A Grave Calling

by Wendy Roberts

  Hell, I wanted someone to do the same for me.

  Regardless of his obvious misgivings about the situation, I was still the one who’d be traipsing in that goopy mud for who knew how long. I just wanted to get it started and get it done. If there was a body buried beneath that mire, I’d find it. Then we’d both be on our way.

  A glance at the sky showed thick cumulus clouds gathered in obsidian clusters. As much as I hoped the rain would hold off, I doubted I’d get my wish. I pulled off my cotton hoodie and replaced it with a nylon rain jacket. Last, I grabbed my dowsing rods.

  The rods had been shiny brass at one stage but now they were colored with a dark patina. They were L-shaped and a foot long, then bent into a five-inch area to grip at the short end of the L. The minute I wrapped my fingers on the rods Agent Pierce’s eyes were on me with a fierce focus that caused me to bite my lower lip. If he thought I’d wave the rods around and conjure up a body, he was in for a disappointing day. It was rarely so easy. When I met his gaze, it took a lot not to snap something mean and biting his way, but I turned and stomped into the field instead.

  Arms out straight with only the slightest and lightest grasp of the rods, I began my walk. I tried not to think of the fact that a sixteen-year-old girl could be rotting beneath my feet. If she was here, I’d send her home. Her folks could hold a funeral and start the grieving. I didn’t think about her though; instead, as I took slow, even steps, I imagined myself walking a beach, maybe Hawaii or Mexico, where the sand was soft and the sun kissed freckles across my nose. When the rain started I told myself it was the spray off the sea but the icy wind dampened my tropical fantasy. After fifteen minutes or so I’d walked to the end of the first row, then I turned and walked back down the next.

  Agent Pierce’s hard stare followed me and hardly faltered except when he occasionally got on his phone. I imagined him talking to his wife, or ex. Had he removed that ring from his finger willingly and with relief? I thought about those dark, worried eyes and thought no. He’d been in it for the long haul but she’d been tired of waiting around for him to come home at night while he was out chasing villains. He was all caught up in the act of being a hero. By the time I had rounded the third row I’d built an entire life around Garrett Pierce of the FBI. It wasn’t as good as dreaming of a scorching beach but it was at least a distraction from the job at hand. I imagined him an orphan propelled into the life of an FBI agent in order to seek out revenge on whoever had murdered his parents. Probably too far-fetched. People were rarely that easy to figure out and maybe I’d watched too many made-for-TV movies but my imagination did kill time.

  My legs grew weary of fighting the muck, and my arms were exhausted from holding up the rods. Even my head was tired of inventing scenarios around Agent Pierce or tropical getaways involving oiled-up cabana boys. I wanted to be home in my trailer under a pile of warm blankets and eating a grilled cheese sandwich. My stomach growled angrily at the thought.

  It felt like I’d been out in the fields for hours and it may have been because Agent Pierce was a faded blur in the distance now. Another car had pulled up behind his, and two people joined him. My brain was tired but I attempted to build up a scenario about the two who stood next to Pierce. A man and a woman. A couple of coworkers here to berate him for hiring a water witch to find bodies? Nah. Nothing exciting about that. Maybe his ex and her lover? Come to confront him and demand the divorce he refused to grant?

  I stopped for a second when one boot got sucked so tightly in the goop it took both my hands to yank it free. In the moment I wasn’t moving I felt three pairs of eyes on me and three collectively held breaths. They were briefly hopeful. But it was going to be a disappointment. I could sense it as I rounded the final row. Would you hoist the dead weight of a young woman this far off the road and start digging her grave? It felt unlikely and wrong. I’d reached the end of the row and the dismay was heavy on my heart. Still, I worked the ditch and the area near the dilapidated barn, just to be sure. It was a half-hearted attempt at best. There wasn’t a body here.

  I walked through the ditch and held my head high as I approached Pierce. The couple who’d arrived earlier stood off to the side a few feet over. Maybe they really were coworkers ticked off that he’d hired a dowser. They certainly looked pissed about something. It sure as hell wasn’t my fault the killer had given him the wrong information. My shoulders slumped. It might not be my error but I still felt horrible that the trip had been a bust, and the worst of it was that I knew he’d expected me to fail.

  I straightened a little as I came up beside Agent Pierce.

  “Sorry,” I said, my words breathless with exhaustion.

  He opened his mouth to say something in reply but suddenly the woman stormed up and screamed in my face.

  “Stupid bitch! You’re just as sick as that psycho killer!” she shrieked. “How dare you take advantage of our grief like this!”

  Her hand came up and slapped me so hard across the face my ears rang and my vision momentarily blurred. Immediately Pierce and the other man restrained her but it was unnecessary. As quickly as it had exploded out of her, all fight was gone and she crumpled within herself. She sobbed and cried in big gulps and gasps and babbled incoherently as they took her away and buckled her into the passenger seat of their car. I shuffled off in the opposite direction toward Pierce’s car. I climbed in, not bothering to remove my mud-caked boots or even put the rods back in my bag. My hand went to my blistering cheek. The imprint was raised and angry. It stung like I’d been scalded. I started to shake and couldn’t stop. When Agent Pierce climbed into the driver’s seat, I turned away so he couldn’t see the hurt in my eyes.

  “That shouldn’t have happened,” he said. “She wasn’t to know about this or where we were. I’m sorry about that.”

  “She’s one of the moms?” I tried to keep the quiver from my voice and failed miserably.

  “Yes.”

  “Well then.” I cleared my throat and buckled my seat belt with trembling, frozen hands. “I guess she’s entitled. I’d probably do the exact same thing.” My body felt like it was covered in ice. “Could you crank the heat?”

  He did and turned on the seat warmer that made me feel like at least my ass was defrosted as he steered the car back the way we’d come. My throat was parched and my belly churned the acid around, making me feel nauseated. I wanted food but Pierce had gone just as long without eating and if he was going to be all hard-ass then I was too. Besides, I could ask him to stop so I could get something to eat but now my need to get away from him was greater than my desire for food. The rods lay on my lap and I rested my hand lightly on top when we cornered onto the main road. He accelerated as if he wanted to put an end to the afternoon as much as I did. We were now a quarter mile from the highway, speeding past a clutch of small houses close to the road. He slowed a little as we crossed a pothole-riddled bridge that covered a creek.

  Then it happened.

  The rods twitched sharply to the right.

  “Stop the car!” I screamed.

  Agent Pierce two-footed the brake and veered to the shoulder.

  “You scared the shit out of me! Are you sick?”

  But I didn’t reply because I was already out of the vehicle, rods in my hands and arms extended. I made my way back a few yards to where the rods had reacted. The straight rods crossed over each other to make an X once I reached the bridge. When I continued on, they uncrossed again. I left the road and made my way down the embankment. Pierce ran to catch up and I could hear him breathing behind me. My feet slid the last few feet down the bank, the mud on my boots made them like grease on the wet grass. I stumbled and fell on my ass.

  “Shit.” I felt the sopping damp as it soaked through my jeans.

  Agent Pierce held his hand out to help me up but I ignored it and was on my way, focused on the tremble in the rods. They leaned right and I follow
ed until I was almost beneath the dark underside of the bridge. The rods vibrated in my hands as they formed a near perfect X.

  I did not want to look beneath the bridge. Still, I did.

  There’d been no attempt to bury the little brunette whose naked form was twisted and broken. She had a wide white satin ribbon tied in a neat bow around her forearm like a demented wrist corsage. The swarming flies had probably feasted on her for days.

  Chapter Two

  The business side of death always took longer than expected. There was no quick procedure to scoop her up and put her in the wagon and haul her to the morgue. The uniformed scavengers had to arrive to search every blade of nearby grass for evidence. My stomach had stopped begging for food again but my mouth was cotton and my lips were cracked. I could do nothing but wait so I sat in the car while Agent Pierce directed the half-dozen people who showed up. It would be hours before that poor brunette would be moved from under the bridge.

  At one point I got a text from Katie. She was itching to go out and party at the casino. I replied curtly that I couldn’t go tonight. She sent me a frowning emoji in reply.

  I took the time to put my running shoes and hoodie back on, then settled back into the passenger seat. I fell asleep after a few minutes. It was a stress crash and not because I felt finding a body was so relaxing I thought I’d snooze. When the driver’s door opened I sat up quickly with a sharp intake of breath.

  “Sorry that took so long. I’ll drive you back now.”

  Twenty minutes down the highway he hooked his thumb toward a billboard advertising a diner at the next stop.

  “I haven’t eaten today. You?”

  I shook my head.

  “I think we’ve earned a bite.”

  There wasn’t time to protest because he was on the exit ramp immediately, and a minute later we were walking inside the restaurant. It wasn’t that busy and we slid into an orange vinyl booth far from the entrance. I looked out the window at the steady rain pelting the asphalt parking lot so hard the drops bounced a foot off the pavement. I wondered if the girl we found had died quick or if he’d dragged it out until she begged for death in the end. My hands shook and I closed my eyes against the vision of all those flies.

  “What’s the white ribbon for?” I asked.

  Pierce had been staring long and hard at his phone and my question caused him to look up, startled as if he’d forgotten I was there. The waitress showed up then and brought us water and coffee and when I finished both within a minute she brought more. I ordered a grilled cheese and fries and he asked for a BLT with salad.

  “Geez, I feel bad.” He pointed at my glass of water, which was empty again. “I should’ve at least given you bottled water.”

  “I’m a big girl. I should’ve guessed this would go on for the entire afternoon. I usually plan things better and bring a snack and a bottle with me.” My hands were still chilled and I wrapped them around the coffee mug.

  “That’s what you usually do, is it?” He shook his head slowly. “This is normal for you? A regular thing?”

  I didn’t reply. A woman a couple tables over had a glass of wine in front of her. My gaze followed her hand as it wrapped around the stem and lifted the glass to her lips. She took a large sip and swallowed. I licked my lips and forced my focus back to my own hands gripped tightly around my cup of coffee.

  Our food arrived and I devoured everything on my plate. He ate slowly, methodically and mostly watched me.

  “I don’t know why,” Agent Pierce said.

  It took me a while to figure out he was answering my question about the white ribbon.

  “His modus operandi...his signature.” He blew out a long breath. “There were white ribbons left at the scene where the girls were taken.” He pointed a finger at me. “That is not for public knowledge.”

  Mister Serious looked like he’d crawl across the table and put me over his knee and give me a swift spanking if he thought I might reveal anything to the public. I was shocked when that brief vision appealed to me and got me a little hot and bothered. I needed a cold shower or large drink.

  Pierce drank his coffee.

  “There probably isn’t an answer that would make any sense to us. The profilers...” He chuckled but it was a sarcastic, chilling sound. “They’ll have a field day over that fucking ribbon.”

  His hands balled into tight fists for a few seconds. The waitress returned and refilled our coffees and waters.

  “You’re a thirsty bunch,” she remarked.

  Neither of us looked up or acknowledged her comment.

  “So you get a lot of this kind of...work?” he asked.

  “Well, it’s not a weekly thing. That’s for sure.”

  I drank this glass of water slowly. Briefly I imagined it was a fruity white wine and I felt a grappling need in my gut that I slammed down, then doused it by replacing the water with a sip of strong coffee.

  “When people ask, I just feel bad saying no. Sometimes I have to, though. Like when that hiker went missing on Mount Baker. I don’t like heights.” I shrugged. “Besides, I knew they’d find him when the snow melted.”

  “How many?” he asked.

  I sat on the question a minute before answering. “I haven’t kept count. Maybe a dozen.”

  “A dozen?” His eyes were huge. “Holy shit.” He drilled his hand through his hair. “All in your small community?”

  “Well, no. Word gets around.”

  The waitress took my plate and asked if I wanted dessert. I declined.

  “And who hires you? Law enforcement?”

  “A couple times,” I admitted. “And some of the Native American tribes asked me over to confirm burial places.” I smiled at his incredulous face. “It’s not like people are just dropping dead all over Washington State. I’m not making a killing here. No pun intended.”

  Agent Pierce laughed then. It was a low and throaty sound that made me feel warm inside. He didn’t look like he laughed much. If ever. A guy his age who’d been at this job awhile. He probably saw a lot of shit. I thought of my own life and knew that horror had no real age.

  After we ate I told him I was going to the washroom. He left a few bills on the table and said he’d meet me outside. When I stepped out of the restaurant, he was coming out of a bank next door, counting out bills. He met me at the car and once we were seated he handed me the money.

  “Thanks.”

  I folded the bills and stuffed them into the pocket of my hoodie without counting. He hadn’t bothered to get my payment in advance because he hadn’t believed I would do it. Part of me felt triumphant that I proved him wrong. That part was tamped down by the remorse for the poor brunette under the bridge and her mother who’d slapped me on the edge of the field.

  When we reached the fill-up station he pulled his car alongside my Jeep. I unbuckled my seat belt and went to leave but he reached over and put a heavy hand on my leg. I froze.

  “If I can get him to give me the location of the other two, would you help?”

  It was painful to look at his face, all hard edges but with tired, beseeching eyes. I looked down at his hand on my leg willing him to move it before this got weird. Weirder.

  “He didn’t give you the whereabouts of this one either,” I reminded him gently.

  He removed his hand from my leg and I climbed hastily out of the car, hauled my bag from the back seat and jumped into my Jeep. I started it up but didn’t put it in gear. I pretended to be playing with the radio; my shaky fingers turned dials while I waited until Agent Pierce drove out of the parking lot. Then I cranked the heat and took a moment to settle the tremor in my bones. Something about the way he’d asked, his hand hot and heavy on my thigh and the pleading in his eyes, made me uneasy.

  The rain clouds had tumbled east on a blustery wind that cau
sed my Jeep to shimmy on the highway. Gramps was in front of the TV watching the tail end of the news when I showed up, and Wookie was on the couch beside him. It was nearly seven.

  “Can I fix you some dinner?”

  “Nah, I made a sandwich.”

  I nonchalantly checked the sink. There was a small plate there with a few crumbs.

  Wookie hopped off the sofa and stretched slowly. I paused to scratch the top of his head in greeting.

  “Guess what? Katie’s back.”

  Gramps glanced over at me and only nodded. He didn’t like Katie. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. He liked her well and good enough but just didn’t like her hanging with me.

  That girl is trouble with a capital T that also stands for tramp.

  That’s what Grandma always said, but then there weren’t many people that Grandma liked. Me included. Gramps was kinder about Katie and just reminded me to choose my friends wisely.

  “So you and Katie going out then?” Gramps asked.

  “Not tonight. I’m tired.”

  Gramps’s shoulders visibly relaxed. I sat on the arm of the sofa and kissed the top of his bare head. He gently patted my thigh in the exact same place Pierce had placed a hot hand.

  “So, you found her then?” he asked. “One of the three?”

  “Yeah.”

  My throat was suddenly clogged with emotion. Gramps took my small hand in his thick calloused one and gave it a quick squeeze before returning it to rest on top of the TV remote.

  “It’s not your job, you know,” he said softly. “Just because you can do it, doesn’t mean you have to.”

  “I know. I know.” I got to my feet, not wanting to have this conversation because it made my own thoughts on the subject slippery. “C’mon, Wook.”

  When I slid my feet into my shoes, Gramps called, “Oh yeah, Denny was at your place earlier. He stopped in here to ask where you were.”