“Who is Bacon?” he asked, still not making eye contact.
“Andrew,” she said between clenched teeth. “My ex-fiancé. People call him Bacon.”
“And what is he doing in Rusty Gun?”
“I have no idea,” she said. “The last I’d heard he’d taken a research position at Scotland Yard. I haven’t seen or heard from him in years.”
“Scotland Yard?” Hank asked.
“Yep,” she said. “He’s the world’s most renowned forensic anthropologist, and the only reason I could think for him to be here is if he’s been called in for a special assignment.”
“Andrew?” Hank asked again, his expression quizzical. He finally looked at her. “Are you talking about Dr. Andrew Lawrence? The Dr. Lawrence.”
“Yes,” she said.
“Aggie, I didn’t just fall fresh off the turnip truck. The FBI is not going to call in someone like Dr. Lawrence because a grave was opened and a few trinkets were stolen. And another question, if he is here because of the grave robberies, we only found out about it this morning. He didn’t just take a time machine from London and get here in time for the investigation. He’s been in the area.”
“Maybe it’s an ongoing case?” she suggested. “Does it matter? We’re off the case anyway, so it’s not our problem. And even if we were on the case, I could just pass on it.”
“Why? Can’t trust yourself around him?” he asked.
“Really?” she asked. “That’s the direction you’re going to take this?”
“Why not?” he said. “We’ve known each other for two years, and never once, not once have you ever mentioned that you’d been engaged. And now he just shows up out of the blue, and I’m supposed to be okay with it?”
“Maybe I didn’t mention it because it was literally that unimportant to me,” she said, her voice rising. “I seem to recall it was more than a year before you bothered to tell me you’d been married before, so how about you not throw stones at glass houses. Or maybe you’re fine with me confiding in you about every aspect of my life, like you were just complaining about with the adoption agency, but you don’t feel the rules should reciprocate?
“But, hey,” she said, “If you’re ready to start telling me about your past and your old cases, and all of the other stuff I know you keep hidden inside like some kind of badge of honor, I’m all ears.”
Hank remained stone-faced and silent.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she said, and turned on her heel and escaped through the back gate.
Chapter Five
The Bell County Sheriff’s office wasn’t big enough to hold Agent Jakes’s body or Dr. Lawrence’s enormous ego. He wasn’t sure why Coil had called him into the office, but the meeting was keeping him from thinking about Agatha.
Hank scanned Coil’s office and took in the presence of Jakes and Lawrence, but he didn’t acknowledge them. He shook Coil’s hand and said, “What’s going on?”
Hank and Jakes might have gone back a way, but the way he’d been dismissed from the crime scene was a complete disregard for professional courtesy.
“Thanks for coming, Hank,” Coil said. From what I understand, you already know Special Agent Sam Jakes?”
“I do,” Hank said.
“And this is Dr. Andrew Lawrence,” Coil went on.
Hank tamped down the urge to strangle the man and extended his hand instead. “Nice to meet you.”
“So, you’re the famous Hammerin Hank,” Lawrence said, awe lacing his proper British voice. “I’ve read so many of your briefs that I feel I already know you. You were quite an asset to the FBI.”
“Thank you.” Hank said. He could see the amusement on Coil’s face, and he was glad at least one of them was getting a kick out of this encounter. And if he had to guess, Coil probably knew exactly who this Lawrence guy was to Agatha. Coil and Agatha had grown up in the same town. They had memories that Hank would never be a part of.
Lawrence was a slender man, and several inches shorter than Hank. He was well dressed in a suit more expensive than Hank would’ve ever considered wasting his money on, and his shoes were shined so they looked like mirrors.
Coil cleared his throat and looked at Hank. If Hank wasn’t mistaken, it was embarrassment on Coil’s face. “Is your fiancé going to join us?” Coil asked.
Hank kept his face passive and didn’t let his surprise show. “I’m not sure. Agatha said her plate was pretty full today.”
“Agatha?” Lawrence asked, jumping on the name.
Hank and Coil exchanged glances.
“Yes,” Hank said. “Agatha Harley.”
“The author?”
“Yes, you’ve heard of her?”
Lawrence’s already sallow complexion paled even more.
“And she’s your fiancé?” he asked.
“Last time I checked,” Hank said, finding a smile for the first time. The smile must not have been very reassuring because Lawrence took a step back. “You know her?”
“Hmm,” Lawrence said, and then dropped his gaze.
Hank looked back at Coil. In all honesty, he just wanted to go back home. He didn’t care about the graves, the FBI, or the fact that he was only in the office because someone probably wanted something from him.
“So, what’s going on since I was dismissed from the crime scene?” Hank asked. “I assume that’s why I’m here?”
“It seems like the FBI would appreciate your assistance,” Coil said.
“I’m not sure that’s an option, Sheriff,” Hank said. “You see, Mr. Jakes over there made no bones about it. I was not to set foot on his crime scene.”
Jakes looked away, but in the tiny office, there wasn’t much space for even wandering glares.
“Well, it seems that the FBI has changed its position on getting local assistance,” Coil said. “And, as a duly commissioned representative of my office, I am requesting your assistance in granting them the local guidance they so desperately need.”
“In other words, they can’t find their butts with both hands because no one will give them the time of day except for Dot Williams. Am I right?”
“That pretty much sums it up.” Coil’s smile was sharp.
“Can I get back to you on that request?” Hank said. “I left Agatha in a hurry. She was upset about a run-in she had over at the Taco and Waffle.”
“Oh, that would be me,” Lawrence said, much too cheerfully for Hank’s taste.
“Yeah, I had a feeling,” Hank said with a snarl. “Catch you later.”
“Wait a second, Hank,” Jakes called out. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Can I talk to you?” Jakes asked, unfolding long legs and coming to a standing position. “Outside?”
“Sure,” Hank said. “I’m heading that direction anyway.”
Hank stepped out of the sheriff’s office and breathed in the fresh air, and then turned so his back was to the sun. Jakes followed him through the door and they squared off, but Jakes took the full brunt of the bright sun to his face. He shielded his eyes with his hand, but Hank didn’t move.
“Look,” Jakes said. “We go way back. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I was a little surprised to see you out there. I guess when it came down to it, my concern was that I’d have to compete with you for authority.”
“I like you, Sam,” Hank said. “And we do go back a long way. I’ve never blamed you for Tammy’s death, but you weren’t there when the team needed you the most. Even after all this time, knowing the kind of cop I am, worrying about who’s in charge is your top priority? And now you need me because the people in this town won’t talk to an outsider, even if you do have a fancy badge.”
“I didn’t say I was right,” Jakes said. “And I’ve apologized a thousand times for the night Tammy died. I accepted my transfer out of violent crimes and into the boring world of white-collar crime. But I can’t keep beating myself up over what happened to your wife. We’ve both got to move forward at some
point.”
Hank’s heart remained heavy. The reality that Hank wasn’t the only person who still carried pain over the loss of his wife made the burden seem not so unbearable. Maybe that was what was on his mind when he’d argued with Agatha. Seeing Jakes and then being dismissed like a child hurt more personally than it did professionally. But in the end, Hank was a cop’s cop, and there was a crime to solve.
“You’re right, Sam,” Hank said. “But it’s still no reason for the way you treated me this morning. I’ll help because Sheriff Coil asked me to, and because this is my hometown. It has zero to do with you, the Bureau, or that snob you brought along.”
Jakes held up his hands. “Fair enough. And for the record, I didn’t bring the snob. He was already in the Dallas Field Office when the call came in. One of the group supervisors wanted to get rid of him, so they shoved him off on me. He doesn’t belong to the FBI, but he’s in very good with the Deputy Director and several other key players.”
“And he’s the best,” Hank said.
Jakes sighed. “And that too. Apparently, he’s taking a sabbatical for several weeks and decided to grace us with his presence while he does research.”
“Convenient,” Hank said.
Jakes held out his hand to Hank. “Are we good?” he asked.
Hank waited a beat before he accepted the offered hand. “Yeah, we’re good.”
Chapter Six
Agatha stared out the side window of Hank’s BMW. He’d stopped by the house and explained that Jakes had asked them to come back on in a consultant capacity, and he’d also told her that Lawrence had chosen the area to take his sabbatical. Between that and the fact that Hank was acting like their argument had never happened, she was reluctant to go back to the cemetery with him. She also wasn’t too keen on facing Jakes again either after their earlier interaction, but she was willing to put it behind her for the sake of solving a good mystery.
It was mid-afternoon, but Coil had ordered bright mobile light stands on scene for when dusk began to fall. The place had been guarded like King Tut’s tomb all day long, and there was a definite hostility in the air between the local cops and the Feds.
“Are you sure it’s okay to be here, or will you throw us out again?” Agatha asked Jakes good-naturedly.
Jakes grinned and held out his hand to shake hers. “I do apologize, ma’am,” Jakes said. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
She saw Lawrence come up behind Jakes, and she felt her smile go stiff. Lord, she had no idea why she’d ever been engaged to the man, much less why she even dated him. She’d been lonely was her best guess, and she’d been getting to that age where she’d been thinking of marriage and children. And he was brilliant in his field. But he’d bored her to death. He’d also annoyed her endlessly. Needless to say, their engagement had been very short.”
“Hello, Agatha,” Lawrence said. “It’s lovely to see you again. You can imagine how surprised I was to see you in the restaurant today.”
“Yes,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Very surprising.”
“I apologize if I alarmed you.”
“You didn’t,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Special Agent Jakes requested my assistance on this investigation,” he said, shrugging. So here I am. I assure you; it was completely coincidental.”
“Hmm,” she said, but she felt herself relax some. It was a specialized field, and these skeletal remains were definitely unusual. It would make sense they’d want someone with his skill.”
Lawrence looked at her slyly—a completely British look that only someone with his level of snobbery could pull off. “Oh, by the by,” he said. “Congratulations are in order for your engagement. I had the chance to meet your Mr. Davidson. Of course, I’ve spent years reading his case files. He’s quite brilliant.”
“Yes, he is,” she said, and left it at that.
“Okay, team,” Coil said, calling everyone together. “We’re going to be cooperating with the FBI and the state’s historic preservation society to make sure that we not only solve this crime, but that we protect our great history and heroes.”
Agatha barely kept from rolling her eyes. Coil was laying it on thick for the outsiders and the media. It was all part of the political game. Fortunately, it was Coil up there and not her. Diplomacy wasn’t a virtue she possessed.
She moved closer to Hank and spoke in a low voice so only he could hear. “What’s your take on this?”
“Too soon to tell,” he said. “But I’m very interested in the biker Deputy Springer saw in the area.”
“You think the Rattlers are still looking to get back at you?” she asked.
“Sure, but I don’t think it’s connected to this. It’s just something to tuck away for later.”
“I’m going to hand this over to Agent Jakes,” Coil said.
“Thank you, Sheriff,” Jakes said. “We’re all here to do the job. The most important thing is that we find who did this and recover what was taken from these historic graves. So put your egos behind you and get the job done. The CSI team has finished processing the immediate area around the graves for footprints or other evidence, so you’re clear to move within the perimeter. Sheriff Coil and I are both here for questions if you have any.”
“That’s our cue,” Hank said.
“For what?” Agatha asked.
“To get answers to a few questions that have been rattling in my brain since this morning.”
“You too?” she asked.
“Yes,” Hank said, looking at her oddly. “But I’m interested to hear what’s been on yours.”
Agatha took a deep breath and put her hands on her hips. “I always thought these gravesites were memorials to the heroes who fought and died at the Alamo,” Agatha said. “It’s not until today that I realized they’re actual graves with the real soldiers buried in them.”
“Why’s that a problem?” Hank asked, staring at the remains in one of the caskets.
“Because it says on the headstones that these men fought and died at the Alamo.”
“I’m still not seeing why this is a problem,” Hank said.
“Because it’s well documented in history that General Santa Anna’s army of four thousand slaughtered the one hundred and eighty rebels fighting for Texan independence. And after the dust settled, Santa Anna’s men piled all of the bodies up and burned them in three funeral pyres. It burned for days, and there are no records of any bodies being returned to their families, much less five of them,” she said, pointing to the line of graves.
“Yeah, that’s definitely a red flag,” Hank said. “There’s something else suspicious. Have you noticed?”
“You’re quite right, Detective Davidson,” Lawrence said, coming up behind them.
Agatha gasped in surprise, but Hank just gave Lawrence a look to let him know he was definitely intruding.
“I’m sure you’ve both noticed by now that the skeletal remains in both coffins are female.”
Lawrence’s voice hadn’t been soft when he made the announcement, and a group gathered around to hear what he had to say.
“Yes,” Agatha said, annoyed on Hank’s behalf. “Hank was just explaining that to me when you walked up, Bacon.”
“Who’s Bacon?” Coil asked.
“Oh,” Agatha said. “I meant Dr. Lawrence.”
Andrew turned pink and cleared his throat. “Just a silly nickname,” he said.
“How’d you know it was female?” Coil asked Hank.
“It’s hard to tell actually,” Hank said, “But males are generally larger, and their bones are thicker with sharp corners. That in itself doesn’t exclude females, but what really sets them apart…”
“Is the pelvis,” Lawrence interrupted, putting his hands at his hips and rotating his pelvis.
“Good grief,” Agatha said.
“Nice form, Doc,” Coil said. “I bet you do a real good Macarena.”
“Beg pardon?” Lawrence asked.
“The female’s body is built for childbirth. Her pelvic bones are shorter and more rounded, and the tailbone is more flexible to accommodate gestation and child delivery.”
“Are you saying my hips are wide?” Agatha asked, raising a brow.
“Your hips are perfect,” Hank said.
“I was just thinking that myself,” Lawrence said. “You’ve quite lovely hips. They have an excellent rhythm.”
“Shut up, Lawrence,” Coil said. “You’re standing in front of an open grave. It’d be really easy for Hank to shove you in one.”
“Oh, well,” Lawrence said, pursing his lips.
“Rally up everyone,” Jakes called out. He jumped up on the hood of a cruiser so he could get everyone’s attention. “It looks like this has taken an unexpected twist. I’ve just been informed that Dr. Lawrence will escort both skeletal remains to Austin where he’ll be able to examine them in a lab. Preliminarily though, it looks like both remains are female, and are not, in fact the bodies of Major Nathan Hills or Lieutenant Wayne Brush. Because of this fact, this is no longer being treated as an historical preservation site.”
“Austin, sir?” Lawrence asked. “Why do I need to go to Austin? Isn’t there somewhere suitable I can work in the area? I’d like to stay close to the scene…” He snuck a look at Agatha that Hank didn’t miss. “Just in case.”
“Get to work Lawrence,” Jakes said. “I want to know who these women are, and if they were put there in place of remains that were stolen. And I wanted answers yesterday.”
Chapter Seven
Wednesday
They’d worked past midnight before breaking, and they were all back at it the following morning, only this time they were briefing in the sheriff’s office before heading out to the site. Jakes had ditched the suit and tie for tan BDUs and a navy polo emblazoned with FBI over the breast pocket.
Gone With The Sin (Book 8) (A Harley and Davidson Mystery) Page 3
