Foolish Undertaking: A Buryin' Barry Mystery (Buryin' Barry Series Book 3)

by Mark de Castrique

  “But for who? And who had both motive and opportunity? Kevin and I want to keep the discovery a secret so as not to spook the killer. If he learns the remains have been discovered, he might make a run for it.”

  “And there’s a chance the medical examiner’s office could leak the information,” Tommy Lee conceded.

  “I planned on taking the remains to Susan for a first look. She’s not a forensic examiner, but her knowledge of anatomy’s better than yours or mine. Then—”

  Tommy Lee cut me off. “Then we don’t have time to talk. Get going.” He hung up.

  I lowered the phone.

  “What happened?” Melissa asked. “Did you lose the signal?”

  “No. I got the signal. A green light to proceed.”

  Melissa turned in her seat to face me. “Shouldn’t you call Susan?”

  “It’s after lunch. She’ll be at the clinic.”

  “Do you really think I should go with you?”

  Her question surprised me. Melissa’s journalistic zeal had never been restrained before. “Why not?”

  “I could check some things at the paper. Background on James Raven.” The blush in her cheeks said there was more to the story.

  “I want to get these remains to Susan right away. We’re going to drive past the clinic on the way to the funeral home.”

  Melissa looked away from me. “She won’t have to bring anybody else in on this, will she?”

  “I’m not asking her for any tests, just an educated opinion. I’ll stress the confidentiality.”

  Melissa’s cheek muscles tensed, but she said nothing.

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you trust her?”

  She snapped her head around and gave me a piercing stare. “What matters is that you trust her.”

  I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. “I know things have seemed strained. She’s just worried about me. I haven’t been a good patient since I took that blow on the head. That’s all.”

  Melissa’s fingers fidgeted with her seatbelt. Then she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Let me just say this, and then we’ll drop the subject. This is a big story, maybe the biggest I’ve ever worked on. We don’t know what kind of dynamite we’re toying with. There could even be some cover-up that involves Millen and Weathers. Confidentiality is all we’ve got right now. This Dr. Chandler who came with Susan to the party last night, you said he’d examined Y’Grok so he knows something’s up.”

  “Just that the tattoos were recent.”

  “Stress to Susan not to mention anything about the remains to him.”

  “Okay, but why do you think she would?”

  Again, Melissa hesitated, and then plunged ahead. “Barry, I don’t know how to say this any other way. Tuesday morning, before we met in the park and you told me about Y’Grok Eban, I went to the clinic for a routine physical. When I walked back to my car, I saw Susan and Chandler across the parking lot. They didn’t see me. She gave him a hug and a kiss. I don’t know what that means, but it certainly wasn’t a handshake.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I turned into the clinic’s parking lot and saw Susan’s Subaru in her usual spot. Melissa and I had ridden the last five miles without speaking, the swish of wiper blades and steady pounding of rain filling the silence. I knew there had to be an explanation for the scene Melissa had witnessed, but at the moment I couldn’t create one that I believed, let alone try to sell to a skeptical reporter.

  Melissa unsnapped her seatbelt. “There’s her car. You think she’ll interrupt her patient schedule?”

  I raised my bleeding left hand. “I’m a patient. I hope to jump to the head of the line.”

  Melissa held an umbrella over us as I carried the ammo case from the jeep to the clinic’s door. I recognized the steel-haired woman at the appointment desk, guarding the passage to a half-filled waiting room.

  “Good afternoon, Natalie.”

  Natalie Golden looked up from her computer screen. “Barry. Did you fall off the ark?” Then she noticed my hand. Her smile faded as she looked from me to Melissa. “This isn’t a social call, is it?”

  “Can you let Susan know I’m here?”

  “Yes. But she’s in an examination room and has two appointments waiting.” Natalie scowled at her computer as if demanding the screen to delete the other patients. Then she winked at me. “Okay. Go back to her office. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  I knew my way around the clinic enough to lead Melissa across the waiting area and down a side hall that bypassed the examination rooms. Susan rated a corner office large enough to accommodate a sofa and chairs for patient consultations. I set the ammo case on the floor, but remained standing, reluctant to perch my soaked butt on her furniture.

  Melissa tucked her damaged blouse in as best she could and leaned against the desk, careful not to drip on the paperwork. “What do you think she’ll say?”

  “Not much. Susan has a temper when she thinks I’ve done something really stupid.”

  “If nearly drowning doesn’t qualify as stupid, what does?”

  “That’s what I mean. She’ll be angry, but she won’t explode with you here.”

  “Don’t be so sure. I might be the fuse.” Melissa walked to the window and stared at the rain pelting the parking lot.

  Susan’s office had the feel of a cozy den rather than a medical clinic. No diplomas hung on the wall; no skeletal models to remind the patients what parts needed repair or replacement. Instead, framed mountain photographs, many by the celebrated Hugh Morton, lent an air of tranquility to what at times could be a space of bad news and worse options. A box of Beanie Babies offered distraction for kids, and the magazines on the end tables covered upbeat, positive topics from kayaking to crocheting. A few personal mementos complemented the décor. Susan’s collection of ceramic frogs had spilled over into her office. Poised leapers and squatters adorned the shelves. Three family pictures in small gold frames sat on her desk: individual portraits of her father, her deceased mother, and a sixth-grade school photo of her brother Stevie. Twelve-year-old Stevie had been killed by a drunk driver while teaching his younger sister to ride a bicycle. I knew the tragedy haunted Susan and had been the major reason she’d pursued a career in medicine.

  The only other personal photograph stood on the credenza behind her desk. I’d shot the picture with a timer so that Susan and I could pose together in front of Looking Glass Falls in Pisgah National Forest. We both beamed in one of those rare instants when eyes are open and expressions are natural. Beside the pewter-framed tribute to our relationship sat a warty, porcelain bullfrog on a lily pad. Was I in danger of undoing the fairy tale?

  “Natalie said you were hurt.” Susan walked in and set her clipboard on the desk. “What happened?” She looked from me to Melissa as if the reporter was more likely to give the straight answer.

  I bent down and picked up the ammo case. “We found Y’Grok’s secret. He’d hidden this case in the waterwheel at the mill. Seeing the tattoos again helped me break his code.”

  “You found his body?”

  I’d forgotten Susan knew nothing of Y’Grok’s return. “Someone returned the body during the night, right back to the embalming table.”

  Now Susan showed genuine concern. “Your parents?”

  “They’re okay. I figure the thunderstorm covered the noise of the break-in.”

  “Have you told Y’Suom?”

  If Susan had been in surgery since early morning, she hadn’t heard. “Y’Suom was murdered last night at the party. I discovered his body about the time you left with Chandler.” Chandler’s name tasted sour in my mouth.

  Susan’s face paled. Again, she looked at Melissa for confirmation.

  “Y’Suom’s murder must be all over the radio and TV,” Melissa said.

  “I didn’t get out of surgery till thirty minutes ago and had to rush here. Was he shot?”

  “No,” I said. “The killer knocked him unconscious with a brick and then strangle
d him. Used Y’Suom’s own belt. Probably took only a few minutes. I found him in the atrium.”

  “Oh, good God.” Susan sat on the edge of her desk. “Who would do such a thing?”

  “We don’t know.” I raised the case higher. “But his death must involve this.”

  Her eyes moved from the case to my hand. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Not that bad. Looks worse than it is. Melissa and I fell into the stream trying to get this before the current swept it away. I got a palm full of splinters for my trouble.”

  “I’ll get my nurse to tend you. So, you found the money?”

  “Some. But Kevin Malone says there should be much more. We need your help, Susan. Y’Grok smuggled the partial remains of a U.S. serviceman out of Vietnam. His name was Raven and his bones are in here.”

  Susan stared at the ammo case, speechless. In less than a minute, I’d dropped three bombshells: Y’Grok’s body, Y’Suom’s murder, and Raven’s return. I’d have been speechless too.

  I pressed on. “There has to be a reason Y’Grok wanted Kevin Malone to have them. Other channels could have accomplished the task of getting the remains back to the United States without all this secrecy.”

  “Why are you bringing them to me?”

  “Because the killer doesn’t know we’ve found them. And we don’t want him to know until we have a better idea what’s going on.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not a forensics expert.”

  “We know. But you work cheap and you can keep a secret.” I wondered just how many secrets she was keeping.

  “And Tommy Lee?”

  “He knows and he agrees.”

  She pursed her lips, stood up from the desk, and stepped back from me. “What am I supposed to be looking for?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Ray Chandler had some forensic experience in med school.”

  My words came harsh and sudden. “No way that hotdog gets near this.”

  Susan flushed. “I thought you wanted answers.”

  Melissa interrupted in an effort to keep me from sabotaging the whole deal. “I’m sitting on this story, Susan. My job’s at stake if someone else scoops me and I’ve withheld information from the paper. I’m willing to do that because I trust Barry. I hope you do too. If anyone else becomes involved, I’m yelling stop the presses.”

  Susan clenched her teeth. “I don’t need a lecture about trust. Not from you.”

  This was going nicely. I decided the truth should be stretched to preserve the peace. “But Tommy Lee requested you. At least conduct the first unofficial exam. Then we can bring the sheriff in for any decision on who else should be involved.”

  Susan didn’t have an argument with Tommy Lee. She sighed. “Okay. Take the case to 3B, first room on the right. I’ll get through my appointments as quickly as I can, and I’ll send in Loretta to look at your hand.” She turned to Melissa. “Are you injured?”

  “Just my pride.”

  “Didn’t know you had any.” With that barb hanging in the air, Susan left the office.

  “So, she doesn’t talk much when she’s angry,” Melissa said.

  “Must be the weather.”

  At ten minutes after two, I was sitting on the edge of the examination table with my left hand coated with ointment and wrapped in gauze. Nurse Loretta had also applied fresh antiseptic and a bandage to my forehead stitches and given me a lecture on the importance of following the doctor’s orders. She’d been well coached.

  Melissa had bummed a legal pad from Natalie and sat in the one metal chair, jotting down the details from our morning adventure. Forty minutes had passed since the confrontation in Susan’s office. I was worn out and talked out.

  There was a knock at the door and Susan entered. “I’ve got about thirty minutes.”

  Melissa stood up. I hopped off the table and set the case on the damp spot left by my pants. Neither of us spoke. I flipped up the clamps and lifted out the sack. Then Melissa and I stepped clear to give Susan room.

  Susan pulled a magnifying glass from her lab coat. “At least I thought I’d look the part of Sherlock Holmes.”

  Her smile eased the tension a little. She pulled latex gloves from a box on the wall and tugged the cuffs over her wrists.

  “Is it all right if we stay?” Melissa asked.

  “Fine by me.” Susan held the magnifying glass over the dog tag. “At least we’ve got a blood group listed. A-positive. At some point, tests should be run to determine a DNA match, if there’s a family to match the bones with.”

  “I was told he had a son,” I said.

  “That should be enough.” Susan untangled the chain and removed it from the neck of the bag.

  “What’s no pref mean?” Melissa asked.

  “No preference,” I said. “Religion. But skeletons don’t display religious affiliations so that won’t help.”

  “No skeletons I’ve met,” Susan agreed. “The TV cop shows would have you believe they can determine if he was Catholic and how many times he knelt at mass.” She spread the bag open. “Even without a skull, maybe there’s a mandible.”

  Melissa looked to me for help. “I flunked biology.”

  “Lower jaw. For dental records.”

  “Did you see one?” Susan asked.

  “I only looked at a few pieces to determine if they were human.”

  Susan carefully began to extract fragments. “Certainly has taken a lot of punishment.”

  Melissa jotted on her legal pad. “Before he died?”

  “No. If Y’Grok lugged this case around, the jostling and pounding would have knocked the bones against the metal walls with sufficient force to destroy the fragile calcified cartilage that holds a skeleton together. Ah, here’s an ulna.”

  “The smaller bone in the forearm,” I clarified for Melissa.

  Susan grabbed her magnifying glass. “Looks like there was a break. Probably when he was a teenager.”

  I looked over her shoulder. “That’s good. Gives us something to check against a medical record.”

  Susan set the ulna down and picked up a thoracic vertebrae. I knew because part of one of the ribs was still attached.

  “Hmmm.” Susan held the fragment closer to her eyes. “This is strange.”

  Melissa and I edged closer.

  “What do you see?” I asked.

  “A piece of tape’s been stuck to this vertebrae.”

  “Thoracic, right?”

  “Yes. Middle range. Probably level with the heart.”

  “What kind of tape?” Melissa asked.

  “Shipping. Some type with filament reinforcement running through it. Would they have that in Vietnam?”

  “They would now,” I said. “Tesa International.”

  Susan and Melissa looked at me for an explanation.

  “They have a headquarters in Charlotte. I was the first officer on the scene of a break-in there once. I spoke with a manager and got the company spiel. They’re a big tape manufacturer with a global market. Vietnam is part of their Asian Pacific operations.”

  Susan peered through the magnifying glass. “Well, there’s no Tesa logo, and though the tape’s discolored with age, it certainly doesn’t date back too far, otherwise the adhesive would have dried out.”

  “Why tape that particular bone?” Melissa asked.

  “Maybe to keep the vertebrae intact. But there’s something under the tape. Might be soil.” Susan opened a drawer and found a small scalpel and a pair of tweezers. She laid the bone on the table. “I’ll see if I can remove the tape without damaging the fragment.”

  Susan worked the blade under a corner of the tape, and then picked at the edge with the tweezers. Meticulously prying and plucking, she separated the tape so that only a thin layer of dirt adhered. She set down her surgical instruments and examined the bone through the magnifying lens. “That explains the tape.”

  “What?” Melissa and I asked in unison.

  “There’s a bullet fused in the bone
. It’s mangled, but in one piece.”

  “That fits,” I said. “James Raven was killed in a firefight in the central highlands.”

  Susan grabbed the tweezers and pinched a rough extrusion of the metal. “That’s a surprise.” She dangled the slug above the bone. “No wonder he needed the tape.”

  “What do you mean?” Melissa asked.

  “I mean this bullet has been dug out once already. Then somebody taped it back in place.”

  I turned for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Susan asked.

  “To call Tommy Lee. I think you just found the key to this whole mystery. Now all we have to do is figure out what that key unlocks.”

  Chapter Twenty

  When I returned to examination room 3B, Susan was wrapping the bone and bullet in gauze. Melissa watched her from the corner. I got the sense neither had spoken while I was phoning Tommy Lee from Susan’s office. Susan sealed the gauze with a single strip of surgical tape and placed our discovery in the ammo case on top of the bag of skeletal remains.

  “Did you reach him?” Susan asked.

  “Yes. He wants to see the bones and the bullet right away.”

  “Is he coming here?”

  I could tell Susan wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of patrol cars descending upon the clinic. “No. He asked me to bring them to the back entrance of the Sheriff’s Department. He doesn’t want anyone to know yet.” I turned to Melissa. “I’ll drop you at the funeral home for your car. I can’t have you walking into Tommy Lee’s office with me.”

  Melissa frowned. “You’ll let me know what’s happening?”

  “Yes. You too, Susan. And this part’s been off the record.”

  “Of course,” Melissa agreed. “Thanks for including me.” She slipped past me into the hall before Susan and I could say anything.

  Susan handed me the case. “I hope this helps.”

  “It’s got to. We’re running out of options. Can I call you later?”

  She shrugged. “That’s up to you. If you can find the time.”

  Not exactly an enthusiastic invitation, but I resolved to make sure I’d be back in touch before the afternoon got away from me.