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Dead Center

Page 14

by Susan Sleeman


  “I was nine. Started a year behind the others.” He shoved the shifter into park with extra force.

  She searched his face. “Something wrong?”

  “Wrong?” He pulled out the keys. “Let’s grab that cooler and get out of here.”

  She climbed out of the truck and trailed him across the grimy parking lot. She knew he was sidestepping her question. Something was bothering him about his early football days, which made little sense since he seemed to love the sport. A mystery, for sure. One she was compelled to investigate.

  Grady set down their cooler with ice under a tall tree outside the crime scene tape about ten feet from the gravesite. Ainslie reached inside for a frosty bottle of water. Grady had shut down on her in the SUV, and she’d noticed. But he couldn’t very well tell her he started playing football as an excuse not to hang out with Uncle Tommy anymore. And Grady wasn’t about to lie to her. So the only answer was to shut his big mouth and ignore her questioning looks.

  “So, you’re like a hotshot weapons guy, huh?” Sheriff Murphy marched up to them. He eyed Grady, a hint of challenge in the guy’s expression.

  He might be pushing Grady, but it was better than pretending to ignore Ainslie’s questioning glances. “Not sure I’d call myself a hotshot, but yes, I’m the weapons expert at the Veritas Center.”

  “Don’t suppose you ever worked in law enforcement.” That same challenge rode on his tone that Grady often got from law enforcement officers questioning his credentials. But this guy seemed a little over the top. Maybe compensating for something.

  “Nope.” Grady left it at that. If the sheriff had a chip on his shoulder, Grady wasn’t going to come out on the top of any discussion with him, so what was the point of saying anything more?

  His eyebrows went up toward the well-worn cowboy hat. “You into long guns?”

  “Sure.” Grady was glad for a question he didn’t mind answering. “If it fires a bullet, I’m into it.”

  Murphy hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and cocked his head. “What’s your take on those high priced optics?”

  “Optics?”

  “Yeah, I mean anyone who needs high priced optics isn't a real expert in my book.” He started rocking on his boots. “A true expert can hit what he aims at with his superior marksmanship skills.”

  “And let me guess.” Grady didn’t at all try to hide his sarcasm now. “You’re a real expert.”

  “Yeah, I’ve honed my skills. So no need for the pricey equipment. I can do the same job with less expensive equipment.”

  Grady had to bite his tongue not to respond. Murphy had no idea what he was talking about. Ainslie stood up and looked at him as if she really wanted to hear his answer. But there was no point in putting Murphy in his place and embarrassing him in front of Ainslie.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get some water to Kelsey and Sierra.” Grady pretended he didn’t realize Ainslie was already taking out water bottles for the workers.

  A snide grin slid across Murphy’s face. “Yeah, I figured you couldn’t dispute that.”

  Grady gritted his teeth, grabbed a sports drink for himself, and started for Sierra and Kelsey, who both looked wilted.

  “You didn’t answer him.” Ainslie fell into step beside him. “But it looked like you were dying to say something.”

  “Oh, man, I was.” He smiled at her. “He was wrong, but I didn’t want to embarrass him.”

  “That was kind of you.”

  “Didn’t see any point in it.”

  She stopped and turned to face him. “So tell me what you would have said to him. That way you can get it out and let go of your frustration.”

  “It’s pretty technical.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll pretend to understand.” She wrinkled her freckled nose, looking like an adorable little imp.

  He grinned at her. He really liked this woman. Way too much.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “I’m all ears.”

  He didn’t have to be told again. “The less expensive optics—sights—that Murphy mentioned tend to have a larger dot measured by MOA—Minute Of Angle. That equals about one inch at one hundred yards. A cheaper sight could have a MOA of four or more while a more expensive sight will have either one or two, and with even higher prices comes even less MOA like one-half or less. So a one hundred yard target sighted in with a MOA of four could mean a miss by four inches. Which could mean missing the target altogether.”

  “You’re right, super technical.” She grinned again. “So what I heard is that you’re more accurate with higher priced optics, and if Murphy used them, he would be more accurate at hitting his target.”

  “You got it. I guess I could’ve just said that.” He chuckled.

  “But then you wouldn’t have explained it, and Murphy wouldn’t have been schooled in optics.”

  He nodded. “Thanks for letting me get it out. You’re right. It did help.”

  They shared a brief smile and moment, but Ainslie broke it off and started walking again. She stopped short of the actual grave. She would know not to let condensation from the bottles drip into the area where they were digging. She held up the water bottles. “Break time.”

  Kelsey stood, brushed off her knees, then ripped off her gloves. She’d removed the top layers of a rectangular area big enough to hold the body of a thirteen-year-old boy. On the near side, a skull protruded from the dirt.

  “You found him.” Grady’s heart was heavy with the discovery.

  She nodded. “Or at least I found a skull that preliminarily tells me belonged to a male.”

  “You can tell that from the little bit that we can see?” Ainslie held out the drinks.

  “Yes, but the best way to determine sex is by looking at the pelvic bones, which are obviously not revealed yet.” Kelsey took the water and cracked open the bottle. “But males tend to have larger skulls than females, and their eye sockets have a slightly blunter surface. They also have, on average, greater muscle development and more rugged muscle attachments. So this skull says a lot.”

  She took a long chug of the water.

  Murphy trudged over and scowled at the grave. “Any way to tell if this is Neil?”

  “Not yet,” Kelsey said. “Ethan mentioned that Neil was strangled and that he heard a gunshot after the fact but didn’t find any blood. The first thing I’ll likely uncover that can give us a clue is the hyoid bone located in the anterior midline of his neck. If it’s broken that would indicate strangulation. Next we should see his shirt.”

  “His shirt, after all these years?” Murphy asked.

  “His parents said he was wearing polyester, and it takes a good twenty years to decompose.”

  Murphy’s scowl deepened. “Neil’s been missing for eighteen, so that fits the window.”

  Kelsey nodded. “There’s a likelihood that it’ll still be identifiable, and we can match it to pictures in his file.”

  Murphy gave a sharp nod. “Gotta love polyester.”

  Kelsey looked at the sheriff. “And if he had been shot, and it wasn’t a through and through, the bullet will be in the grave with him.”

  “I want to know the minute you find that if you do.”

  “I can do that. I’m assuming you either have or can get Neil’s medical records.”

  “Got ’em in his file.”

  “Do you know if he sustained any broken bones?”

  Murphy shrugged.

  “He did,” Ainslie said. “When we were in elementary school, he had a nasty compound fracture of his femur. I remember because he had a cast for a good long time.”

  Kelsey looked at the sheriff. “I’ll need the X-rays from that break. It’ll be the fastest way to officially ID him. Of course, DNA is the final test, but I’m confident in making an ID by comparing the femur I recover here to the X-ray.”

  “I’ll head back to the office, and if we don’t have the X-ray, I’ll hunt it down.” Murphy gestured at the grave. “How long is this gonna take?”
r />   “A day. Maybe longer, but we’ll work through the night.” Kelsey took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring. “These parents have suffered long enough. Time to give them some closure.”

  “Agreed,” Murphy said, for the first time not butting heads with someone.

  “Have you talked to Mr. and Mrs. Orr yet?” Ainslie asked.

  He nodded. “Just briefly to tell them they were gonna hear things on the grapevine and not to believe any of it. That I’d update them as soon as we know anything official.”

  Kelsey took another swig on the bottle then brushed the back of her hand against her forehead and looked at Grady. “Can you and Ainslie get the lights set up?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay, then” She capped the water bottle. “Time to get back to it and give those parents the answers they need.”

  “I’ll grab the lights.” Grady polished off his sports drink in a few gulps on the way to their SUV. Ainslie followed, and together they worked in silence to carry and position the large klieg lights so Kelsey and Sierra could continue working.

  Which they did, through the night. Grady and Ainslie worked as minions, doing food and drink runs, and ensuring that Sierra and Kelsey took regular breaks. Grady and Ainslie took turns napping in the SUV to keep fresh.

  When the morning sun glistened on the lake, Kelsey sat back on the apron surrounding the grave and stretched her back. “We have a complete skeleton. No bullets.”

  Sierra pointed her camera at the grave and took numerous pictures then lowered her camera and stared ahead.

  The sheriff, Grady, and Ainslie silently joined them. They took a solemn moment, looking at the poor boy who lost his life way too young. His skeleton was intact, his clothing draped over the bones.

  “Shirt matches,” the sheriff said, sounding disappointed and relieved at the same time. “Any indication of how he was killed?”

  “The hyoid bone is broken, as we suspected it would be,” Kelsey replied.

  “So strangulation, then?”

  Kelsey faced the sheriff. “I’ll have to examine all of the bones before making an official ruling. That’s especially true since Ethan reported hearing that gunshot. However, the shirt appears to be intact with no sign of a bullet hole, and the skull didn’t sustain a gunshot wound.”

  “And what about forensics?” Murphy asked. “Did you find anything that would help us confirm Wade killed Neil or anything to point to someone else?”

  Kelsey shook her head. “I’m afraid not. However, since Ethan described Neil struggling with Wade, it’s possible that Neil scratched Wade, and we’ll find DNA samples near the fingertips. I'll be extra careful to recover the soil in that area so Sierra can test it.”

  “And don’t forget,” Sierra said. “Ethan told us that Wade bit Neil, so we might have saliva on the shirt for DNA.”

  That almost perpetual scowl on Murphy’s face deepened. “What are the odds of that panning out?”

  “You honestly never know,” Sierra said. “Not until you try to quantify the sample.”

  “We need to convict him.” Murphy slammed a fist against his palm.

  “Right. It’s an election year,” Grady said, dousing the words with liberal sarcasm. “Not to mention that Wade’s been running free for a long time, and we don’t want him to get away with murder.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s a given.” Murphy shifted to look at Kelsey. “What about the femur fracture? Can you confirm a match to that now?”

  Kelsey shook her head. “I need to inventory the bones, then give them a preliminary review as I remove them from the grave, and prepare them for shipment. After that I’ll take the femur to the morgue for X-ray and compare it to Neil’s old records, if you’ve recovered them.”

  “I’ll get the X-ray, but the morgue is located in our county seat.” Murphy heaved a sigh. “That’s over an hour away.”

  “I’m not ready to say this is Neil Orr. Not without a comparison of his femur X-ray.”

  The sheriff frowned. “But you got the shirt. The location. The broken bone. Femur. How can you not say it’s Neil?”

  Kelsey took a defensive stance. “I have professional standards that I need to abide by just like you do. As much as I hate delaying the parents’ notification, it’s not conclusive enough to declare this person’s identity. It’ll just have to take longer to get back to the parents.”

  The sheriff gritted his teeth and looked around as if seeking an answer to his problem. “Can you use any X-ray machine?”

  Kelsey nodded. “Sure, but most medical facilities don’t allow such a thing, and it would take longer to get permission than making the trip to your county seat.”

  “What about a vet’s office?” he asked.

  Kelsey nodded. “That would work.”

  “My wife is a vet.” Murphy planted his hands on his hips. “Her practice is just down the road a piece. Now let’s get moving on that inventory, and I’ll give her a call.”

  15

  Late in the afternoon, Ainslie took a seat in the sheriff’s conference room, her heart so heavy it felt like an anchor was dragging it down. She’d believed Ethan when he’d said Neil had been murdered, and seeing the bones Kelsey unearthed was very real, but it wasn’t until Kelsey’s look of determination when she’d confirmed that the X-rays matched Neil Orr’s that the horror of it all sank in. It was true. Neil Orr had been murdered, and Ethan had known for years. Ainslie could hardly wrap her head around it.

  And now—oh, dear God, now—joining Neil’s parents, whose weathered and tortured faces told the story of years of not knowing about their son’s whereabouts, made it even sadder. They’d changed so dramatically since Ainslie had last seen them, and she wished she could do something—anything—to offer comfort. But after her brother’s role in their suffering, she was the last person they would accept comfort from.

  Grady sat next to her, and his knee pressed against hers. Maybe the touch was accidental, or maybe he was telling her that he was there for her, like he’d been since she’d met him. He’d even suggested she skip this meeting and not put herself through the stress. Not like she had a choice. She could never live with herself if she bolted from town and didn’t face Neil’s parents, offer an apology, and let them vent any anger that they might have for Ethan on her. They deserved that and so much more.

  Matt propped his shoulder against the wall and introduced everyone. Sierra wasn’t there, as she’d stayed behind to finish packing up the supplies and remain with Neil’s bones to maintain the chain of custody.

  “Go ahead, Dr. Dunbar,” Matt said, surprising Ainslie at the use of Kelsey’s title, especially considering that he’d given her nothing but a hard time at the crime scene. And Ainslie was still getting used to Kelsey’s married last name.

  Kelsey was seated next to Grady, and she explained her findings in a concise yet warm tone. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  Mrs. Orr eyed Kelsey and ran a hand over thinning hair, gray at the root and mousy brown at the stick-straight edges brushing her shoulders. “You’re one hundred percent positive this is my boy?”

  “The only way we can make a one hundred percent positive identification is through DNA,” Kelsey explained gently. “And that will take at least twenty-four hours to process.”

  She eyed Kelsey. “But you’re sure enough to sit across the table from me and tell me it’s Neil?”

  “I’ve compared the broken femur X-rays from his doctor to X-rays of the recovered femur,” Kelsey said. “It’s a perfect match. Plus, he’s wearing the clothing you described. So, yes, I am certain enough to tell you that we have recovered your son’s remains.”

  Mrs. Orr crossed her arms over a frail and thin body. “I’ve been expecting this for years, but I never knew it would hurt like the dickens.”

  Kelsey pressed her hand on the woman’s wrinkled hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Orr.”

  She jerked her hand free and looked at her husband. “I can’t believe it’s real.�


  He sat slumped in his chair. Just the opposite of her, he was plump and round with a large nose and glossy smooth skin.

  “We finally know,” she said, tears streaking her cheeks and bringing a trail of black mascara with them. “We finally know where our boy is.”

  Ainslie remembered Neil got his timid personality from his father, and today the man nodded but didn’t speak.

  Mrs. Orr swiped a streak of mascara across her face and swung her focus to Kelsey. “What happens next?”

  “I’ll take Neil’s remains back to the Veritas Center in Oregon to review all the bones and work with the medical examiner to determine his cause of death.”

  Mrs. Orr shot up in her seat, and her bony shoulders created peaks in her worn black T-shirt. “Oregon? Can’t you do that here?”

  “I’m sorry,” Kelsey said softly. “I don’t have the tools I need here.”

  Mrs. Orr sighed. “How long will that take?”

  “I’ll work as fast as I can, but it will take a couple of days at a minimum.”

  Mrs. Orr planted her palms on the table and leaned toward Kelsey, her irritated glare deepening. “And then I can bury my boy the right way?”

  Kelsey was taking the brunt of this woman’s frustration, and, bless her heart, she remained calm and in control and simply took the woman’s wrath with the patience and kindness she was known for. “The medical examiner will have to sign off and release his remains, but yes, then we can return them to you, and you can arrange for proper burial.”

  Mrs. Orr gave a firm nod and fell back in her chair. “Do you have a guess as to how he died?”

  “I’d rather not speculate.”

  Ainslie wished Kelsey could mention the broken hyoid bone so the woman had even more closure, but Ainslie understood that Kelsey needed to keep that information to herself at this point.

  Mrs. Orr looked up at Matt. “What about finding his killer, Sheriff? What are you gonna do about that?”

  Matt came to his feet and rested his hands on his waist. “The Veritas Center staff will be processing forensics leads found with Neil. When those results are back, we’ll compare them to a known suspect and hopefully close this investigation.”

 

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