman in the barrel was probably Unique Montague. Cruikshank had Montague's name in his files. He had Helene Flynn's name in his files. That connected Flynn and Montague to Cruikshank.

Cruikshank had Willie Helms's name in his files. Could the man on Dewees be Willie Helms? If so, he was linked to Flynn and Montague via Cruikshank.

Was the man on Dewees linked to Cruikshank by the odd neck fractures? If so, was he linked to the others by association with Cruikshank? Was the similarity in fracture patterning simple coincidence? Lots of "if "s swirling around without any "then"s.

I didn't believe in coincidence. What did I believe in?

Hard evidence. Demonstrated facts.

Problem. We had none. Or none that established links. Bone nicks. Neck fractures. An eyelash in a snail shell. Hand-scribbled notes.

A computer disc.

"There are photos of people entering and leaving that clinic," I said. "Cruikshank saved them to CD."

"Was Helene Flynn in any of the images?"

"No," I said. "But Unique could be."

"Where's the disc?"

"Gullet's office."

Suddenly, I was in a froth to revisit that disc.

24

JPEG THIRTY-THREE SHOWED A WOMAN EXITING THE BRICK BUILDING. She had oddly puckered lips and hair tangled wildly around her face.

She also had an infant carrier strapped to her chest.

I couldn't believe I'd forgotten the image.

We were in the sheriff's office. I'd introduced Ryan, explained that he was a cop, and vouched for his discretion. Gullet had been cordial but cool. Or maybe he wasn't listening. It was impossible to read the guy.

This time we were using my laptop to view the CD. Gullet was peering over my shoulder. Ryan was seated on the far side of the room.

"What's that?" Gullet pointed to a shadow curving from the lower end of the baby carrier.

I enlarged the image to full screen and zoomed in. Though the shadow became a hodgepodge of tiny rectangles and squares, it was clear that something solid was snaking from the carrier.

"Cleopatra's tail," I said.

"You sure?" Gullet monotoned behind me.

"Look at the alternating bands of light and dark. I know cats. Those are stripes ringing a cat's tail."

"I'll be jigswiggered."

I peeked over the monitor at Ryan. His brows lifted ever so slightly. I lowered mine. Don't say it.

"What's the story on this Montague woman?" Gullet asked, still studying the patterned curl that was Cleopatra's appendage.