Little Girl Blue, a Seth and Ava Mystery
Page 4
Nelson pointed. Ava got back onto the road and turned onto another two-lane road.
“Go about a half mile,” Nelson said. “A little less.”
Ava shot Nelson a doubtful look in the rearview mirror. He waved her forward. Shrugging, she drove until Nelson said, “Here! It’s here!”
She pulled the vehicle onto the gravel abatement. They looked out at the property. Ava shook her head.
“You’re sure?” Ava asked.
“Positive,” Nelson said.
“I can see why Seth and Mitch missed those demarcations,” Bob said. “You certainly can’t see them from here.”
“Let’s take a look,” Ava said.
They got out of the vehicle and stood on the edge of the property. The land was dry and filled with native prairie grass and low brush.
“You really can’t see the marks,” Ava said.
“I brought my drone,” Nelson said.
“The boy and his toys,” Bob said with a grin. “How about if I head out there and take some pictures?”
“You should change your shoes,” Ava said. “There’s bound to be cactus out there. We should put on our low Kevlar gators, too.”
“Snakes,” Nelson said with a nod.
“Spiders,” Ava said.
They went back to the SUV to change from their street shoes and fitness shoes to thick, knobby-soled hiking boots. They zipped up tubes called “gators,” which wrapped their lower legs in Kevlar. Ava took three full cold-water bottles and gave one to Nelson and one to Bob.
Nelson unpacked and put together his drone. Bob took out his digital SLR camera.
While the men got ready, Ava took out the team computer-tablet image of the original map that Seth’s partner, Mitch Delgado, had drawn of the site. She found the stump of the tree near the road. She had just stepped onto the field when a figure appeared on her right, at the lower edge of the field.
Turning to look, Ava put her hand on her forehead to shade her eyes from the bright sun.
A heavily wrinkled woman was walking toward her. Just ahead of the woman, two farm dogs picked their way across the field. One dog was decidedly old, and the other appeared to be a year or so old. Smiling, Ava knelt down to pet the dogs. The older one came right to her, but the younger one stayed with his owner. The woman watched her closely.
“Yeh like dogs?” the woman asked.
“I do,” Ava said with a smile. Ava gave the dog’s ears one last scratch and stood up. “We have a chocolate lab.”
The woman gave Ava a long look before nodding.
“Wha’chew wan’ here?” the woman asked.
Standing up, Ava looked at the woman. Either she was a sun-aged seventy or at least ninety years old. Her skin was brown, but likely from the sun and not some genetic predisposition. Her long white hair was up in a messy bun. She seemed to have her teeth, which, in her generation, meant that she likely came from money. She was small but sturdy — a classic Colorado native. She squinted as she looked up at Ava.
“Ma’am,” Ava said.
“Yeh look enough like Vivian Bell t’ be her daughter,” the woman said.
“She’s my mother,” Ava said. “Do you know her?”
Nodding, the woman grunted.
“I’m Ava O’Malley. And you are?” Ava asked.
“Judith,” the woman said. “Don’t have a last name. I had one, and then another. Men. So fragile. They never last very long. I could have taken back my father’s, but he was an asshole. Just go by ‘Judith’ now — not that anyone cares.”
Ava had to work to keep the grin off her face. This woman was charming. Judith nodded at Ava. Judith watched Nelson putting together his drone for a minute.
“You wouldn’t happen t’ be related t’ that Seth O’Malley, would you?” Judith asked.
“He’s my husband,” Ava said.
“I love that symphony album he made,” Judith looked at her. “You know the one.”
Judith grinned. Amused, Ava just nodded. Seth had been playing professionally since he was ten years old. He’d played on thousands of records — some of his own, many with other people. Only his agent was able to keep track of it all. Ava smiled, but Judith turned serious.
“Wha’chew wan’ here?” Judith asked again.
“I am a forensic scientist,” Ava said. “These men are on my team. This is Dr. Nelson Weeks.”
Nelson looked up from where he was assembling the drone and waved to the elderly woman.
“There’s a gorgeous man,” Judith said.
“That’s Dr. Bob Parrish,” Ava said.
Carrying a heavy evidence-collection gear bag, Bob walked toward them. He set the bag down and held out his hand to shake Judith’s hand. She looked at his hand for a long moment before shaking it. She let go a little too fast.
“You wouldn’t happen to be Judith Akers, would you?” Nelson yelled in their direction.
She scowled at Nelson but didn’t respond.
“This piece of property belongs t’ me,” Judith said. “I have a right t’ know wha’chew’re doin’ here!”
“We are looking into the death of a young woman,” Bob said. In situations that lent themselves to an older white man’s authority, Bob always stepped in to help. “We are from the Denver Crime lab. Seth O’Malley is the detective on our team. We using more modern forensic techniques to determine who killed the girl.”
“Why do you care about this?” Judith asked.
“We have received funding for a grant to look into unsolved cases in rural areas,” Bob continued. “Detective O’Malley received a call from the Sheriff in this county.”
“He’s about as useless as his father,” Judith said with a derisive snort.
His drone assembled, Nelson walked toward them carrying the device.
“The Sheriff said that he wanted to have this case cleared up — the sooner, the better,” Bob continued. “We decided to start here, in Chivington. This is our first case.”
“Ever?” Judith looked up at Bob.
“For this contract,” Ava said. “It was a big honor to get the contract in the first place.”
Judith gave Ava a long look before saying, “Wonder why they gave it t’ you.”
Ava wasn’t sure what Judith was saying. In the back of her mind, she had wondered why they’d given the grant to her and her team. She shrugged.
“We’re the best team at Denver Crime lab,” Nelson said.
“Her Daddy’s Aaron Alvin,” Judith said. “That right?”
Judith raised her eyebrows and nodded to Ava. Bob cleared his throat.
“We were told that this land belonged to the state,” Bob said.
Judith gave a quick nod. “I live here until I die. You can’t imagine how disappointed they are that I’m still here.”
Ava looked in Nelson’s direction and caught his eye. She asked the silent question: Do you know about this?
Catching her meaning, he shook his head. Ava turned back to look at him.
“I sure hope you won’t mind if we take a look on your property,” Bob said. “It would certainly make a big difference to the girl’s family.”
Judith scowled at Bob but nodded.
“This here is holy land,” Judith said. “You can come here, but you have t’ be careful.”
“Of what?” Nelson asked brightly.
“Of those who don’t want to be forgotten. Them that put them there,” Judith said. “I’ve been watching over this piece of land since I was a young child.”
Bob, Nelson, and Ava looked at Judith for a long moment before Ava asked, “Why?”
Judith wagged her finger at Ava. Without saying a word, she turned and walked away. She was well on her way when Ava called out to her.
“Please,” Ava said. “Tell us what’s going on here. It would help quite a bit.”
Judith turned to look at Ava. She blinked and then blinked again.
“If you’re as good as you say you are, you’ll figure it out,” Judith said
.
Judith whistled for the dogs and walked away. She was almost to the end of the lot when she turned to yell.
“I’ll answer any good questions,” Judith yelled. “When you have them, that is.”
She gave them a nod and continued walking.
“Well, that was weird,” Nelson said with a grin.
Scowling, Ava nodded.
“Let’s get to work,” Bob said.
Seven
Nelson walked to the middle of the lot and started the drone. He went back to the vehicle to watch the feed on his computer. Bob set their evidence bag down. Ava took out a tablet computer from the bag and pulled up the crime-scene photos from the murder.
While Bob unpacked, Ava used the map to wander the site until she found the location where the body had been dumped. She was standing in front of the area when Bob walked up.
“O’Malley was right,” Bob said. “They really did just drive her out here and dump her.”
Ava pointed to an old piece of police tape.
“You think that’s from this case?” Bob asked. “Or you think someone else was buried right here in this spot some other time?”
“Good question for the Sheriff,” Ava said. “Will you keep a list?”
Bob gave a nod.
“There’s no cell service here,” Ava said, looking at her phone.
“My laptop’s connected via satellite,” Nelson said. “We can text and email but no video.”
Ava went to the back of the SUV, where Nelson’s laptop was set up. She opened the case file for this case on their main server at the Denver Crime lab. She thought for a moment and copied the file to Nelson’s laptop. Opening the folder on Nelson’s laptop, she saw that Dr. Quincy had added a list of forensic samples she would like them to take from this site. There was also a notification that the family had agreed to exhume the young woman’s body. Ava showed Bob the list, and he nodded.
“That’s pretty close to what we thought,” Bob said.
Ava nodded. They pulled on forensic jumpsuits made of Tyvek and shower cap like hats. Although it seemed pointless in this open field, they pulled on booties over their boots.
Nelson came back to the SUV to look at the laboratory’s laptop.
“You saved the case file to the lab laptop?” Nelson asked.
“In case we can’t get on again,” Ava said.
“In case someone’s looking,” Bob said.
“Just checking that you knew you’d done that,” Nelson said, mildly.
“I’m not a complete idiot,” Ava said.
“Yes, boss,” Nelson said.
They laughed. She went to look at what Nelson was recording. Bob appeared on the other side of Nelson.
Above the field, the drone showed a series of square depressions. They were roughly uniform in shape and size. They were laid out on the field in an even pattern. Each row was off-set so that the rectangles weren’t exactly in a row. The pattern repeated to the end of the field.
Ava drew a fast breath at the sight.
“That’s . . .”
“Two hundred and fifty,” Nelson said.
“Tents?” Bob asked. “Two hundred and fifty tents is a . . .”
“Town,” Ava said in a soft voice.
They looked out at the field in shocked wonder.
“I can do it from the photo, but would you mind measuring the size?” Nelson asked. “I want to see if I can figure out what these are by their size — you know, before we start digging.”
Nelson held out two laser measures the size of walkie-talkies. Bob and Ava each took a laser measure and their accompanying blocks of wood made from a two-by-four. They started into the field.
“Just go there,” Nelson said, pointing in their direction.
“We can’t see what you’re seeing,” Ava said.
“Oh. Right,” Nelson said. “Good point. Okay, go two feet to your left.”
Ava and Bob moved two feet to their left.
“Now four feet forward . . .” Nelson said.
Ava and Bob started walking .
“Stop! Nelson screamed. “Okay. Mark where you are.”
Ava and Bob jammed the piece of wood into the sand.
“Good,” Nelson said. “Now, Ava walk to your right. Bob — you walk forward.”
They did as they were told.
“Ava stop!” Nelson said. Bob kept walking for a ways before Nelson yelled, “Stop. Bob!”
He stopped walking. They dropped down to a squat. The red-light from the laser hit the piece of two-by-four they’d stuck into the sand.
“How far is that from your original spot?” Nelson asked.
“Seven feet,” Ava read off the laser measure.
“The same,” Bob said, reading off his laser measure. “Seven feet.”
“Huh,” Nelson said.
“You know what this reminds me of?” Bob asked at the same time Nelson said, “What in the world could this be?”
“What does it remind you of?” Ava asked.
“Tents,” Bob said. “Specifically canvas tents. My dad used to have this old tent. He said that his father bought it from a miner when they went visiting ‘out West.’ It was seven-by-seven. About six feet tall.”
Bob looked around at the field.
“It was cozy, but plenty of space for a couple of adults and some young children,” Bob said.
“There’s two hundred and fifty of these impressions,” Ava said. Turning to Bob, she said, “You think they were all tents.”
“That’s a lot of tents,” Bob said.
“Nelson,” Ava said.
He jogged to her.
“How big is this lot?” Ava asked.
“Hectare,” Nelson said. “About three acres.”
“Homestead Act of 1862 gave 160 acres,” Bob said with a nod.
“64 hectares,” Nelson said.
They looked at the lot for a moment. Ava shrugged.
“We won’t know what this is until we take a look,” Ava said. “That means a lot of digging.”
“I can dig,” Bob said.
“Do you have what you need from your drone, Nelson?” Ava asked.
“I can review the tapes in the car or back at the lab,” Nelson said with a shrug. “I can dig.”
“Great. I’ll get the samples that Dr. Quincy wanted and help you when I’m done,” Ava said. “You two — pick a site, and see what you can find. Mind if I use the camera?”
“I brought them both,” Nelson said. “They are charged and ready to go.”
“Great. I’ll get the other one,” Ava said. “We should document every piece of this. Did you bring your camp shovel?”
“I did,” Bob said.
“It’s a part of my standard pack,” Nelson said.
“I brought mine, too,” Ava said. “And some toilet paper, if you’re in need.”
She pointed at Bob and then at Nelson.
“No mistakes,” Ava said. “We have no idea what we’ll find there. Anything of forensic relevance, and we call the Sheriff. Period.”
The men nodded in agreement.
“Will you call the state archaeologist?” Bob asked.
“If we find something she’d be interested in,” Ava said. She looked around the site. “I can tell you that she’s not going to want to come out here.”
“When’s the baby due?” Nelson asked.
“About a month,” Ava said. “So, let’s act as if she told us to do the job.”
Bob opened his mouth to speak.
“I will call her the moment we find something,” Ava said. “Remember — if the burial looks native, we need to immediately call the Colorado Commission of Indian Affairs.”
The men nodded. Nelson pointed to Ava.
“Yes, I will do the calling,” Ava grinned at him.
He nodded in thanks.
“Better to go slow and safe than speedy,” Ava said. “Let’s try not to fuck it up.”
“Good plan,” Bob said with a grin.
Bob and Nelson talked for a moment before picking a site near the middle of the field. Bob started by making measurements with the laser measure. Bob took a series of photos to show what it looked like before they started. While Bob worked, Nelson landed his drone and packed it away. Nelson grabbed the tripod from the SUV, and the men set up the camera on it to document everything they did.
Ava stood a foot off the road in front of the area where the young woman had been buried. There was little to indicate that a body had ever been buried here. Rain, snow, sun, and sand storms had given the sand a hard, almost crunchy surface. Slow-growing grasses and weeds covered almost all of the burial site. The only demarcation was a small area where the top crust and slow growing plants had been disturbed — relatively recently.
Ava took a series of pictures of the area. She took overhead pictures as well as close-up photos of the site. She made sure to take images of any area that looked as if it had been disturbed.
She looked at the crime-scene photos. The area where the dirt had been disturbed was just about six inches from where the young woman’s head had lain. There was nothing on the old photos to indicate that this small area was any different from the rest of the burial site.
Ava used her laser measure to take detailed measurements of the seven-by-seven square and the area where the earth had been disturbed. They would build a 3-D model these measurements. So, they needed to be absolutely accurate.
When she’d finished measuring, Ava set up the digital camera to videotape her efforts at the grave. Using small craft sticks, she marked an outline of where the young woman’s body had lain. Ava stood back to look at the ground for a moment.
The original site investigation had failed to turn up one of the young woman’s shoes. Her purse was also missing. Ava tapped her lip. Sighing to herself, she walked back to the vehicle to get her shovel and an earth strainer.
She set up a 24 inch square box with a mesh dirt strainer on top and got to work shoveling. She started by digging out the first three inches of the plot. Filling the spade with dirt, she gently set the earth on the sieve. It was slow, laborious work. But it was the only way she could be certain that she hadn’t missed anything.