“No. No one else. Thanks, Helen.” He picked up the phone. “Hardin? What’s up?”
“I’ve got a boy in my office who says he saw someone heading out toward Daniel’s house around the time we figure the hatchet and bone were planted,” Hardin said. “You want to be here while I question him? He’s about twelve and so scared he’s about to…you know.”
“I’ll be right there.”
As he hung up, Wyatt glanced at his watch. After four. Damn. He’d promised Nina he’d be at the lab by now. He called her as he headed next door to the sheriff’s office. The phone rang four times.
“Yes?” Her voice sounded irritated and preoccupied at the same time.
“Busy?” Wyatt couldn’t suppress a smile at her tone.
“Very.”
“I’m not going to make it by four o’clock.”
“That’s fine, because I’m not nearly finished.”
“I’m headed over to the sheriff’s office to talk to a kid who might have seen something at Taabe’s house.”
“Who? One of the kids who was helping Daniel in his stables?”
“No idea. Hardin didn’t give me a name. Are your students there?”
“They’re washing bones as we speak.”
“Well, make sure they stick around until I get there. I’m sure this won’t take more than an hour, hour and a half at the most.”
“Uh-huh,” she replied absently.
“Those must be some interesting bones you’re looking at.”
She laughed, and the sound of it shot straight through him right down to his groin. “You have no idea.”
“Okay, I’ll see you around five-thirty or six. Nina, stay there. Lock the doors. And make the students stay there with you.” He started to say goodbye and then thought of one more safety measure. “In fact, let me talk to Todd. I’ll tell him to stay—”
But Nina had already hung up.
As he entered the sheriff’s office, Wyatt dialed the Ranger lab. “Lizzie, what’s going on up there with that print I sent you? I thought I’d hear back from you hours ago. And the courier delivered the bone scrapings, right?”
“We got them. Sorry, Wyatt. The computer’s been down. The IT guys kept promising one more hour. That fingerprint you sent came up around two-thirty, so the prints are running now. I’ll call you as soon as I get a match. The scrapings will probably be tomorrow at the earliest. You can’t imagine how backed up we are.”
“Can you check with the captain? I need that info ASAP.”
“He already told us to make it a priority.”
“You’re the best, Liz.”
“I know,” she answered with a smile in her voice.
When he got to Hardin’s office, the sheriff waved him in. On the other side of the desk, in a straight-backed chair, with his hands clasped in his lap and his bare feet barely touching the floor, was a Native American boy of about thirteen.
His complexion was as ruddy as Taabe’s, and his hair and eyes as black. He was holding an MP3 player. The white wire led up to the earbuds in his ears.
Choosing a side chair where he had a good view of both of them, Wyatt sat. He was close enough to the kid that he could intimidate him if he leaned forward. He doubted he’d have to, though. For all his posturing with the music player, the boy looked terrified.
“Kirk, we’re ready to get started now,” Hardin said.
Kirk ducked his head and took the earbuds out. As he wrapped the wire around the player, his hands shook.
“This is Lieutenant Wyatt Colter. He’s a Texas Ranger,” said Hardin.
Wide black eyes met Wyatt’s gaze. “A Texas Ranger? Seriously?”
Wyatt nodded and allowed himself a tiny smile. “Seriously.” He flicked a prong of his badge with his index finger.
“Wow,” Kirk breathed.
“Now, Kirk, tell the lieutenant what you told me,” Hardin urged.
The boy nodded and licked his lips. “Yesterday I saw a big white pickup driving out toward Daniel’s house.”
“A big white pickup,” Wyatt repeated. He glanced at Hardin, who shook his head once. “What kind of pickup?”
Kirk licked his lips again and looked down at the MP3 player he held. “I don’t know. Big.”
“Did you see who was driving?” asked Wyatt.
“No, sir.”
“Was it Ellie Penateka?” Wyatt quizzed.
Kirk shook his head. “No, sir.”
Wyatt looked the boy in the eye. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir.”
Hardin’s chair creaked as he shifted. “Kirk, why’d you come here to tell us this?”
“Daniel asked me and Tim and Andy if we saw anything after we left yesterday.” Kirk shrugged. “I told Daniel I saw that pickup, and he said I had to come and tell you.”
“Were Tim and Andy with you when you saw it?” Hardin asked.
“No, sir. They left earlier. I stayed to help Daniel put away the tools,” replied Kirk.
Wyatt studied the boy. Could he believe him? Taabe hadn’t mentioned that one of the boys had stayed longer than the other two. Based on what Wyatt had seen—and what Nina had said—last night, Ellie might well have driven out to Taabe’s more than once yesterday.
But Taabe wouldn’t have sent Kirk to Sheriff Hardin if the driver of the white pickup had been Ellie.
“Deputy Tolbert drives a white pickup. Was it his?” Wyatt asked, watching Hardin’s reaction. The sheriff’s jaw flexed.
Kirk shrugged.
“Sheriff, who else drives a big white pickup?” asked Wyatt. He was certain that Kirk knew who the driver was. A glance at the sheriff assured him that he thought the same thing.
“White pickups are pretty common around here. Let’s see. Charla Whitley drives one. Reverend Lewis, but his is about twenty years old. And I’m pretty sure one of Jonah Becker’s trucks is white.” Hardin propped his elbows on his desk. “Kirk, I gotta say it’s kind of hard to believe that you saw it but you can’t say whose it was.”
“The sun was in my eyes, and I didn’t think nothing of it. Miss Ellie drives out there all the time,” Kirk replied.
“You said it wasn’t Ellie,” Wyatt reminded him.
“It wasn’t,” Kirk mumbled.
“How come you’re so sure?” Hardin asked. “Didn’t you say the sun was in your eyes?”
Kirk frowned and shrugged. “I just know.”
“You like Ellie, don’t you? Because she’s Daniel’s friend?”
Kirk nodded. “I guess so. I mean, I like her and all, but it still wasn’t her truck.”
Hardin stood. “Okay, Kirk, you did the right thing, coming to us. Now I want you to sit in there.” He pointed toward a small conference room.
“Are you arresting me?” Kirk gasped.
“No. But I need you to think about that pickup, and why you’re so sure it wasn’t Ellie,” said Hardin.
Kirk shrugged. “I told you, I don’t know. It just didn’t look like her truck.”
Hardin sighed. “What did Daniel say when you told him about the truck?”
Kirk ducked his head.
“Did he tell you to say it wasn’t Ellie?”
“No, sir. He told me to tell the truth.”
“Okay, son. Why don’t you draw me a picture of the pickup. I’ll let you work on it a few minutes.” Hardin gave Kirk a few sheets of paper and a pencil, then let the boy into the conference room and closed the door behind him.
When Hardin came back into his office, Wyatt asked him, “Do you think Taabe told the boy to lie?”
Hardin shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about that. I don’t think so. He wouldn’t trust a lie like that to a twelve-year-old. I’m guessing we can eliminate Ellie from the list. As well as the preacher. My guess is Trace Becker. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. Of course, Charla’s a good candidate, too.”
“But not Tolbert? You know he told Marcie that if he ever caught her with another man, he’d kill them both.”<
br />
“Right. So, you going to arrest every guy who’s ever said that to his ex-girlfriend?”
“Nope. Just the ones who actually do it.” Wyatt sighed. “I guess we’ve got to search all the white pickups. See if we can pull any mud or other trace evidence that might tell us who planted the hatchet and bone in Daniel’s truck.”
“And check their alibis,” Hardin added. “But right now I’m hungry. I didn’t get lunch, and I’ve got to take a shift out at the site tonight. Kirby and Shane are beat.”
“You know, Taabe offered some of his men to help guard the site. I didn’t take him up on it, although I was tempted. But what I can do is call on Sentron. They’re a security agency we use sometimes. They can send a couple of temporary security guards to help. We’ve got the resources. They could take one shift.”
Wyatt heard a tentative knock.
It was Kirk, holding a sheet of paper. “Uh, Sheriff? I know why it couldn’t have been Miss Ellie’s truck,” he said.
Hardin took the drawing. “Why’s that?” he asked.
“’Cause the truck had mud all over the underside, and Miss Ellie’s truck ain’t ever dirty.”
“Good job, son. This is the truck you saw?” asked Hardin.
“Yes, sir. Best I can remember.”
The sheriff nodded. “Is that a truck box on the back?”
“Yes, sir. One of those silver ones,” Kirk confirmed.
Hardin sighed. “Okay, Kirk. You can go.”
“What should I tell my mom? She’ll want to know why I’m late.”
“Tell her you were helping with an investigation,” Hardin replied.
“Yes, sir.”
After Kirk left, Wyatt took a look at the drawing. “Tolbert’s got a truck box on his truck,” he commented.
“So does Charla,” Hardin countered.
“And Ellie’s?”
“Nope. Not that I recall.”
“Well, at least that narrows the number of trucks we have to process. What’d you decide about the security guards?”
“If the Rangers are offering, I’ll take ’em. Probably ought to keep the deputies and me on the night shift for now. But maybe the guards could take the early shift so my guys can get some sleep.”
“I’ll arrange it. They won’t be able to start tomorrow, but I might be able to get them for the next morning shift. I’ll have the head of the security company call you with their names and credentials.”
“Great.” Hardin rubbed his eyes. “So where are you headed now?”
Wyatt looked at his watch and grimaced. “I need to get back to the lab. Nina’s working over there, and I don’t want to take a chance on her being there alone, not even for a few minutes.”
Chapter Fifteen
After Nina uploaded the photos of the skull fragments and e-mailed them to the Ranger lab, she set the camera aside and stared at the fragments and the one partially intact skull for a moment.
Her fingers itched to touch them, inspect them, get them under a microscope, but she’d promised herself she’d unload the last box of remains Todd had brought in and get the important pieces into the sink to soak first.
Todd and Julie had wanted to stay and help her examine the skull fragments. In fact they’d begged her, but she’d told them no. They were muddy and exhausted from their days’ work. They deserved a night off.
That was one reason she’d sent them away. The other—the most important reason—was that she wanted to be alone when she examined the skull fragments.
In case one of them was Marcie’s.
With stoic resolve, she turned her back on the skull bones, pulled on thick work gloves and dug into the box.
Most of the contents were tiny splinters and fragments that had been pulverized by the bulldozer. But there was one large piece in the box. She pulled it out, her pulse skittering.
It was a pelvic bone. Male, unlike the one that sat on the lab table. She brushed at it, but it was caked with dried mud. So she lowered it into the lab sink to let it soak for a few minutes.
Dusting her hands together, she glanced around. It was getting late. The big clock over the front door read six, the time Wyatt had told her he’d be back. A thrill skittered through her.
Wyatt. He’d have the test results they’d been waiting for, but that wasn’t the only reason for her quickened heartbeat.
She missed his calm, low voice, the whiff of the mint on his breath, the tingling sensation that filled her whenever he was close to her.
Dear heavens, she was in deeper than she’d realized. Resolutely, she took a deep breath, trying to quell the sense of anticipation.
Reminding herself that it hadn’t taken him any time to realize he’d made a mistake in taking her to bed. Otherwise, why would he have rejected her apology so abruptly?
Come on, she berated herself. Don’t fall for the sexy Ranger.
Deliberately, she turned her attention back to the skull fragments and the partially intact skull. She’d intended to have some information for Wyatt about them. As soon as he got here, he’d be pestering her to stop for the night, and she didn’t want to quit until she’d determined whether one of the fragments or the intact skull had belonged to a female.
She’d already tentatively matched the partially intact skull with the shorter thigh bone, and she couldn’t wait to tell Wyatt what she’d found.
Based on the state of the teeth and the skull’s age as indicated by the sutures, she was about seventy percent certain it had belonged to Mason Lattimer, the missing antiques broker. On the other hand, no matter whose it was, she was a hundred percent certain he’d been murdered. A couple of matching bone fragments had been splintered by a blow.
The remaining pieces were in two piles, based on their appearance. On casual examination as Todd and Julie were cleaning them, she’d concluded they had belonged to a male, but most of the fragments were small, so she wanted to double-check.
She changed to exam gloves and picked up a piece of skull about two inches in diameter. Its general architecture was rugged, which indicated a male, but there was an odd texture to the surface. It reminded her of the surface of the female pelvic bone from Daniel Taabe’s truck.
She fetched the pelvic bone and looked at it and the skull fragment side by side under the lighted magnifying lamp.
Her first impression was right. The two bones had similar markings. Their surfaces appeared to have been etched. Nina frowned and adjusted the light and magnification.
Definitely etched. And not just the outside. The inside, as well. As if with acid. That couldn’t have happened in the ground. The soil in this area was alkaline, due to the high limestone content.
She stared at the two pieces. There was another problem, too. The pelvic bone was female. But the skull fragment was definitely male. They matched—and yet they didn’t match.
It didn’t make sense.
She took close-up photos of them both, hoping the flash would heighten the contrast enough to show the etching in more detail. Then she reached for a scalpel to take scrapings. Using the chemicals here in the lab, she could identify any lingering traces of acid.
She straightened, rubbing the back of her neck. She’d been bent over too long. As soon as she finished with this one test, she would let Wyatt talk her into going back to the inn.
She was looking forward to a long hot bath and…
Her brain flashed on the luxurious pleasure of climbing into a warm, comfortable bed, but in the next nanosecond, her fantasy changed from a bed alone to a bed filled with Wyatt’s big, hot, sexy body.
She’d never been completely comfortable waking up next to someone. Even though she’d dated two guys seriously and long enough that she should have.
But this morning had changed everything. Waking up next to Wyatt had felt natural. Right.
Like a really good thing.
And that was a really bad thing.
It looked like they might get the case wrapped up soon. And that meant whatever th
is thing was between Wyatt and her, even though it was brand-new, it had a rapidly approaching expiration date.
That meant she had to rein in her imagination big-time. No more thinking about how nice it felt to wake up next to him. Or how his slightest touch had awakened her sexuality to a degree she’d never imagined possible.
No. The best thing she could do was to focus all her imagination, all her knowledge, all her energy, on identifying the three sets of remains as quickly as possible.
She carefully scraped the surface of the skull fragment, collected the dust in a beaker and labeled it. Then she did the same with the pelvic bone and a second beaker. As she set the scalpel down, a noise startled her.
A dull metallic thud. She realized she’d heard it before—several times, in fact—since Todd and Julie had left. She squeezed her eyes shut and stretched, trying to loosen up her tense muscles.
She heard the noise again and recognized what it was.
It was the hollow sound of a metal door slamming shut. Probably the door to one of the classrooms or other labs in the building. People leaving for the day.
Wyatt would be here soon. She smiled as she stepped over to the wall shelf that held bottles and jars of common chemicals used in first- and second-year chemistry lab work.
She quickly spotted the substance she needed behind a jar of pure sodium. She carefully lifted the heavy jar and set it on the counter, then stood on tiptoe to reach the bottle labeled Sodium Carbonate. Once she mixed the white powder with the bone dust and added silver nitrate, the resulting reaction would tell her if there was any acid on the bone.
She heard another door slam, and Wyatt’s handsome, angular face rose in her vision, setting her pulse to racing. She shook her head. Wyatt was here. So what? No time to get all girly.
She dipped a spatula into the sodium carbonate and sprinkled powder over the bone dust. She scanned the bottles on the shelf, looking for silver nitrate solution. Every chemistry lab at every college in the world had a bottle of silver nitrate.
Just as she spotted it, the lights went out.
She jumped, and the spatula hit the granite countertop with a clatter.
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