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Stone Cold Heart

Page 4

by Laura Griffin


  He.

  Grace pictured the blue eyes, the blue shirt, the blue arm reaching back. Terror shot through her like an electric jolt. He’d used a stun gun on her.

  Another bump, and the side of her foot scraped against something. She was barefoot. What about her clothes? Another zing of panic, because she couldn’t see anything. But then she registered the sharp point near her armpit. Her strapless bra. The underwire protruding through the fabric. The familiar feel of it poking into her skin gave her a speck of comfort.

  Another bump. And then another. Her knee knocked against something hard as the vehicle bounced and rattled. They weren’t on a road, at least not a good one.

  Where is he taking me?

  The car slowed. Grace’s heart skittered. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

  The car rolled to a stop.

  CHAPTER 5

  When Sara arrived at the park at 6:45, Nolan was already there, leaning casually against the back of his pickup with a coffee cup in hand. She pulled into the space beside him and got out, looking him over. If not for the gun and the badge clipped to his belt, he could have passed for a hiker in his all-terrain boots and khaki tactical pants. The layer of stubble on his jaw was even thicker now.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “Good morning. How’d it go here last night?”

  “Pretty quiet. We had some mountain bikers around sunup, but I turned them away.”

  Sara went around to the back of her SUV and opened the cargo door. “Did you sleep out here?”

  “Biggs—he’s one of our officers—he and I traded shifts. Mine started at four.”

  She grabbed the thermos she’d filled from the coffeepot in her motel room. “Can I top you off?”

  “Definitely.”

  She unscrewed the cap, and he held out his mug.

  “So what’s the plan?” he asked as she poured. He looked her over, brown eyes alert, and seemed eager to get started.

  “My lab assistant, Aaron, is coming at seven with gear and grad students.” She replaced the top and set down the thermos. “We’ll haul everything down, set up a tent to protect from the elements, and begin our work.”

  “No rain in the forecast. Fact, you’re probably aware we’ve hardly had three inches out here all summer.”

  “The tent is for the sun, mostly. I don’t want my people getting heatstroke.”

  A low groan of an engine made Sara turn toward the road as a white van came into view. Aaron turned into the lot and pulled into a space beside Sara’s Explorer.

  “They’re early, too,” she said.

  Aaron got out, eyeing Sara and Nolan. The van door slid open, and a pair of anthropology grad students piled out. Keith and Julia had been handpicked for this job. Both were known for their physical stamina and attention to detail.

  Sara introduced everyone, and they started dragging big plastic tubs from the back of the van. Aaron slid poles through the handles, so they could share the weight as they made the long trek down to the excavation site. With Nolan’s help, they got everything to the bottom of the gorge in one trip.

  After dropping off the last tub, Nolan excused himself to take care of something in town, promising to check back later. His departure came as a relief. Sara didn’t mind getting a hand with the gear, but cops were impatient by nature and tended to get in the way.

  Keith and Julia unloaded tools while Sara and Aaron went to work on the tent, assembling the frame with well-practiced movements.

  “Helpful detective,” Aaron observed.

  Sara shot him a look.

  “He going to be down here all day?”

  “No idea,” she said.

  After the tent was up, Sara stepped over to examine the recovery site. Spiderwebs glistened with dew, and Sara swatted them away as she knelt for a closer look.

  “This ground’s hard,” Aaron said. “It’s going to be a bitch getting our stakes in. Could take all morning just to get the grid set up.”

  “I know.” Sara looked up. “Hand me that mallet, would you?”

  • • •

  It didn’t take all morning but half. After staking out the burial site, they used string to divide it into quadrants. By ten o’clock they were digging, and by noon they were fully immersed in the painstaking process of unearthing the half-buried bones and clothing.

  The work was hot and tedious, and Sara lost herself in it. Some people listened to music or audiobooks, but Sara preferred a natural soundtrack. She liked the quiet drone of the cicadas, the whisper of wind through the canyon, and the soft rasp of bristles as she dusted off bones with her boar’s-hair brush.

  The sun blazed down. The temperature climbed. Sara ignored the sting of sweat in her eyes as she carefully uncovered an ulna.

  “Fractured,” she murmured, more to herself than to anyone. With his earbuds in, Aaron was oblivious to her commentary.

  Sara sat back and sighed heavily. Then she reached for the camera sitting under the cool shade of the little tent she’d erected for it. She snapped a few pictures of the bone, careful to document the jagged edge, before using a pair of bamboo tongs to lift the shard from the dirt. She never used metal tools directly on bone, wanting to avoid leaving marks that might later be mistaken for signs of violence.

  She placed the bone in a cardboard box beside her.

  “He’s back.”

  She looked at Aaron. “What?”

  He plucked out his earbuds. “And he brought company.”

  Sara turned around. Her heart skittered as she saw Nolan coming down the path carrying a pallet of bottled water. A woman walked beside him—dark-haired, petite, dressed almost exactly like Nolan in a navy T-shirt and khaki tactical pants, with a badge and a gun on her hip. Her baseball cap said SPD across the front.

  Nolan’s gaze met Sara’s as he deposited the water beside the tent. She stood and shook out her stiff legs, dusting her hands on her coveralls as Nolan and the woman approached.

  “I’d like y’all to meet Natalia Vazquez,” Nolan said.

  “Call me Talia.” She peeled off her sunglasses and nodded at Sara, then Aaron. She had brown-black eyes and a friendly smile.

  “Talia’s the other full-time detective in my department, and she’ll be working this case with us.”

  Sara introduced her team, starting with Aaron, who was suddenly at her side, eagerly shaking hands with the pretty detective. From under the tent, the grad students looked up from their sifting screens and waved.

  Nolan turned to Sara. “Talia wanted to walk the scene, get a look at your setup here.”

  “I’ll show her,” Aaron said.

  “And I wanted to have a word.” Nolan nodded away from the group, indicating he wanted a private conversation.

  The sun was almost directly overhead, but Sara found a narrow strip of shade close to the wall. Her clothes were saturated, along with her baseball cap and even her ponytail. She pulled the hat off and wiped her brow with her forearm as she looked up at Nolan.

  “Thanks for the water,” she said.

  “No problem. You’re getting some sun.”

  “I just put block on.” She glanced at Aaron beside the excavation pit, then back at Nolan. His hands rested on his hips, and his expression was serious. “What’s up, Detective?”

  He waited a beat before answering. “How’s it coming?”

  “Slow.”

  He nodded. “I heard what you said last night about needing confirmation. But I want to get a look at those personal items.”

  “Personal items?”

  “Whatever you’ve got so far.”

  Sara stared up at him for a long moment, reading the determination in his eyes.

  “You seem to think you might know who it is.”

  “A young hiker went missing last year,” he said. “Kaylin Baird. There’s a chance it’s her.”

  “A chance?”

  “Problem is, her backpack was found in another par
k about twenty miles east of here, so it doesn’t quite add up. But still, there’s a chance, and her family’s hoping.”

  Hoping. The word put a pang in Sara’s chest. She couldn’t imagine the nightmare of having a child disappear and going without answers for so many months or years that the discovery of bones was a reason to hope.

  “I can show you what we have,” she said, “but you know personal items can’t be used to establish ID.”

  “I realize that.”

  “For positive identification, I need fingerprints, DNA, or dental records, and in my line of work, I don’t usually see fingerprints, unless I’m dealing with a water recovery.” She paused. “Do you know if she’s in the system?”

  “Fingerprints? No. She was never arrested.”

  “Not that system. I mean the database. NamUs, the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System. Did the family submit a DNA sample?”

  “I’m not sure. I know they were made aware of it back when Kaylin went missing, but I don’t know if they ever followed up.”

  “Find out.” Sara nodded at the tent. “In the meantime, if you want to take a look at what we’ve got so far . . .” She ushered him over to the folding table where recovered items had been sorted into cardboard trays. Four of the trays contained various bones and bone fragments. The last tray held remnants of gray fabric and a heeled sandal. The leather straps were discolored, but they’d once been white.

  Nolan stepped up to the table, zeroing in on the sandal. Sara read the disappointment on his face.

  “We haven’t found the other one.” Sara picked up the ruler she’d used for scale when taking photographs. “The heel is six centimeters. It’s hard to imagine someone hiking or even walking out here in shoes like that for any length of time.”

  He stared down at the items. “What about the fabric?” He looked up. “It’s from her clothes?”

  “Again, the sex is unconfirmed.”

  His eyebrows arched.

  “I know it seems far-fetched, but I once worked a case where bones and women’s clothing were found in a well, and police were about to arrest a nearby resident for killing his wife, who’d been missing. But the remains turned out to be a male prostitute—dressed as a female—who’d been kidnapped and murdered. I really can’t tell you anything with certainty until we get all this back to the lab. At that point, I can get you the Big Four.” Sara ticked them off on her fingers. “That’s age, sex, race, and stature.”

  “Any chance you’ll be back at the lab tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know. This is a time-consuming process, and there’s no cutting corners.” She nodded at Keith and Julia, doggedly sifting through every scoopful of dirt she and Aaron had removed from the grave. “Everything from the pit has to be sifted for clues—a wad of gum, a cigarette butt, a scrap of duct tape. The tiniest bit of evidence could be a critical lead. This work takes time.”

  Nolan studied the fabric, which had a sheen to it. The cloth was rotted and discolored, likely the remnants of a dress or a long blouse based on the shape of the garment.

  And again, not what you would expect a hiker to be wearing.

  “Cause of death?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Nothing obvious, though, such as a bullet through the skull. As for manner of death, again, it’s unclear at this point. I haven’t ruled out suicide or accidental death. Maybe this person was out here sightseeing and stepped off a cliff.”

  Nolan looked at her, his expression grim. He wanted answers. And she planned to give them to him, but she needed time to study the remains and confirm her initial findings.

  “When did Kaylin go missing, exactly?” she asked.

  “May sixth of last year. Fourteen months ago.”

  Yet another factor that didn’t line up. Sara wasn’t sure of the postmortem interval yet, but everything she’d seen so far pointed to a PMI of less than fourteen months.

  Nolan combed his hand through his hair and stepped back.

  “This family’s desperate,” he said, clearly frustrated. “You have no idea.”

  “I do.” She held his gaze.

  “This girl’s parents are begging me for information, and I have to give them something, even if it’s bad news. These people are in agony.”

  “I understand. That’s one reason I do this work, Nolan. I know how excruciating it is for people, and I promise to get you some answers. We’re working as fast as we can.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, and Sara knew he was desperate, too. And not just for answers about Kaylin. If these bones weren’t hers, he was potentially looking at two victims in his jurisdiction.

  Nolan was a leader. She’d sensed that about him from the moment they met. He held himself accountable for everything that happened in his jurisdiction.

  He rubbed the back of his neck as he stared down at the lonely white sandal that had been ravaged by the elements.

  “I left an envelope on the front seat of your car,” he said. “It’s X-rays from when Kaylin was a child. Her parents are hoping they might help with the ID.”

  “Thank you. I’ll take a look.”

  Nolan’s attention shifted to the burial pit, then back to Sara. “How can I help?”

  “Well, the water’s a big help.”

  “I’m serious. Give me a shovel, and let me pitch in with the real work.”

  Sara had expected the offer. “Are you trained in bone recovery?”

  “No, but you can teach me.”

  “This isn’t the place. Come visit us at the lab, and we can put you in a class with some grad students.”

  “There has to be something I can do for you.”

  Sara gazed up at him, once again seeing the determination in his eyes. “Well, there is something. I’ve been putting it off because I’m a bit squeamish.”

  “You? Squeamish?” He smiled. “You dig up corpses for a living.”

  “Yes, well, I’m claustrophobic. Do you have any problem with tight spaces?”

  “No. Show me what you need.”

  Ignoring the curious looks from Keith and Julia, Sara retrieved a pair of flashlights from the equipment bin and handed one to Nolan. She grabbed her camera from beside the burial pit and looped it around her neck.

  “This way.”

  She led him under the shadow of an overhang and tromped along the floor of the gorge, acutely aware of his large male presence beside her. Given his size, he was probably going to regret volunteering for this. Sara spied the carved initials on the rock face and pointed to the yawning black opening about five feet above the ground.

  “You want me to check out that cave?” he asked.

  “Considering its proximity, we should definitely look to see if there’s any physical evidence associated with our crime scene.”

  He was already climbing over the large rocks leading up to the mouth. He crouched down and ducked his head.

  “Entrance is pretty low.”

  She joined him on the rocks. “Think we can squeeze through?”

  “Sure.”

  He beamed the flashlight into the opening. “Gets bigger inside. Here, point your light for me, would you?”

  Sara switched on her flashlight and aimed it into the blackness. Nolan tucked his light into the back of his pants. He then duck-walked inside, somehow managing not to fall on his butt, as she certainly would have.

  “I can stand up in here,” he said.

  Sara switched off her flashlight and tucked it into her bra. She took a deep breath and followed Nolan’s lead—although she opted to go on her hands and knees. When she made it inside the cave, Nolan offered her a hand and helped her to her feet.

  The air was cool and smelled of sulfur. A shiver ran through her. Nolan had room to stand, but still the space seemed impossibly small. Sara’s stomach clenched as she thought of the immense weight of rock above their heads.

  Nolan was watching her. “You okay?”

  “Fine.”

  He pointed his light at the ici
cle-shaped rock formations dripping from the ceiling. “Look at that.”

  “Stalactites.” Sara swept her flashlight beam over the floor. “And stalagmites, too.”

  “I can never remember the difference.”

  “Just remember C for ceiling, G for ground.” Sara ventured a few steps deeper into the cavern, noting the milky puddles on the floor made from water and mineral deposits.

  Nolan walked away, and Sara instinctively followed him, still freaked out to be in here. His presence helped calm her nerves, even though he took up a lot of the limited space.

  “Look.” He pointed his light at the remnants of a small fire. Nearby, a burned-down pillar candle sat in a pool of dried wax.

  “Looks like this is a hangout.” Sara set down her flashlight and lifted her camera to snap a photo of the candle.

  Nolan stepped away to examine some graffiti on the wall. Sara walked up behind him and dusted a spider off his shoulder.

  “What? Shit!” Nolan lurched away.

  “Just a spider.”

  “I freaking hate those things.”

  “Arachnophobia.”

  He glared at her, and she smiled.

  “Don’t be embarrassed—it’s the most common phobia.”

  She knelt to take a photo of the graffiti. The crude pentagram had been carved into the limestone by something sharp, a knife or maybe a car key.

  Stepping away again, Nolan inspected the remaining corners of the cave. “That’s about it. No bones. No tunnels leading anywhere.” He shone his light at the ceiling, illuminating a terrifyingly large swath of black. “Just some bats.”

  Sara shuddered.

  Nolan aimed his light at her. “You seen enough?”

  “Yes. Let’s go.”

  “You lead.”

  Sara duck-walked through the opening, somehow managing not to fall on her butt. Standing up, she blinked at the sun and felt ridiculously grateful to be back in the sweltering heat.

  Nolan emerged from the cave and flowed to his feet with the sort of natural athleticism Sara had envied her whole life. She would bet he’d played sports in high school, maybe even college, and probably had a gaggle of girls lusting after him. In high school, Sara had been a science geek and a late bloomer—completely invisible to guys like Nolan.

 

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