Buried Bones (Widow's Island Novella)

by Melinda Leigh

  A forensic entomologist could study the life cycle of insects feeding on the body to further tighten the PMI.

  Henry stood. “Let’s get to it. Let’s get the body bagged.” He fetched the black body bag and spread it on the ground next to the victim. “We need to distribute the weight as evenly as possible to keep what’s left of her intact.”

  They shifted the body. Tessa caught a flash of tarnished metal around the corpse’s wrist. “Wait!”

  Henry bent closer. “It’s a medical-alert bracelet.” He brushed dirt from its surface with a gloved finger. “Aurora Franklin. She had a nut allergy.”

  They went silent for a moment. Those two tiny bits of information made their remains human in a way that wasn’t merely biological. Aurora Franklin had been as real as Tessa. She’d had hopes and fears, triumphs and regrets. She’d lived and loved.

  And she’d been reduced to an empty shell of decomposing organic matter.

  A raptor’s piercing cry broke the quiet. Tessa glanced up to see a hawk soar across the crystal-blue sky. Her gaze immediately dropped to the body.

  Henry cleared his throat. “Her emergency contact is Tony Franklin. There’s a phone number.”

  Tessa used her cell phone to snap a picture of the bracelet.

  Dread gathered in the pit of her stomach. Tessa stared at the corpse. How did you get here, Aurora? Beyond her initial horrifying appearance, the victim looked small and alone, with no personal items anywhere near her.

  As if she had been dumped there.

  Though it was up to the ME to determine the manner of death, Tessa knew in her own bones that this was a homicide.

  2

  Logan perched on the corner of Tessa’s desk in the tiny satellite sheriff’s station and squinted at the bright afternoon sun pouring through the blinds. The funeral home’s hearse had transported the body to the medical examiner on the mainland. Tessa had called in Deputy Bruce Taylor to help. Tessa, Logan, and Bruce had spent hours processing the scene on Crone Mountain. They hadn’t recovered much evidence, but they’d made every effort.

  Tessa typed on her computer. Her uniform was dusty and rumpled from scouring the woods. A few blonde hairs had sprung free of her bun and waved around her face. But Logan was happy to note that the dark circles under her eyes had faded since he’d moved in with her and made sure she got a full night’s sleep at least a few nights a week.

  She offered him a protein bar.

  He took it reluctantly. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Me either, but we need to eat,” she said. “We missed lunch.”

  Logan could still smell the corpse and had to force down the food. It tasted like cardboard.

  “Aurora Franklin was twenty years old.” Tessa scrolled on her computer. She read off an address.

  Logan plugged it into the map app on his cell phone. “That’s on the mainland. It’ll take us a couple of hours to get there.”

  “Her emergency contact, Tony Franklin, lives at the same address. Tony is fifty-one.”

  “Probably her father.” Logan’s chest ached at the thought of notifying the poor man of his daughter’s death. “Why did she come to Widow’s? Did she come alone or with someone else?”

  “Hopefully Tony knows.” Tessa sipped from a stainless steel water bottle. “I’d rather not do a death notification over the phone. A deputy from the mainland would handle it, but I need to question Tony anyway. It’s Sunday. Maybe we’ll catch him at home.”

  “We can make the next ferry if we hurry.”

  Tessa said, “Let’s go. We’ll research on the way.”

  They used her official SUV and took the ferry to the mainland. During the crossing, they remained in her vehicle and gathered more information on Aurora Franklin. Neither Aurora nor Tony Franklin had a criminal record. Aurora had attended a state college. An old Ford Escape was registered to her. Tony worked at an accounting firm and drove a Honda.

  “See if you can find her social media accounts,” Tessa said.

  The task took just a few minutes. Aurora had been a pretty blonde with intense blue eyes. Scrolling through her photos gave Logan a pang of grief. She’d enjoyed swimming, yoga, and Broadway musicals. Even though he’d seen her remains, he had a hard time accepting that the lively young woman was gone. He swallowed. “Most of her posts are photos. No personal drama in her feeds.”

  “Maybe she didn’t have many close friends.”

  He scanned her posts. “The last post I see is a selfie of her getting off the ferry on Widow’s on May twentieth, but she didn’t ever post daily. Typical timing of her posts was varied. Never more than a couple a week. Sometimes she went two or three weeks without a post.”

  “But she was most likely alive on May twentieth, about seven weeks ago.”

  “Yes.” Logan closed her social media accounts as the ferry docked, and Tessa drove off the boat.

  At just past four o’clock, she turned onto a suburban street of small one-story homes. Kids played on front lawns and rode bikes on the sidewalk. Adults worked on yards or stood in groups, watching their kids and talking.

  Logan read the addresses on the mailboxes. “That’s it. The white one.”

  Tessa pulled her SUV to the curb and shifted into park. A Honda Accord sat in the driveway.

  Logan took a deep breath. He’d helped Tessa with a few cases. One thing he’d learned was that death notifications were one of her hardest duties.

  They got out of the vehicle and walked to the door. Tessa knocked. A stout middle-aged man opened the door. He wore jeans and a gray T-shirt. He took in Tessa’s uniform and tilted his head. “Can I help you?”

  Tessa introduced herself and Logan. “Are you Tony Franklin?”

  He nodded, but his expression went wary.

  “May we come inside?” she asked.

  He stepped back and gestured for them to enter. They stepped into a small foyer, with the kitchen at the end of a short hallway. The house smelled of disinfectant, and Logan could see a sliver of gleaming countertop. Tony led them into a living room. A basket of folded laundry sat on the coffee table, but otherwise nothing was out of place. There were no knickknacks, and photographs were limited to Aurora’s school photos, framed and hung in a neat row on the wall, grade school through high school graduation on full display. The one thing that hadn’t changed over the years was Aurora’s smile.

  Tony gestured toward a worn gray sofa. The news played on a flat-screen TV. He reached for a remote and turned it off. He took a chair opposite, his mouth flattening into a grim line. “You’re here to give me bad news. The police don’t come in person unless the news is bad.” It wasn’t a question.

  Tessa eased onto the sofa. Logan sat next to her.

  “I’m afraid so,” Tessa began. “Aurora Franklin is your daughter?”

  Tony leaned forward. Fear shone in his eyes. “Yes.”

  Tessa didn’t waste words. “The medical examiner has not issued an official identification, but a medical-alert bracelet with your daughter’s name and your phone number was found with human remains on Widow’s Island.”

  “No.” Tony stared, openmouthed. “Aurora is working at some tourist trap. She’s fine.”

  “Can you describe her bracelet?” Tessa asked in a gentle voice.

  “Yeah. It’s silver. She’s scary allergic to nuts.” Tony fell backward, blinking as if unable to comprehend the news. Shock wiped his features into a blank page. “I can’t believe it.”

  “When did you see her last?” Tessa asked.

  “Spring break.” Tony’s eyes searched Tessa’s. “How did . . . it happen?”

  “We don’t know yet. We’re investigating.” Tessa didn’t give him the gory details.

  “Are you sure?” Tony asked. “It doesn’t feel possible.”

  “Do you know if Aurora had current dental or medical records we could access?” Tessa asked. “Then the medical examiner can make an official identification.”

  Tony scrubbed a hand over his face. �
�I’ll get you our dentist’s name. She had a couple of cavities filled last summer.”

  “Aurora went to college?” Logan asked. “Did she come home at the end of the semester?”

  “No, she didn’t.” Tony shook his head. “I called her in early May, and she told me she got a job on Widow’s Island for the summer and was going straight there.”

  “Did she give you her address or say where she’d be working?” Logan asked.

  Tony’s sigh was heavy with regret. “No. She was still mad at me. We didn’t talk long. She said she needed some space.”

  Tessa took out her notepad. “Do you remember the date you last spoke with her?”

  “It’ll be in my call log.” Tony picked up a phone from the end table. “May fourth.” While he had the phone out, he read off the dentist’s name and number in a flat voice that made Logan’s chest ache.

  Tessa made a note. “What did you and Aurora fight about?”

  Tony looked away. “She’d just declared her major: acting.” He pressed his lips together. “Every nickel in my savings is earmarked for her school. I want her to get an education, but I’d also like her to be able to pay her bills. I wanted her to double major or even minor in something more practical, but she refused. She says being an actor is her dream. I said fine, but you don’t want to starve while you’re pursuing it.” His next breath trembled. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

  “We’re sorry for your loss.” Logan noted Tony’s continued use of the present tense. How did a father accept his daughter’s death?

  Tony shuddered and inhaled sharply, trying unsuccessfully to pull himself together. “Her mom died when she was thirteen. She’s been mad at the world since.” Another shaky breath escaped him. “I let a lot of things slide, but it felt like I should put my foot down this time. I didn’t tell her she couldn’t be an actor, just that she needed a backup. Maybe I should have supported her dream unconditionally, but I thought I was helping her in the long run. I’m her father, not her friend. But now, she’s gone. Our last words were angry, and there’s no chance to change that.” Regret hunched his shoulders.

  “Does she have any friends who might have been in more recent contact with her?” Tessa asked in a gentle voice.

  “I don’t know. Her best friend is Sky Eastbrooke. I don’t have her phone number, but her parents live on the next block. Thirty-Two Warren Avenue. She might be home for the summer.”

  “Did Aurora have a boyfriend?” Logan asked.

  “She didn’t mention one to me.” Tony set down his phone. His hands closed into fists on his knees, and he looked as if he was going to break down.

  Logan met Tessa’s eyes. They silently agreed that Tony had had enough.

  Tessa stood. “I’ll let you know when I hear from the medical examiner. Is there anyone we can call for you?”

  Tony gave one curt shake of his head. He looked immobile, as if a single movement would break him. The skin of his face looked as hard as stone, and he didn’t show them out. Logan wondered what would happen after they left.

  Tessa left her business card. Logan followed her outside and down the driveway. They got into the vehicle.

  Tessa started the engine. “Since we’re out here, we might as well see if Sky is home.”

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “That would be nice.” Tessa drove to the next block. This street was just as busy as the previous one. The neighborhood had been designed cookie cutter–style. The Eastbrookes’ house was just like Mr. Franklin’s but in blue. The driveway held a minivan. A pickup truck was parked at the curb. Tessa parked behind the truck, and they climbed out of their vehicle. At the front door, Logan stood aside as Tessa knocked. The sound of footfalls approached inside. A curtain in a window shifted. A boy of about twelve peered at them.

  “Mom!” he shouted over his shoulder. “There are two cops at the door!”

  He turned away, and the curtain fell back into place. Heavier footsteps sounded. The curtain moved again. A woman’s face appeared for a few seconds. Had she not believed the boy?

  Over the sounds of commotion in the house, Logan heard the unmistakable slide of a window being opened. He and Tessa exchanged a glance.

  “I’ll check it out.” He backed away from the door just as the dead bolt snicked.

  He heard the door open, and a woman’s voice said, “Can I help you?”

  But Logan was rounding the corner of the house. A young woman was climbing out of a side window. She had one leg over the sill when she spotted him and muttered a curse.

  He smiled but said nothing. One thing he’d learned from Tessa was that people didn’t like silence, and they often filled it.

  “He deserved it,” the girl stammered, resentment narrowing her eyes. “It’s just a stupid car.”

  Logan raised an eyebrow.

  The girl snapped her mouth closed. She slid the rest of the way out of the window and faced him. She was somewhere around twenty years old. Denim shorts and a tank top showcased her slim body to its best advantage. She scanned his uniform, popped a hip, and crossed her arms. “You’re not a cop.”

  “I am not.” Logan tapped the forest ranger badge on his sleeve.

  “You’re not here to arrest me.”

  “Did you kill anyone?”

  “No,” the girl answered abruptly, seemingly shocked by the question. Logan wondered what she’d done that would make her automatically bolt from cops on the doorstep.

  “Then I’m not here to arrest you.” Most people didn’t know that park rangers were law enforcement officers and could make arrests. “Do you want to tell me why you were running?”

  “No.”

  “Okay,” Logan said. “Is your name Sky Eastbrooke?”

  The girl nodded.

  “There’s a deputy from Widow’s Island at your front door. She would like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Is she here to arrest me?” Sky leveled him a wary look, as if he was trying to trick her.

  “I don’t think so.” Logan gestured for her to come with him.

  She fell into step beside him. They rounded the corner of the house and approached the front door. Tessa stood on the step, talking to a tall thin woman in her forties.

  Tessa gave Logan a look. “This is Mrs. Eastbrooke. She was just saying she didn’t know where Sky was.”

  “Where did you go?” Mrs. Eastbrooke asked her daughter.

  The girl just shrugged. Her mother’s head tilted with suspicion, but she didn’t ask any questions.

  “Sky, this is Deputy Black,” Logan said.

  Tessa faced the young woman. “I’d like to ask you some questions about Aurora Franklin.”

  Sky’s body jerked. “Aurora?” Her gaze darted back and forth between Tessa and Logan. “What is this about?”

  Tessa glanced up and down the busy street. “Is there somewhere we could talk?”

  Mrs. Eastbrooke motioned toward the house. “Come inside. I just made a fresh pot of coffee.”

  Backpacks and shoes were piled by the front door. They went into a small cluttered kitchen that smelled of roasting meat and coffee. A pie cooled on the counter, and a wide window looked over a grassy rear yard. Crayon drawings and school papers covered the refrigerator. Tessa, Logan, and Sky took seats around the table. Sky bit off a cuticle.

  “Mrs. Eastbrooke, how many kids do you have?” Logan asked to give the girl a few seconds to settle in.

  “Four. Sky is the oldest. Nash is twelve. My husband took the twins—they’re seven—to the zoo today. I love them, but every now and then, it’s really nice to have a quiet afternoon.” Mrs. Eastbrooke poured four cups of coffee and handed them out before sinking into the remaining chair. “Now, you’ll tell us what this is all about before my daughter answers any questions.”

  Sky straightened suddenly and stared at Logan’s forest ranger patch. “Wait. You’re from Widow’s Island. Did something happen to Aurora?”

  “We found a body in the state park o
n Widow’s Island this morning,” Tessa began. “The body was wearing a medical-alert bracelet with Aurora Franklin’s name on it.”

  Sky covered her mouth with a hand. “No.”

  “You were friends?” Tessa’s voice softened.

  The girl nodded.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Tessa said.

  Tears slid down Sky’s cheeks. “She was my best friend.” Her mother reached across the table and gripped Sky’s hand.

  “When was the last time you saw Aurora?” Tessa asked.

  “Spring break.” Sky sniffed. Her mother got up, left the room, and returned a few seconds later with a box of tissues. She set it in front of her daughter.

  Sky plucked a tissue from the box. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

  “Have you talked to her since spring break?” Tessa asked.

  Sky blotted her eyes. “Mostly, we texted.”

  Tessa pulled out her notepad and pen. “When was the last time you communicated with her?”

  Sky reached around to her back pocket and withdrew a phone. She woke it and scrolled. “May tenth.” She dried her eyes again. “She started seeing some guy and stopped returning my texts. Aurora always ignored me if she had a new boyfriend.”

  “Did that make you angry?” Tessa asked.

  Sky lifted one bare shoulder. “I’m used to it. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. That’s just the way she was. We didn’t fight or anything. I knew I’d get a text from her when she was done with the new guy.”

  “Do you know his name?” Tessa tapped her pen on the notepad.

  Sky shook her head. “No. She called him Hot Bod.” The corner of her mouth tilted up in a bittersweet smile. “Aurora always gave guys nicknames according to what she liked best about them.”

  Tessa asked, “Do you know where she met him?”

  “School.” Sky ripped her crumpled tissue into thin strips.

  “How did you know Aurora was on Widow’s Island?” Logan asked.

  “The last time we talked, back in May, she said she’d gotten a summer job there.” Sky abandoned the shredded tissue and grabbed another. Tears leaked from her eyes in slow, steady drips.