by Terry Odell
“I ever tell you you’re too damn efficient?”
“Not nearly enough.”
“Make them from the department,” Gordon said. Screw the bean counters; the budget could handle one lousy floral arrangement. He’d bring his own offering to the hospital later.
He leafed through the pages, finding Benny and Zannah’s property records. They’d moved into the house forty years ago—mentally thanking Laurie for going the extra mile. He tapped the address into the police database and got the phone number for the new owners. Sure, it had been a long time, but when they’d bought the house, they might have needed contact information. Forwarding address, some way to contact the previous owners with questions about repairs, recommendations for local merchants. Maybe they were the kind of people who saved stuff like that.
Yeah, right.
But he picked up the phone.
“No,” the woman who answered said when Gordon asked her about Benny and Zannah. “We’ve only lived here five years. The house was empty when we bought it, and we dealt strictly with the Realtors. I think the previous owners had moved away and had been renting it out.”
Gordon thanked her and got the name of the real estate company that had handled the sale. From there, he got the name of the people who’d originally bought the house from Benny and Zannah. Not a huge step forward, but it felt good to be following a trail. Maybe Angie was right about him—he was like a terrier with a bone.
Or maybe he simply liked any excuse to avoid dealing with routine paperwork.
When Solomon called announcing they’d hit pay dirt—or pay bones, as he put it, Gordon called Pierce Asel at the Coroner’s Office. By the time Asel got to Mapleton, Gordon’s team would have excavated the other two sites. A glance at the time said his lunch break was right about now, and what better place to take it than in the woods?
* * * * *
Gordon parked in front of the Kretzers’ house, behind Vicky McDermott’s cruiser. She was standing on the porch, holding a large thermos and talking to Megan. He loped up the walkway from the street. “Everything okay?” he asked, knowing the answer, because he’d have heard if his officers had found anything untoward.
McDermott swiveled at the question. “Hey, Chief. I was thanking Miss Wyatt for the coffee and returning her thermos.”
“Sorry to have pulled the freak-out card,” Megan said. “I guess with the bones, and Rose being sick, I overreacted.”
Gordon shook his head. “You did exactly right. And, so you know, someone from the Coroner’s Office will be here in a while.”
“More bones?” Megan gripped the porch rail. “Are they from the same person?”
Gordon turned a questioning gaze to McDermott. She shrugged and said, “No way to tell—at least not by me. I’m afraid I wouldn’t know one bone from another.” She shifted her attention to Megan. “Thanks again for the coffee.”
“No problem,” Megan said. “Would you like a refill?”
“No, we’re fine, but would you mind if I used your bathroom? Sort of goes along with drinking coffee.”
Megan laughed. “Of course not. There’s one off the living room. To the left.”
McDermott strode into the house. Gordon couldn’t help but notice Megan’s red-rimmed eyes and the purple shadows beneath them. “You holding up all right? I thought you’d be at the hospital.”
“Sam promised to call if he had any news, so while I was waiting, I’ve been catching up on… work. I’m about ready to head over now.”
“Give Rose my best.” Once McDermott returned and Megan went back inside, Gordon asked his officer for an update as they walked into the woods.
“Same as I told Miss Wyatt. Nothing obvious like a skull. And they’re loose bones. Not like the skeleton hanging in my high school’s Biology classroom.”
They crunched their way through fallen leaves, skirting deadfall, and dodging low-hanging branches. As they approached the site, the smell of freshly turned dirt lingered in the air. Along with faint birdsong, Gordon heard the clicks of Solomon’s camera. He quickened his pace.
Titch straightened at Gordon’s approach. “Almost done here, Chief.” He held a small brush.
Gordon ducked under the yellow tape and peered around Solomon’s crouched figure into a neatly excavated hole.
“Go,” Solomon said, pointing the camera into the hole.
Titch squatted and brushed dirt aside, uncovering what Gordon recognized as a vertebra. Looking more closely, he saw at least three more.
“Not sure we’re getting them all. Between the rocks and the roots, it’s hard to know how much is down here,” Titch said.
Solomon snapped several more pictures.
“Once Asel gets here, he can decide if we should call out a forensics team from County,” Gordon said. “What about the other sites?”
“Haven’t started those yet,” Solomon said. “This is slow going. Be easier if we could shovel the whole thing up and sift through it.”
Gordon pondered that for a moment. “Yeah, but be our luck that we’d find some kind of weapon or evidence of cause of death, and moving it would confuse the investigation.”
“Are we investigating a crime scene?” Titch asked. “Isn’t it a matter of finding bones and trying to identify them?”
“But if these bones got here because of a crime, then aren’t we obligated to preserve the scene to the best of our ability?” McDermott said.
Gordon rubbed his eyes. What had started out as a mission to satisfy his curiosity was getting well out of hand—at least for his tiny department. “According to the law, the only place human bones should be is in a cemetery. Tell you what. Solomon, you take one site. Titch, take the other. Get as far as the first bone you find, record it, and get back to your regular assignments. McDermott, you can head out now. I’ll hang around until Asel gets here.”
“I’m off, Chief, remember?” Solomon said. “I don’t have a regular assignment. I’m happy to stay and work here.”
Gordon dragged his hand through his hair. “I’d have to do too much book-juggling. This is a police investigation, so there’s no such thing as off the clock, and the budget can’t handle the additional overtime right now.”
“Understood, Chief.” Solomon picked up one of the shovels and tromped into the trees. Titch went off in the other direction.
Gordon’s phone rang before either man was out of sight. Laurie’s name on the display didn’t enhance his mood. “What’s up?”
“Sorry, Chief. The mayor has requested your presence. Forthwith. And no, he didn’t say what it was about.”
“Forthwith, was it?”
“His words exactly. And it didn’t sound like he was going to give you a medal.”
“On my way.” He disconnected and called Titch. No need for this one to hit the radio. “I’m needed at the mayor’s office. Pierce Asel from the Coroner’s Office is on his way. When he gets here, show him what you’ve found, and report what he says.” Next, he called Solomon and told him to call it a day.
“I haven’t even started yet,” Solomon said.
“Good. Titch will meet with Asel. The mayor wants to see me, and I don’t want to have to lie about your whereabouts.”
“You think he knows what I’m doing here?”
“I don’t know what he knows, but with the mayor, it’s always smart to assume the worst.”
“Tell his worshipfulness to stick it for me.” Although Solomon’s tone was light, Gordon heard the undertones that said he wasn’t kidding.
On his way downtown, Gordon noticed the white Coroner’s Office van, Asel behind the wheel, heading toward the site. Much as Gordon wanted to see what Asel said, he wanted to piss off the mayor even less. Especially since he figured the man was already pissed off.
He swung his SUV into a slot in the lot behind City Hall. Rather than take the faster rear entrance, he opted for the flower-lined brick walkway that meandered around the building, using the time to get his temper in check. The pa
rk in the center of the square, with its complement of moms pushing strollers and kids chasing balls, calmed him. This was Mapleton, and this was what he worked to protect. Not the spreadsheets the mayor constantly threw at him. Maybe he should suggest to the mayor that they have their meeting on one of the benches under a cottonwood tree.
Inside the building, he strode across the worn but polished wooden floor and up the curving staircase with its wrought-iron balustrade to the mayor’s office. Fixing a smile on his face, he opened the frosted-glass paneled door with its gilt lettering proclaiming it the Office of the Mayor. Gordon gave the man credit for not insisting his name be emblazoned on the glass. After all, it was supposed to be the office, not the man inside it, that counted.
With barely a nod to the mayor’s assistant, Gordon sidestepped a stack of “Re-elect Martin Alexander” posters and strode through the anteroom into the mayor’s office. “You wanted to see me, Sir?”
The mayor didn’t bother looking up from the papers he was reading. “Close the door.”
Chapter 15
Megan spotted Justin in the lobby as soon as she entered the hospital. The slumped shoulders and grim expression on his face filled her gut with ice. Rose’s overnight case slipped from her fingers. “What happened?”
“She’s in Intensive Care. Her fever spiked, and they want to monitor her more closely. Opa is upstairs with her.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“Didn’t want to worry you until we knew what was going on,” Justin said.
“Did you call your mom?”
Justin scrubbed his hands across his face. “I left that to Opa. He said there was no immediate reason to bother them.”
“That’s good, then, right? Can we see Rose?”
“No.” The single syllable pierced her heart.
“But I brought her things—” Guilt overwhelmed her. Maybe she couldn’t have done anything if she’d been here, but she’d have been here. Instead, she’d been using the private time to work on her business plans.
“Come on.” Justin took her hand and picked up the case. Blindly, she followed, oblivious to everything but the ringing in her ears. He led her to a small windowed alcove containing a loveseat, two chairs, a coffee table, and an end table. He tucked the case between the sofa and the end table, then pulled her down onto the loveseat beside him. “They’re being cautious. Following procedure. They see a seventy-seven-year-old woman, not Oma.”
Megan stared out the window into a small garden space. A pair of hummingbirds fought over the rights to forage from a purple flower. Tiny birds, but feisty. Like Rose. “I hope you’re right.”
Justin pulled her against him. She sat for a moment, leaning against his chest, listening to the reassuring beat of his heart. Regrouping. What she wouldn’t give for a few hours, just the two of them, where she could lose herself in his strength. Let him make the world go away—and then, when they surfaced again, Rose would be fine.
You’re not a wimpy character in a romance novel. You’d never last if the only thing in your life was Justin.
She toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “The cops were by the house. They found more bones.”
He jerked away, and it was like he’d taken a part of her with him.
“More?” he asked. “They give you any idea what it means?”
“It means they found more bones.”
He poked her biceps, breaking the spell. “I mean, like why they’re there, or who they belong to, or who buried them?”
“Nope. I gave them coffee.” She sighed. “I suppose I should have given them food, too. Rose would have. But we ran out of the party leftovers, and I don’t have the energy to bake. Or the stomach for it, frankly. I don’t think I could stand dealing with food.”
“Don’t let Oma hear you say that. It would hit her harder than her bug.”
She ignored his poor attempt at levity. “Speaking of bugs, have they identified it yet?”
“Not that I know of. Maybe Sam will have an update when he comes down.”
For several moments, Megan watched the hummingbirds darting back and forth, seemingly more interested in keeping each other away from the flowers than feeding. When she found the strength to speak, it was to the birds, not Justin. “I quit my job.”
He twisted, clutching her shoulders. His eyes popped wide. “What? When? Because of Oma?”
She shrugged away. “No, but you can’t say anything. Promise?”
“Megan—”
She put a fingertip to his lips. “Promise, Justin. No talking about it until I say it’s okay.”
He groaned. “All right. Promise. But you have to give me details. What happened?”
She concentrated on the hummingbirds. “I gave my notice over a month ago. To be honest, I’d started thinking about it before my last visit. How working for Peerless was running my life, not enhancing it. My last day was two weeks ago.”
“What? You never said anything about it.”
“I know. I saw the writing on the wall. Changes in management, changes in staffing, and well—in the greater scheme of things, running myself ragged so a bunch of business people could pretend to be doing important stuff while they were really looking for excuses to party—it was getting old. I got tired of being the fall guy whenever anything went wrong, and the hotels getting all the credit when it went right.”
“I can’t believe your boss would believe that.” He narrowed his eyes, staring at her until she had to break eye contact. He rested his hands on her shoulders. “I get the feeling you’re not telling me the whole story.”
She squirmed from his touch, although she wanted nothing more than to give in. To cry. To swear. To be that wimpy romance character. Instead, she veered the conversation in another direction. “Not you, too, with the feelings thing. I thought Angie held the monopoly on that.” And if Justin had noticed, had Angie? Megan had made a point of avoiding the subject and not confiding in her best friend during her stay at Angie’s place. At Justin’s unwavering glare, Megan shoved her fingers through her hair. “He left the company for greener pastures six months ago.”
Justin frowned. “Something else you never shared.”
“I only shared good news with you. In my business, people come and go almost as fast as the events themselves.” She snorted. “I was one of the old guard. The steady, reliable, nothing-fazes-her, hot-shot meeting planner. When my boss left, I actually thought I’d be considered for his position—or at least get a major promotion.”
“You should have been.”
“That’s beside the point. I wasn’t. There were a couple of temporary directors, and I kept hoping Corporate would offer the permanent slot to me. But they didn’t.” She got up and moved closer to the window. The hummingbirds paused for a few seconds, as if assessing her approach as a potential threat before going back to their fussing and foraging. “Then my new boss offered me a promotion.”
“Sounds great. Why didn’t you take it?”
She turned so Justin couldn’t see the heat rising to her face. “Let’s just say that particular position would have required me to take several other… positions… of a more… personal nature.”
She sensed Justin behind her, but focused her attention on the hummingbirds. Steeling herself, she turned to face him, saw the fury in his eyes.
“Nothing happened,” she said. “Other than sticking me with the most miserable assignments, with the most miserable clients, in the most miserable venues.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t report him.”
“His connections go all the way up to some Vice President in Corporate. His word against mine—they’d believe him, not me. Say I was complaining because he’d asked me to run events nobody else had the skills to manage.”
He gripped her hands. “You could have talked to me.”
“I was handling it. And… I couldn’t bring myself to share with anyone. Not you. Not Angie. Rose and Sam—” her voice cracked and she wrenched from his grip
. “You can’t tell them anything. You know how important they think my job is. How proud they are. This isn’t the time to let them know I’m unemployed.”
Not merely unemployed. Virtually blacklisted from any major event planning company.
Justin didn’t speak for an uncomfortably long moment. “So, what are you going to do? Stay in San Diego?”
Did she sense more in his tone? Did he think she wanted to move in with him? Not that she hadn’t considered it, but she wasn’t going to be the one to suggest it. And if he did, she didn’t know how to respond. Handling a new relationship and a new job—and Rose’s illness was too much.
Or was she hearing hurt in his voice because she hadn’t shared her plans?
Leave the emotion out of it. Stick to the facts.
“My lease runs through the end of the year.” A cop-out answer, but her brain wasn’t functioning well enough to handle discussing her future with Justin. “I’m considering options, but what I need is some time to decompress. Which was part of the reason I decided to throw Rose a party. An excuse to come up here and get away from the city.”
“You’re thinking of settling in Mapleton?”
Again, she tried to read his tone. Again, she failed. If he gave a damn where she decided to live, why couldn’t he say something? She chided herself. He was probably too worried about Rose to give Megan his full attention. And, he was a guy. Guys didn’t show their emotions.
“It’s a possibility,” she said. “Right now, I’m thinking about Rose. And since I don’t have a job to go back to, I can stay as long as she needs me.”
He touched her arm. “You’ll have to tell them, you know.”
She sighed. “I know. But I’m hoping they won’t be too upset if I wait a while. Until I have some better news.”
“You have something in the fire?”
Did he sound interested? Or did he think he was obligated to ask? “I’m working on it.” Of course, she hadn’t said anything about her idea to the one person she needed for it to come together. Or could she manage without Angie? There were other areas with clusters of small towns. She wasn’t locked into Mapleton. Should she look into areas closer to Justin? But a ‘maybe’ relationship wasn’t a smart basis for choosing a career location.
