“Who would have done such a thing?” she exclaimed. “And where was the officer who was supposed to be on duty?” Devon shrugged.
She frowned as Forest approached, apparently either seeing her agitated state or hearing her outraged voice. The last thing she needed right now was for the originator of her initial foul mood to interact with her. She already felt as if she was going crazy.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he drew closer. He brought with him the scents of leather and sunshine and a faint tinge of soap and fresh-scented cologne.
“My skeletons are missing and it’s all your fault,” she said angrily.
“My fault?” He raised a dark brow in apparent confusion.
“You distracted me last night with your barn dance. You...you made me not think about the bones and my work here.” In the back of her head she knew she was being completely irrational, but she was angry and confused and he was the nearest target.
She couldn’t very well yell at Devon. She had to work closely with him for who knew how long. Besides, he got the sharp end of her tongue on most days.
“And if I hadn’t distracted you last night what would be different this morning?” Forest asked in a calm, even tone.
She stared at him for a long tense minute. “Nothing,” she finally admitted. With that admission her anger shifted into a weary confusion.
If she hadn’t sat outside with him for his makeshift barn dance, she would have been in her room all night and still wouldn’t have answers as to what had happened to her skeletons.
“At least I got the reports on the first skeletal remains to Dillon already,” she said more to herself than to Forest or Devon. “Why would somebody do this? What could be their possible motivation?”
“To stop or slow down the process? Maybe to prevent you from finding something that might identify either the victims or the killer?” Forest replied. “I thought there was somebody on guard duty here during the night hours.”
“There is supposed to be,” she replied. “He comes around between six and seven at night and stays until about seven in the morning. I’m sure he was here on duty last night before I knocked off work for the night.” She glanced at her watch. It was a few minutes after eight. He’d already left for the day.
She sank down to the ground, unmindful of the dusty reddish earth beneath her butt. To her surprise, Forest sat down next to her.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she said as Devon returned to the trailer and went inside to await Dillon’s arrival.
“You were upset,” Forest replied.
“I’m still upset, but it’s not your fault. All the work we’ve accomplished since we arrived is gone. Almost a month’s worth of digging, testing, matching and re-creating skeletons from a jumble of bones is now all for nothing. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before at any site I’ve ever worked.”
She was surprised to discover a lump in the back of her throat and the burn of tears in her eyes. Surely she wasn’t about to cry. She didn’t cry. It implied weakness and crying had never been allowed.
Swallowing against the lump and mentally willing away the alien tears, she was grateful to see Dillon Bowie’s patrol car pull up next to the big ranch house and park.
Both she and Forest got to their feet as the chief of police hurried toward them. “Maybe he’ll be able to figure this out,” Forest said with a touch of optimism.
Patience wished she could steal some of that hopeful outlook from him. She was still defaulting to a rich anger that had felt safe and familiar for so long.
“I thought somebody was on guard duty during the nights. What happened to your officer last night? Did he leave for pizza or take a nap or just forget what he was here for last night?” she asked when Dillon joined them.
Dillon winced at the same time Forest lightly touched her shoulder. “He’s not your enemy, either,” Forest said softly.
Heat filled Patience’s cheeks and she drew in a deep, steadying breath. “I’m sorry,” she said, wondering how many times she would find herself apologizing for her temper before the day was over.
Didn’t either man understand how this would set them back? She hadn’t even been inside the tent to see if bones from the burial site were also missing. If they were, then the odds of solving this crime were zero. Evidentiary chain of command would have been broken, and she couldn’t analyze what was no longer present.
“Officer Kelly was on duty last night. I spoke to him right after Dr. Lewison called me. He confessed to me that he fell asleep for about an hour.”
“Fell asleep for about an hour,” Patience parroted in frustration. “Does he have any idea how important the work we’re doing here is? That this is a site filled with victims of foul play? This is a crime scene and it has to be guarded at all times. People can’t take naps when on duty.”
“He does understand all that and he’ll be appropriately reprimanded,” Dillon replied evenly. “Have you been inside?” He gestured toward the tent.
“No, when I stepped to the doorway I saw that the skeletons were missing,” she replied. “I figured it was officially a new crime scene and so I haven’t been all the way inside.”
“Where’s Dr. Lewison?” Dillon asked.
“In the trailer.” Patience walked over to the huge vehicle and knocked on the door. Devon stepped out and they rejoined Dillon and Forest.
“I’m assuming you didn’t hear anything odd or disturbing overnight?” Dillon asked Devon.
Devon shook his head. “I work hard and I sleep hard.” The short, well-built man raked a hand through his brown hair. He punched the center of his dark-rimmed glasses to settle them properly on the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t hear a thing.”
“Let’s take a look inside and see exactly what we’re dealing with,” Dillon said. “Nobody touch anything,” he cautioned them.
There was no point in wearing booties, as the floor in the tent was hard earth that didn’t retain footprints. Dillon entered first, followed by Patience, then Devon and finally Forest.
She was vaguely surprised that Forest hadn’t returned to his work in the corral once Dillon had arrived. He wasn’t needed here and couldn’t add anything to help solve the mystery. She found his continued presence both a faint irritation and a strange comfort.
She knew this scene was important to Dillon, who had to investigate the circumstances as to how these people were killed and buried. But Forest knew how important her work was to her after their little bonding session the night before. He would understand why she was so upset.
“The skeletons are gone,” Dillon stated the obvious as he stared at the two empty tables. A deep frown cut across his forehead.
Patience fought the impulse to roll her eyes. “Just as I told you,” she replied as evenly as possible. She walked over to the burial pit to see if any or all the other bones had been stolen from there.
She gasped in surprise as she saw that the bones that had been on the tables were not missing, but rather had been tossed back in with the others in the pit. She’d numbered each one and the numbered bones were there.
“They’re here,” she said. All three men moved to stand beside her and peer down. “Thank goodness part of the process is to number the bones as I put them in place. I see both number-one and number-two on the bones on top. Those are the ones that had been on the tables.”
“Are they all there?” Dillon asked. Forest stood next to him, tall and steady as a big oak tree.
“It’s hard to tell without actually pulling them out and reconstructing the skeletons,” she replied.
“So, this isn’t a theft, it’s a case of criminal mischief,” Dillon said with a trace of anger deepening his voice.
“It would appear so,” Devon muttered.
“What bothers me is that somebody had to
have been watching Officer Kelly, waiting and hoping that he might nod off so that the culprit could enter the tent,” Forest said. “It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision, but rather a planned bit of mischief or whatever.”
“And why go to all the bother of doing this?” Devon asked. “If the bones in the pit had been stolen, we would have had a real problem; as it is we’ve just been set back a bit.”
“Depending on what time Officer Kelly fell asleep, it’s doubtful there were any witnesses around. I think all of the men went to the barn dance last night and they wouldn’t have gotten back here until late,” Forest added. “Even then most of them wouldn’t have been in any condition to notice anyone lurking around in the tent.”
“I’ll round up all the men anyway and find out if anyone saw anything,” Dillon said. “How long will it take you to get back on track?” He looked at Patience.
“It will probably take us two days or so to redo what we’d already had done,” she replied. “And that’s only if all the bones are actually there.”
“I doubt if it would do any good to try to fingerprint either the table or the bones.” Dillon shoved his hands in his pockets, frustration lacing his voice. “Whoever was smart enough to wait for my officer to fall asleep, probably was also smart enough to wear gloves.”
“Besides, fingerprinting the bones isn’t a good idea, as it might degrade what’s already so fragile,” Patience replied.
Dillon motioned them outside of the tent. He looked at Devon and Patience. “You two have your work cut out for you, and I’ll be asking questions around here for most of the day.”
He didn’t wait for a reply but turned around and headed for the big house where Patience assumed he’d update the owner of the ranch, Cassie, on this latest development.
Forest gazed at her. “Are you all right?”
She straightened her back. “Of course. I’m fine. I just need to get to work.” In truth, a sense of violation filled her. It was as if somebody had rifled through her underwear drawer. Not that it would give anyone any thrills...just basic white cotton. But she didn’t want him to know how shaken up she was concerning this whole thing.
Forest tipped his black hat and then began his walk back to the corral where he’d been working when she’d first gone ballistic. She watched him go and remembered her dream, when she’d been held in his big, strong arms.
For a brief moment she wished she could call him back and meld into his arms. It was such a shocking thought, she turned to Devon. “Let’s get to work,” she said briskly and shoved all thoughts of Forest out of her head.
* * *
If Forest had hoped that the barn dance he’d orchestrated or his silent support of Patience when she’d discovered her bones had been moved would prompt some sort of forward momentum in their friendship, then he was mistaken.
For the past week she’d been as skittish as the horse he’d been working with, where he was concerned. She worked in the tent throughout the day and then surprisingly, she’d driven off with Devon at dinner time, presumably to eat at the local café.
At night he never heard her return to her room, and it was obvious she was avoiding him. Still, even as he’d worked each day with the horse in the nearby corral, she’d often stepped outside the tent and watched him. He might be crazy, but he wasn’t willing to give up on her yet.
Although he admitted that he had a healthy dose of lust where she was concerned, he also thought she just might need a friend, and if that’s all that he could have of her, he’d gladly take it.
Just as he knew the horse wanted to trust, he sensed that Patience yearned for some connection, but it could just be the imagining of a lonely cowboy.
He’d heard through the grapevine that Dillon’s investigation as to who had moved the bones had gone nowhere. Forest definitely didn’t want to believe that any of the men he’d lived and worked with for the past fifteen years or so could be responsible.
But who? And why?
Twilight was falling and he sat in a chair just outside his room. He glanced over to where the Humes ranch met Holiday land. Nobody knew what had initially caused the friction between Raymond Humes and Cass Holiday, but there was no question that there was bad blood between the two ranches and their workers.
The Holiday Ranch had suffered downed fences, small fires and damage to outbuildings, and Forest and his fellow cowboys suspected the culprits came from right next door.
Raymond Humes had hired thugs and bullies for ranch hands and many of them had worked for the man for the near sixteen years that Forest had worked on the Holiday Ranch.
Was one of them a killer?
Or had the killer been a drifter who had spent time in Bitterroot or on some other ranch years ago and was now far away from Oklahoma?
“Why are you sitting out here all alone?” Sawyer Quincy sat in the second chair that Forest had dragged out of his room in hopes of getting Patience to sit and chat with him when she got home from wherever she and Devon had gone.
“Just sitting,” Forest replied.
“Looks to me like you’re sitting and waiting.” Sawyer’s russet-colored hair looked more gold than red as the sun sank lower in the sky. “You’ve got two chairs out here so it’s obvious you’re waiting for somebody, and I suspect it’s a red-headed firecracker.”
Forest didn’t reply.
“I know you, Forest. Of all of us you’re the one most likely to want marriage and family, but you aren’t going to find it with Dr. Forbes.”
Forest laughed. “I’m not looking for anything from Patience. I just think she could use a friend around here.” Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered exactly when she’d become Patience instead of Dr. Forbes.
“She doesn’t act like she wants or needs a friend,” Sawyer replied.
“Everybody needs somebody,” Forest said. “Where would all of us have been without Cass, without each other?”
Sawyer’s eyes darkened. “I don’t even want to think about it. How do you know Dr. Forbes doesn’t already have somebody in her life? Maybe some hot, handsome scientist-type back in Oklahoma City?”
Forest was surprised by a momentary skip of his heartbeat. He leaned back in his chair and drew in a deep breath. He hadn’t thought of her already having somebody important in her life. Maybe that was why she was so determined to keep him and everyone else here at a distance.
He should have realized that a woman as educated, as accomplished and as pretty as Patience would have a man important to her in her life.
“I just don’t want to see a big man with a big heart take a hard fall,” Sawyer said. He got up from the chair. “I’ll see you around in the morning.” Sawyer walked past several rooms and then disappeared into his own.
Forest sat forward in his chair to digest what Sawyer had said. Did Patience have a significant somebody in Oklahoma City? Was that the reason she’d kept herself so isolated from everyone? Because she had some special man waiting for her back home?
If that was the case, then Forest would stop his subtle pursuit of her. He would never try to come between a couple even if they were just casually dating. It was a matter of honor...honor that had been instilled in him first by his parents and then by Cass.
While he appreciated Sawyer’s concern for him, Forest didn’t take the chairs and go back inside. Instead he continued to sit and wait, not knowing what might happen or what he might learn when she returned.
It was nearly dark when he saw headlights that indicated Devon and Patience had returned from wherever they had gone. Forest’s heart stepped up its rhythm just a bit as the car lights went out.
He’d wanted to talk to her, but now with Sawyer’s questions ringing in his ears, he wanted to talk to her more than ever. It would be difficult for her to avoid him given the fact he was seated just to the side of her ro
om door.
Of course she could always fly by him with a curt nod of her head and escape into her room without having any conversation with him, as she had done all week long.
He sat up straighter when she approached, a mere silhouette swinging a white plastic bag as she walked in the moonlight. He could tell the moment she saw him. The bag stopped swinging and her shoulders punched back in a defensive mode.
It was definitely not a happy-to-see-you kind of posture. As she drew close enough to see her features, he relaxed a bit. Her lips weren’t pressed together in displeasure, nor were her eyes narrowed in a glare.
“Want to sit for a few minutes?” he asked when she got close enough.
She stepped up to her door and hesitated a moment. “Okay,” she finally said. “Let me just put my bag inside.” She unlocked her door and tossed the bag in the direction of where Forest knew her bed was located.
“More cheese puffs and tabloids?” he asked.
“You’ve got to stop looking at my trash,” she replied as she sat in the chair next to his.
“Can’t help it. Once a week it’s my chore to empty all the trash cans everyone puts outside their doors. At least your trash is more interesting than the usual beer bottles and beef jerky wrappings. I can’t believe you read those tabloids.”
“I like them. I read about people with interesting lifestyles that have nothing in common with mine.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to just find somebody like that and talk to them? Get to know them on a personal level?” he asked.
“Not really. I don’t do emotional attachments and I don’t have to worry about that with the stories I read.”
“So, there’s no boyfriend or significant other waiting for you to return to Oklahoma City?” he asked, hoping he sounded nonchalant.
“Absolutely not. I dated a bit in college, but I came to the conclusion that I don’t really believe in love. It’s just a bunch of messy emotions that aren’t fact based. It’s something people do to procreate and not be alone as they get older and I don’t mind being alone.”
Cowboy Under Fire Page 4