BRAD COULDN’T TELL KELSEY he thought the skeleton was her father’s remains until he knew for certain. There was no identification in the box with the ring. Evidently, his killer removed those items but forgot the ring.
He had returned to his office to review Carter’s file, but it held no answers. Foul play evidently had not been on Sergeant Warren’s radar. When he had proof that the remains were Carter’s, Brad would contact Warren and see if the new information jarred his memory. Brad dialed Cynthia Allen’s number from his contacts. When she answered, he asked for the name of her ex-husband’s dentist.
The line was silent, then she cleared her throat. “Are you telling me Paul is dead? That you’ve found remains that you think . . .”
“I’m not sure, ma’am. Yes, we have found remains, but I would prefer you not relay that information to anyone until we’re certain one way or the other. Especially not to Kelsey.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. But yes, he did see a dentist here in Memphis. Dr. Gilbert.”
“Is he still practicing?” Brad opened a browser and typed in the dentist’s name and waited. His computer was slow.
“I, uh, I don’t know. He wasn’t my dentist, so I haven’t kept up with him. He was right next to the library on South Highland. I believe the library is closed, and he’s probably not there any longer. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
His search yielded a list of dentists in the Memphis area and two with a last name of Gilbert. “Do you know what his first name was?”
“I don’t remember . . .”
“How about Franklin? Or Clayton?”
“Clayton. I believe that was it.”
“Thanks. It looks as though he may still be practicing.” Brad glanced at the address. “But he’s on Poplar now.”
“I’d like to be there when you tell Kelsey,” Cynthia said. “She already feels terrible about Sabra and Lily having to leave their home. I’m not sure how she’ll react when she learns her father is dead.”
He remembered her reaction when he told her about finding the file. “That would be a good idea.”
Brad had been so focused on Kelsey and the remains that he forgot about her sister and niece. “Did Sabra and Lily get settled in without any problems?”
“Yes. They’re out by the pool with a couple of security people.” There was a hesitation on the line again. “Brad, you keep my daughter safe, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am. But she’s a hard one to rein in.”
“I know. So I’m depending on you to watch after her.”
He thought about Kelsey dangling from the roof of the building on Front Street. Nothing like more pressure. “I’ll do my best.”
He said good-bye to Cynthia and then dialed the number for the dentist. The blurb on the website said they were open Monday through Friday, eight to five. It would be easier to get the information he wanted in person, possibly using his badge—it went a lot further than saying over the phone that he was a sergeant with the MPD.
Twenty minutes later, he found the dentist’s office and parked in the only space left. The man must be good. When he approached the reception window, the receptionist’s eyes widened and focused on the gun on his belt. “M-may I help you?”
He held out his badge. “I’m Sergeant Hollister with the Memphis Police Department. Is there any way I can speak with Dr. Gilbert?”
“He’s with a patient right now. Can you wait until he’s finished?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Brad found an empty seat in the crowded room beside a young mother with a boy who looked to be Lily’s age. He smiled at the towheaded child when he peeked around his mother’s arm. Then he noticed the abundance of small chairs. A pediatric dentist. His hopes crashed, and he debated whether he should even wait. Just as he was about to leave, a nurse opened the door and called his name.
“Dr. Gilbert said to bring you to his office and he’ll be with you momentarily,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.” He followed her to the dentist’s office, and she closed the door behind her when she left. Guess the gun was bad for business. He perused the diplomas on the wall, quickly realizing this was not the dentist he was looking for. The door opened, and Brad turned as a man his age entered the office. He held out his hand. “Sorry to have bothered you, Dr. Gilbert, but I was looking for a much older man.”
“Probably my father, but may I ask why?”
“I have remains that I believe belong to a patient of Dr. Clayton Gilbert—Paul Carter.”
“Yes, Clayton Gilbert is my father, but he’s retired. However—”
“Then he’s still living?” Hope rose in Brad’s chest.
“Yes. And all his records are stored at his house.” Gilbert grinned. “He’s an armchair detective now and actually dreamed of the day someone would need them.”
Brad couldn’t believe his luck. “Do you think he could see me this afternoon?”
“Let me give him a call.”
A few minutes later, Brad left the dentist’s office with an address in Germantown and a retired dentist anxious to see him.
Dr. Clayton Gilbert met him at his front door, his faded blue eyes dancing. “Come in,” he said. “As soon as we hung up, I searched for Paul Carter’s records, and they’re on the kitchen table.”
He followed the older man down a hallway lined with framed photos. One, a sunset over water, caught his eye. Somehow the photographer had caught a sailboat in the setting sun. “Did you take these photos?” he asked.
“Yes. After I retired, I discovered I had a little talent for photography.”
Little? These photos were professional quality. Then he realized he’d fallen behind the dentist, who moved faster than a lot of detectives he knew. In fact, as agile and young-looking as Gilbert was, Brad wondered why he had retired.
X-rays attached to a metal clip and dental charts were spread out on the island workstation in a kitchen that would be a chef’s dream. Gleaming cookware hung from the ceiling over an island that held a prep sink. His mother would love this kitchen. “Your wife must love to cook,” he said.
A shadow crossed the older man’s face. “She did.”
A tender subject. Brad turned his attention to the X-rays. “In the skull we have, there’s a gold crown on the bottom right jaw. Is that consistent with your files?”
Gilbert held the clip to the light and pointed to the third X-ray from the top. “See this one? That’s a gold crown.” He set it on the table and picked up a larger panorama X-ray. “And here it is again. There should be several large fillings in the bottom teeth, as well.”
Sadness tempered Brad’s satisfaction of knowing the identity of the victim. It was hard enough giving bad news to families he didn’t know. In spite of her seeming indifference to her dad, his news would shake Kelsey. “Do you have a folder to put these in?”
He didn’t need Dr. Gilbert’s help to deliver the X-rays to the medical examiner, but one glance at Dr. Gilbert’s wistful eyes, and he said, “Do you have time to come with me to the West Tennessee Forensic Center and show these to Dr. Caldwell? I’ll be glad to bring you back home.”
“You bet. Other than playing a little golf and tinkering around with my camera, I don’t do that much. Not since my wife died. She was the only reason I retired. Edith wanted to travel, and I was always too busy with the practice.” He sighed. “At least we had two years.”
In the car Brad said, “Have you thought about going back to your practice?”
Gilbert fastened his seat belt. “No, but I am thinking about doing mission work. There are people right here in Memphis who need dental work and can’t afford it.”
Brad knew a few of them. “If you ever have time, I help out at a youth center. There are kids there who have never been to the dentist. And it’d be great if you could teach a photography class. We’re always looking for something to get the kids involved in.”
“Let me think about it.”
Brad didn’t want to give him too long to think—inertia would set in. “How about going with me this Saturday?”
“Let me check on something first.” Gilbert took out his phone and scrolled through it. “I can do it,” he said. “I couldn’t remember when my granddaughter’s birthday was, but it’s next weekend. This will give me something to look forward to.”
Rachel was with the medical examiner when they arrived, and after Brad made the introductions, he said, “I thought it’d be to our advantage for Dr. Gilbert to match the teeth to the X-rays.”
“Good thinking,” Dr. Caldwell said.
When the dentist finished his examination, he nodded. “The X-rays definitely match these teeth, and in my professional opinion, they belong to my patient, Paul Carter.”
Brad hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he exhaled. “Now the hard part begins—who killed him and why.”
“Yeah,” Rachel echoed. “And how does a twenty-eight-year-old murder relate to the two murders last week?”
He picked up the ring on the table. “I have another question for you. Who sent the bones to the museum and why? Obviously, the sender knew the remains were Paul Carter’s. Why not just come forward with them?”
“If I might add my two cents,” Caldwell said, “it sounds like two people are involved and one turned on the other.”
“Or,” Brad said, “the sender, whether the killer or an accomplice, wanted the family to have closure but didn’t want to be implicated.”
“A killer with a conscience? That would be a twist,” Rachel said. “But why now?”
Why indeed? “Until we know, I suggest we keep the identity of the bones under wraps,” Brad said. “In fact, I suggest we don’t reveal any information on the bones. See who that shakes up.”