Bones Of Contention: The McKinnon Legends - The American Men Book 3

by James, Ranay

  Josh watched as she carefully folded the protective cloth back over the fragile remains resting on the tray.

  “She looks really old, Egyptian, no doubt,” he asked as he leaned over the table to have a closer look careful not to touch the remains. This was her investigation scene, and as such, he knew better than to contaminate it unnecessarily.

  “Old is relative, Sheriff. There are days I feel older than her. Nevertheless, yes, she is old. These remains are from the eighteenth Egyptian Dynasty dating between 1570 BC and 1070 BC. I cannot be too careful with her.”

  “Is she property of the college?” he asked helping her to transfer the tray onto the transport dolly and locking the tray securely into place.

  “Oh, no. She is on loan from the National Museum in Cairo,” she corrected his misassumption, surprised he would even ask such an absurd question. “It is now common practice to return any and all known mummies to their rightful place.”

  “Are you an Egyptologist as well?” he asked while following her down the corridor to the vault room where such antiquities were housed for safekeeping.

  She shook her head. “No. They want me to try to divine if the mummified remains are that of Queen Ankhesenpaatem,” she said fully expecting him to just grunt some incoherent answer.

  “King Tut’s wife and sister? What would be the chances of that do you suppose?” Josh looked back at the remains wondering who this person could actually be and how she lived and died.

  “I’m impressed,” she smiled. He knew his mummies, she thought. So, she mused silently, he is cute and smart, too. That was a very rare combination in her vast years of experience.

  Joshed watched her closely. “So, what are you thinking? Is it your girl?”

  He was genuinely interested. She could see that very plainly. Not many men cared for her work. Most found it creepy and disconcerting. He did not seem one bit phased, yet looks could be deceiving. She was not ready to let her guard down. Not just yet. She had learned over the years of living in her father’s homeland to keep her guard up as long as possible. Less issues and less chance of a surprise attack that way.

  Jamie shrugged her shoulder. She was not going to commit. It could be the queen, she supposed. The placement of her left arm crossing over her chest was correct. The linen wrapping was of fine quality and the mummification was perfect. No commoner would ever be placed in state like this woman rested in what the ancients hoped was time without end. However, it was all circumstantial evidence. There was nothing concrete to say for sure she was or was not the queen of the Boy King. She was a royal, but it was a long shot this woman was the queen of Tutankhamen.

  Josh studied the tray containing the mummy of some unknown ancient royal. He had studied enough to recognize the arm placement as one of royalty. Kings had both arms crossed over the chest. For a queen laid in state only the left arm was crossed. The right arm would be placed by her side just as this woman’s was, resting for eternity.

  He quickly realized the value of a positive identification.

  “Wow, it would be a boon for the Supreme Counsel of Antiquities in Egypt to find the lost queen and place her on display beside arguably the most famous pharaoh of Egypt, maybe the most famous ruler ever, and that was some pretty tall company to find one’s self. Alexander the Great, Julius Cesar..”

  “Attila the Hun just to name a few,” she tossed in her thoughts as well and could not have agreed more. “Oh, it would most definitely be a boon for them, both from a financial and historical point of view,” she quickly agreed.

  Jamie knew with certainty it was why they were pushing her. Sure, history is very important to the Counsel of Antiquities and she would never assume the motive was anything other than archeologically driven. However, if the mummy did turn out to be her girl, the Benjamins she would produce in exhibit and museum entry fees wouldn’t hurt either. Tourist season was just around the corner.

  “So the quicker the better?” Josh surmised correctly.

  “Hard fact I’m afraid,” she said nodding in agreement.

  Josh watched her closely. Reading people was a gift for him, yet he was unable to read her, at least not beyond what any person schooled in body language would be able to read. That in itself intrigued him. It was almost like she was housed behind clear glass. He could see her, but not touch her making him wonder what secrets she was hiding behind.

  “Do I sense doubt in the good doctor?” He did not need talent to see that much clearly. The doctor was just not convinced beyond reasonable doubt, much less certainty.

  “Rightfully so,” she nodded in agreement. “She is a queen. That evidence is irrefutable making her a wonderful and rare find regardless.”

  “Nevertheless, all the pieces don’t fit. Am I right?”

  Josh was enjoying his conversation with the doctor. History had always fascinated him. It must be interesting for her as well. She was making a decent living critiquing old skeletons and other archeological finds.

  “Personally, I say it is less than a one percent probability she is Tut’s queen.”

  However, she would do a thorough analysis before she released her official findings.

  “I think we will find the DNA conclusions will back me up when I say ‘No’ officially.”

  “You sound pretty sure about that one,” he said as he held the door open. They were now in the secured lab. Rolling the mummy through these steel doors and securing the door behind him, he wondered if she might give him a tour some time.

  “I am sure, but only if I can obtain usable DNA.”

  “The royal couple had two stillborn daughters.” Josh felt certain she had to know that fact.

  “Yes, they did, Sheriff. Not exactly a widely known fact, and I’m surprised you know this detail of the boy king.” Jamie was impressed and told him so.

  “The Discovery Channel is in between ESPN and SpikeTV on my satellite network,” he joked dryly.

  Jamie smiled at his dry wit. This was a man with more than just brawn backing him up even if he would not come right out and admit as much.

  She decided to play along. “I suppose in between commercials you heard that the records show those two little girls’ mummified remains were found in Tut’s tomb and have already had DNA profiles performed?”

  And mitochondrial DNA passes through the mother, he thought, understanding where her research was taking her.

  “So,” he asked very much intrigued, “can I safely assume having the little girls' DNA should give you the evidence you need to say yes or no to the identity of this woman?”

  That was about the sum of it, she admitted readily.

  “Dr. Gillman, we are talking well over three thousand years here. How can DNA possibly survive especially with mummification? I would have thought that even if time itself had not rendered the DNA useless, the mummification process would have eroded any usable cells.” Josh played the devil’s advocate. “Not to mention that if the tomb had been flooded and remained so for an extended period of time, then sometimes DNA doesn’t survive, and the older the body the less perfected the mummification technique will be, which would result in greater degeneration of the biological materials,” Josh finished.

  She understood his stance, not taking offense to his logical questions. She was a scientist. It made perfect sense to her why he would ask such a question.

  “You would be surprised how much can survive, and all a genetic scientist needs is a bare sliver with the advances in technique and the more sophisticated tools now available.”

  “Then why do they need you if there is solid science to back it up?”

  Josh wondered why not just bore one of the thick bones such as the hip or femur, get the sample and leave her completely out of the loop? He was sure it would be more widely accepted as fact over a forensic anthropologist who just has the external structure of the body to inspect.

  She knew he was not being critical of her techniques. His conclusions were logical. She could respect his cynicism, a
t least from a scientific perspective.

  “Often the DNA tests take months.”

  “Well, the Discovery Channel solves the mystery in fifty-five minutes or less,” Josh joked risking her displeasure.

  “Don’t believe everything you see on T.V., Lawman.” She gave him a sideways glance to cover her smile.

  Josh moved closer to her to allow a student to pass. He was standing closer than he wanted yet somehow not close enough. There was something about this quirky doctor he was really drawn to, defying any and all logic. He usually shied away from blondes. And given his own family tree and the often strange genetics which came along with that family tree, as a general and stead-fast rule, he steered far away from anyone with any supernatural abilities or blonde hair. Dr. Gillman was in possession of both.

  “So," he paused studying her expression, “given the Discovery Channel is misleading me with its less than an hour answers, can I assume this is where the good doctor comes into the picture? You are the ace up the sleeve by possibly getting the information they need months in advance of the DNA finding? Hedging the bet -- so to speak?”

  “Right. I’m the ace up the sleeve as you put it. And besides, look at it this way. If this is not the queen then we can rule her out. Simply because it is not the person we were going after does not necessarily mean I am not able to identify her. I’ve been successful on several occasions where DNA was later used to back up my findings.”

  He thought she sounded just a little defensive. It was not his intention to have her erect further barriers between them, at least not until he got what he came here for. After that, he could care less if she built a new Wall of China between them.

  “A multiple-source approach makes sense from a scientific point of view,” he reasoned letting her know he understood.

  His comment surprised her. He actually sounded like he was a man of science.

  Or a great bull shit artist, she added mentally.

  They all wanted something when they came to her. She had seen it all over the years, everything you could imagine. However, if this was an act, it was a new and fresher approach to getting her to agree to a job.

  Just because he’s cute doesn’t mean he is cuddly and harmless, she cautioned herself, eyeing him with suspicion.

  He did not miss that look either.

  She took the tray, sliding it back into the selected slot, closed the reinforced door, and locked the cargo inside its special airtight compartment. Signing the entry log and placing the special sealing tape over her signature and around the vault, Jamie was now ready to turn her full attention to the handsome lawman who had driven miles just to see her.

  Well, not her exactly, she corrected herself.

  “All right, Sheriff McKinnon, I’m all yours,” she smiled.

  Josh’s logical mind knew what she was saying, but his body took it quite literally. Lowering the box he was carrying, the inconvenient evidence was covered.

  He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with where his thoughts were traveling at supersonic speed. “I have it by way of a reliable source you have certain abilities.”

  He was purposefully vague not wishing to harm her professionally. He did not know how wide her reputation was spread, or if she even wanted her abilities out in the open.

  “If what you are referring to is my ability in the area of identifying skeletal remains, Sheriff, then yes.” She gave him a sidelong smile. “May I call you Josh?”

  He knew she was flirting. It caught him off guard.

  “Please, feel free to call me whatever makes you comfortable,” he said holding the door to her office open for her.

  And how lame was that, he wondered? Man, are you rusty, he thought.

  She tossed him a full-blown smile and it rocked him on his heels. Too bad she was blonde.

  Chapter 3

  “Please, have a seat,” she offered pointing to one of the well-worn chairs in her office. Josh was quick to note her space was large for a college office, and neat was not something he would have expected.

  It was crammed with row after row of bookcases, taking up every usable inch of floor space, each jamed packed with reference materials. The exceptions were the sofa along the back wall, her desk, and a walk path to the chairs. It reminded him of a miniature library.

  “Welcome to the Gillman Library,” she said as if she had read his thoughts. “Oh, Josh, don’t look so surprised. It is what everyone thinks when they walk in here.” She giggled at his expression. “And you can relax, Lawman. I read bones not minds. Whatever you may have twirling around up there is perfectly safe,” she gestured with her hand, spinning her finger as if using it to stir a cup of coffee. “At least safe from me, I cannot vouch for anyone else.”

  Feeling more than a little self conscious, he placed the box on the edge of her desk and took the offered seat. She did not sit at her desk as he expected, but instead, after hanging up her lab coat, she sat in the chair next to him. Now that the coat was gone, he took the opportunity to note she was quite petite. He preferred his women tall. Always had, but she was still alluring with a great pair of legs even if they weren’t long. There was a mystery and intelligence wrapping around her which he found very remarkable. He could see the cleverness in her eyes. They were bright, inquisitive, and sharp with intelligence. Not to mention glimpses of mischief he caught now and then.

  He let her take the lead in this conversation. She knew some of why he was here although he had not been specific. So sitting silently for a moment, he studied her looking for subtle signs of retreat, defiance, or advancement.

  Jamie could plainly see he was skeptical.

  They always were when they came to see her. She was usually the last option, chapping their macho, manly asses to have to resort to her services in the first place. They were seldom ever grateful after her help, often saying an anonymous source helped or even going so far as taking full credit. It wasn’t that she wanted the fame. Actually, it was quite the opposite. She actually preferred staying out of the mainstream media, but it would have been nice for someone other than the graduate students, to whom she was known affectionately as Doctor Bones, to see she was not a fraud. Just last year her graduate staff bought her personalized license plates that read aptly: DOC BONZ.

  She sighed. Having her students believe was enough. It had to be.

  Obviously, she thought, he was not going to start and she did not have all day, so she just cut to the chase.

  “I have developed thick skin over the years working with guys like you, Sheriff McKinnon.” She sat up straight as if ready for a fight.

  “Guys like me?” he questioned.

  He remained calm. However, it flew all over him that she automatically labeled him. Sure, there were lots of law enforcement types who would never dream of making the appointment in the first place, much less following through. However, he was not your typical type of officer, never had been and she had no way of knowing that either.

  “Josh, look,” she sighed, “most law enforcement agencies pooh-pooh some of my methods. Actually, all my methods, come to think of it, which do not come straight out of a textbook.”

  She knew her methods could be quite unorthodox, falling well outside the realm of the easily explainable. As a legitimate scientist, sometimes it was difficult even for her to accept.

  How could she ever explain that the bones whisper to her? It was crazy, certifiably crazy, but a gift she had lived with for many years. At the age of seventeen she tripped, fell over a gravestone, hit her head, and was knocked unconscious.

  The irony was not lost to her.

  She had had the gift ever since.

  “Let me ask you a couple of questions, Jamie. Do your methods work, and do you get verifiable results?” Josh asked cocking his head to the side.

  She studied him.

  She found him very attractive. That came as a complete and total surprise. Yet, what woman wouldn’t? He was sweet, sweet eye candy, probably one of the most handsome men she
had ever seen. It might sound like a cliché, but working on a college campus she had seen her fair share of fine male specimens. However, he broke several rules that she religiously lived by in regard to the men in her life regardless of how much eye candy he might be.

  Rule#1: Never get involved with a married man.

  That just made you the “other woman.” Besides, it was wrong, and she never wanted to be the reason a bonded relationship crashed and burned. There were plenty of other reasons for a relationship to fail, so she never wanted to add to the list.

  She glanced at his left hand wondering why it had taken her this long.

  Damn it, sighing mentally, he is wearing a ring. Of course, she thought, all the cute ones are taken.

  However, the ring did not look exactly like a wedding band, not in the traditional sense. She was not going to second guess it. Better to be safe.

  Rule #2: Never get involved with a man with kids.

  If he was not married and therefore not falling under Rule #1, then the kid scenario usually had an ex-wife attached which only got you entangled in child support to pay. In her book that just made the ex the “other woman” in his life. No good either, she surmised.

  Damn, she thought again. A man this age probably had children. Rule #2 violation, warning lights flashing yellow, she thought.

  Rule #3: Never get involved with a military man or a policeman.

  Statistics showed most marriages to military and law enforcement spouses ended in the divorced column before the five year anniversary celebration rolled around.

  Rule #3 was not in question.

  She supposed it was good she had this reality check. He was bad news. However, as long as she kept it professional, it really would not matter either direction -- married or not, kids or not. He was here for help. She was not sure she could give that help, and if she said no to his request it had nothing to do with his family status.

  He asked her again if her methods work.

  Strange question, she thought, considering he was here in her office. It seemed to her if he had doubts he would not waste time. He did not come across as a man who would spin his wheels personally or professionally.