He dusted his hands on his pants, then glanced over. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“So what do you think?” he asked. “Worth the effort?”
“Definitely. I can check the cave off my list. I like to be thorough.”
He stepped closer, smiling, and rested his hands on his hips. “How come I knew that about you?” His voice was deep and low, and she couldn’t look away from his warm brown eyes.
She cleared her throat. “Thanks for helping.”
“Anytime.”
The silence stretched out. They stood in the sun, staring at each other, and the only sound was the low drone of locusts.
“Sara.”
She whipped her head around. Aaron crouched beside the pit with Talia. He looked from Sara to Nolan, then waved them over.
“You need to see this.”
CHAPTER 6
The Delphi Center parking lot was surprisingly crowded, considering it was the day before the Fourth of July. Sara would have thought most people would be taking a long weekend, but apparently not.
She swiped her way into the building and waved at the security guard as she crossed the lobby. With its soaring Doric columns and shiny marble floors, the Delphi Center reminded Sara of the university where she’d once worked. The difference here was the people. They had a certain energy that had been lacking in academia. People weren’t only acquiring knowledge but were doing something with it, applying tidy scientific theories to the utter mess of modern life. It’s what got Sara up in the morning, and she didn’t miss her university job one bit, because she believed in the mission here.
The murmur of jazz music greeted her as she neared the anthro lab. She stepped into her office and tried to find a spot for her tall iced latte on her cluttered desk. Not seeing an inch of free real estate, she set the cup on Kelsey Quinn’s desk, which had been uncharacteristically clean for the past two weeks.
“Hey, you’re here,” Aaron said from the doorway. He wore a white lab coat over jeans and a T-shirt.
“Sorry I’m late. Had to stop for caffeine.” Sara grabbed her lab coat off the hook behind the door. “You ray her yet?”
The remains had been a her since the pelvis was unearthed yesterday afternoon. Because of the flared iliac blades and wide subpubic angle to accommodate childbirth, Sara had quickly determined the remains were female.
“All finished,” Aaron said. “X-rays are up on my laptop.”
“Great. Any messages?”
“No.”
“I’m expecting a phone call from Dr. Underwood sometime today.”
His eyes widened. “Clifton Underwood?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I haven’t heard anything, and definitely nothing from him. The phone’s been silent.”
After a gulp of coffee, Sara followed him into the lab and stopped short when she saw the bones spread out on a table. “You cleaned them already?”
He shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve been here since this morning.”
“You didn’t have to do all that.”
“I know.”
“Thanks. Wow.”
Cleaning bits of flesh from a skeleton was a messy, stinky process that involved boiling batches of bones in a giant kettle. It wasn’t the worst part of the job, but it certainly wasn’t her favorite.
She followed Aaron to his notebook computer, which was open on the black slate counter. He tapped the mouse to bring the screen to life. Half a dozen X-rays appeared, two rows of three.
“Not a lot to see, unfortunately.”
Sara frowned at the images, hoping to spot anything to contradict his assessment. But as she’d observed down in the gorge, the skeleton displayed no obvious cause of death, such as a bullet hole or a compression fracture to the skull. She tapped the skull image to enlarge it but didn’t see any traces of metal left by a projectile.
“No bullet wipe,” she said.
“None anywhere.”
“And we never recovered the hyoid.”
“Nope.”
She glanced across the room at the table. “Let’s have a look at the hands.”
Sara surveyed the skeleton—what they’d recovered of it, anyway. They’d collected a grand total of 152 bones, which wasn’t bad, given how long the remains had been exposed to the elements.
Sara stood for a long moment, studying everything. Aaron had done a nearly perfect job arranging the bones. She moved a metacarpal from the right hand to the left and then rotated a tarsal bone in the foot.
Of the 206 bones in the human body, fifty-four were in the hands, and they often told a story. Pulling a magnifying glass from her pocket, Sara leaned over the right hand and studied the phalanges.
“No parry wounds that would indicate she fought off a knife attack.” She walked around the table and examined the left hand. “I wish we had that hyoid.”
Not all strangulation cases resulted in a broken hyoid, but some did, and it could be a useful indicator for cause of death.
No such luck in this case.
“I couldn’t come up with anything,” Aaron said.
“I’ll keep looking.” She glanced up as he checked a text on his phone.
“So, listen—”
“Feel free to take off,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. You worked the weekend.”
“I don’t mind or anything, but I’ve got an Ultimate game later, so—”
“Go. And thanks for everything. You went above and beyond.”
“Okay, well, I sent you the films, so check your email.” He shut down his computer and took off his lab coat as Sara returned her attention to the hands.
“You can come, you know.”
She looked up, and Aaron was watching her from the doorway.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“The game. It’s a bunch of us from Delphi—me, Ben, Roland, Laney. We play every second Monday at five.”
“Laney plays Ultimate Frisbee?” Sara tried to picture the pale-skinned cyber sleuth running around a field in the ninety-degree heat.
“Sometimes, yeah.” He shrugged. “Or she watches from the sidelines with friends. It’s a pretty good time, if you want to join us.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got to give a lecture tonight.” One she’d forgotten about until she woke up this morning and realized she hadn’t pulled her slides together. She’d been distracted with her trip to Springville. “Maybe next time.”
“Sure.” But he lifted an eyebrow skeptically as he left the room.
Sara refused to feel guilty for turning him down. It was nothing personal. She really did have a presentation to prep for. But she’d turned down quite a few invitations lately. At some point, her coworkers would simply stop asking, and she’d miss her window of opportunity to make friends. Not that she absolutely needed a lot of friends at her workplace, but she spent most of her time here, so it seemed like the logical place to start.
The problem was that most of the people she’d met at work were already part of a couple. Kelsey, Mia, Laney. Brooke had been one of the few holdouts when Sara first moved here, but as of Saturday, she was married, too. And married people tended to try to nudge their friends into relationships. Sara wasn’t interested. She was happily single.
Okay, maybe not happily, but at least contentedly. The last relationship she’d been in had turned her life inside out, and she didn’t want another for the foreseeable future.
Sara bent over the bones again and examined the surfaces for any signs of trauma. There were plenty of fractures, but they were consistent with what she’d expect if an inert body was dropped from an elevation. She paid specific attention to the neck bones. A slight nick on the C4 vertebra piqued her interest.
Sara lifted the bone for closer examination. Then she took out a slide and secured the bone with a dab of putty. Turning on her microscope, she placed the slide on the stage and peered through the viewfinder.
A small mark was visi
ble on the anterior surface of C4. But was it a postmortem artifact created by a scavenger? Or was it man-made? The lab’s tool-marks examiner could probably tell her. But he wasn’t here today, so she’d have to wait.
Sara switched off the microscope and returned to the table with her clipboard. She studied the pelvis, the joints, and the teeth, scribbling notes as she went. She’d promised Nolan an update on the Big Four, and she had a feeling he’d hold her to that.
Nolan Hess.
Detective Hess.
Like so many other cops she’d worked with, he had a strong, confident way about him that bordered on arrogance. Sara didn’t mind, really. She liked assertive people, male or female. But along with his confidence, Nolan had something else she’d noticed.
Empathy.
She’d seen it in his eyes when he talked about Kaylin’s family. She’d heard it in his voice when he pressured her to speed up her work so he could get them some answers. In Sara’s dealings with cops, empathy was much rarer than confidence. It couldn’t be learned. It came from the heart. Sara suspected it was one of the many things that made Nolan good at his job.
After making notes about age, sex, race, and stature, Sara got to a trickier question, postmortem interval. She could ballpark it based on the bones, but to get Nolan something specific—she hoped—she needed to consult some weather charts.
Sara turned to the table containing the assorted items that had been recovered with the bones. Everything had been sorted into flat cardboard trays, and Sara studied the contents: fabric remnants, three plastic buttons, the white sandal whose mate hadn’t been found. Perhaps the most important item was a silver loop earring. Sara had swabbed it for DNA before placing it in a little plastic bag. The earring was small—less than two centimeters—but might be a big lead for investigators in terms of getting an ID. A photo of the earring would be uploaded to NamUs, along with everything else, in hopes of connecting the remains to an unsolved case.
When Sara was all out of distractions, she turned her attention to the last cardboard tray. It contained a tangle of purple twine that had been found near the wrist bones.
Sara stared down at the twine. Thinking about it had kept her up half the night, tossing and turning. Now, using a pair of bamboo tongs, she picked up the tangle, which was knotted in the shape of a figure eight. The twine was caked with dirt, and the ends were frayed. After carefully unearthing it at the gravesite, Sara had studied it, photographed it from every angle, and swabbed it for DNA. The twine might be key to the entire case.
Or it might not. Maybe she was doing what she’d warned Nolan about, which was jumping to conclusions with insufficient evidence.
The phone rang, jolting Sara from her thoughts. She abandoned the trays and rushed to the lab line.
“Osteology.”
“Sara.”
The familiar voice filled her with relief. But her relief quickly turned to apprehension.
“Cliff, hi. Thank you so much for getting back to me.” She paused. “Did you have a chance to look at the photos?”
“Yes.”
That one word put a knot in her stomach. Clifton Underwood was her mentor, and she knew him well. He was about to confirm her worst fears.
“I examined your photographs, all eight of them.”
“And?” She held her breath.
“As you can imagine, I found them rather alarming.”
• • •
Talia caught sight of Nolan the second he stepped into the bull pen. He looked to be in a hurry, and she got up from her desk and walked over. He stood beside his chair, combing through a stack of reports.
“Can’t talk right now,” he said, not looking up. “I’m on my way out.”
“Kathy Baird is here asking for you.”
“Shit.” He looked over her shoulder at the waiting room. He’d come in the back entrance, probably to avoid getting sidetracked talking to anyone.
“Joanne put her in Interview Two.”
Nolan raked a hand through his hair, then checked his watch.
“Want me to send her away?” she asked.
He glanced at the interview room. “No. I’ll talk to her.”
Talia watched him, impressed that he didn’t try to duck the meeting. That wasn’t Nolan’s way. He confronted things head-on, which was one reason she was glad he’d been her training officer ever since she earned her detective’s shield and was promoted to the Crimes Against Persons Squad.
“Mind if I sit in?” she asked. Talking to families who had lost a loved one was one of the hardest parts of the job. “I want to see how you handle it.”
“Suit yourself.” He checked his watch one more time and then finger-combed his hair as he strode across the bull pen to the interview room, where the door stood ajar.
Kathy Baird was seated at a table with her purse at her feet and her hands in her lap. Not long ago, the woman had been a whirlwind of energy, organizing Springville’s annual Bikes for Kids fund-raiser every Christmas. But Kaylin had gone missing last summer, and everything had changed. At first, she’d poured all her energy into the search, mobilizing hundreds of people to comb the park and pass out flyers. But as the months dragged by, all that energy had drained away, and now she looked haggard. She’d once been one of those athletic-looking women with a tennis tan and perfectly highlighted blond hair. Now her cheeks were gaunt. She’d let her hair go to its natural brown and had a thick streak of gray on the right side.
“Mrs. Baird.” Nolan shook her hand as she stood up.
“Good to see you, Nolan.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “How are your folks?”
“Fine. Thanks. You know Detective Vazquez?”
“Of course.”
Talia nodded and smiled as the woman sank back into her chair. Instead of the designer workout gear she used to wear, she now wore a faded T-shirt and jeans. Talia took the seat across from her, but she wasn’t paying attention to Talia. She was focused on Nolan, searching his face for any hint that there might be news.
“I’m here about the discovery in the park,” she said.
Nolan took a chair and angled it so that he was facing her without the table between them. He looked Kaylin’s mother directly in the eye.
“We recovered some bones in White Falls Park,” he said. “They were in Rattlesnake Gorge, on the far west side.”
“Sam told me. Kaylin liked to hike there. She went there all the time.”
“Yes, ma’am. I know.”
“He said he gave you her X-rays. Can you tell whether it’s—”
“We don’t know anything conclusive yet. The remains were transported to the Delphi Center forensic lab. I’m on my way to talk to one of the specialists now.”
Hope flared in her eyes, and she leaned forward. “Will you call me after? As soon as you know anything?”
“Yes, I will.”
“And you gave them the X-rays?”
“I did.”
She leaned back in her chair, and her shoulders sagged. Her attention shifted to Talia, and Talia was struck by the deep sadness in her eyes.
“You know, I dream about her all the time. Almost every night.” She smiled slightly. “It’s something I look forward to.”
Talia didn’t know what to say. The comment seemed directed at her, and she darted a look at Nolan for help. He simply watched the woman patiently, as if he had all the time in the world.
“Well.” She blew out a sigh and picked up her purse. “I won’t keep you.” She stood up. “You can call us anytime.”
“I have all your numbers.”
“I’ll see myself out.”
Talia watched her cross the bull pen and wondered if she noticed how everyone glanced away, avoiding eye contact. She was probably used to that by now.
She looked at Nolan. “She looks old enough to be Kaylin’s grandmother.”
“Stress’ll do that to you.”
“So, you’re off to San Marcos?”
“Yep.”
>
Talia watched his reaction. Was this a business trip only, or was there some other reason he was going, such as a certain forensic anthropologist?
She followed him back to his desk, unable to resist ribbing him. “Wouldn’t it be easier to pick up the phone?”
“Easier but less effective. People can ignore a phone call.” Nolan grabbed a stack of reports from his in-box and thumbed through. He met her gaze. “If you really want answers, you need to show up and talk to people face-to-face.”
He was using his training-officer voice. She didn’t mind, really. Nolan was a good mentor, and she was lucky to have him. Still, she had to give him crap when he got bossy.
“Thank you, Obi-wan,” she said.
“Anytime.” He smiled and grabbed his car keys, clearly eager to get on the road, which answered her question.
“Let me know how it goes,” she said. “And say hi to Sara for me.”
• • •
Nolan stood by the fountain, watching the quadrangle as the sky darkened and the fireflies came out. The university was quiet tonight, with only a trickle of students moving in and out of the library. He tried to remember the last time he’d been on a college campus. Probably during his patrol days in Austin when he’d been responding to some complaint at UT.
The door to the auditorium opened, and people filed out—mostly middle-aged and mostly without cell phones glued to their hands. The continuing-education crowd, and it really was a crowd. Dr. Sara Lockhart was a popular attraction.
She stepped outside, and Nolan knew the instant she spotted him. Her expression went from surprised to happy to wary, all in a few fleeting moments. Nolan focused on the second reaction as she approached him. She wore black jeans with a lightweight blazer, and her computer bag was slung over her shoulder. This was her college-professor look.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Sitting in on your lecture.”
“How did you find me?”
He smiled. “I’m a detective.”
Her eyebrows arched.
“The event was posted on the university website.” He nodded toward the building. “I saw it when I googled your name.”
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