By the time she’d finished her soda, Devon had returned from the long trailer that held not only scientific equipment and a mini-lab in the front, but also a tiny kitchenette, bathroom and bunk in the back. The vehicle was hooked up to both a generator and a water line running from the house.
Most of the time when they traveled to burial scenes, Devon stayed in the recreational-vehicle-turned-lab, and Patience ended up staying in a nearby motel or rented room and driving back and forth to the scene.
She’d been told before she arrived here that there was a room on the premises where she could stay. She had a room in what the cowboys called the cowboy motel, a sprawling twelve-unit building that housed all of the ranch hands who worked on the ranch.
On the back side of the building was a large dining area where a man named Cookie prepared meals. She didn’t eat there—not because she would be the only woman in the place, that wouldn’t bother her, but because she didn’t want to pretend that she was here for anything else but work. She didn’t make small talk and she didn’t attempt to play nice with the locals. There was no point.
The tedious job of removing each tiny bone and then staring at her computer screen where she had photos of the skeletons as they’d initially been found was both frustrating and exhausting.
As each bone was removed from the makeshift grave, it was photographed and numbered, weighed and examined, and then placed on a table until it could be joined with the rest of the bones that would make up an entire human skeleton.
Although they had lights set up in case they wanted to work late, by six o’clock that evening she was ready to call it a day. Her back ached from bending over the burial pit, and her eyes burned from staring at the computer screen for so long.
“Let’s go ahead and knock off for the day,” she said to Devon.
He nodded and peeled the white lab coat he wore off his broad shoulders and draped it over his chair. “See you in the morning,” he said as he left the tent.
She had no idea what Devon did in the evenings. Behind the large lab trailer they had pulled a compact car. Most evenings it was gone, and she assumed that rather than attempt to cook in the small, fairly inadequate kitchenette in the trailer or join the others in the cowboy dining room, he went into town for his evening meals.
Although they had been coworkers for a little over a year now, they didn’t share much of their personal lives with each other. She only knew that, like her, he was unmarried and dedicated to his job. That was all she needed to know about him.
She took off her lab coat and slung it across the back of her chair. Her sleeveless white cotton blouse clung to her, and her brown capris felt heavy and hot.
She was just looking forward to a shower and spending a mindless evening indulging in her two secret pleasures: reading tabloids and eating cheese puffs. She also had a stash of protein bars and other nonperishable foods in her room, but cheese puffs were definitely her weakness.
She left the tent and started the long walk to the cowboy motel. At this time of the evening, the ranch was relatively quiet. Most of the men had finished their work for the day and were in the dining room enjoying their dinners.
The grass beneath her feet was slightly crunchy, transforming from the lush spring grass to browning summer-burnt thatch.
The heat would only get worse as summer progressed. Hopefully she could finish up her work here within the next couple of weeks. But bones spoke in their own time, and she knew she couldn’t rush things. Rushing resulted in mistakes, and Dr. Patience Forbes didn’t make mistakes.
She slowed her pace as the cowboy motel came into view and she saw Forest standing outside his bunk door. Without his hat, his black hair shone shiny and rich in the sunlight and his features were more sharply defined.
Why was he just standing there, as if waiting for her? She’d been abrupt...no, she’d been downright rude when he’d introduced himself to her earlier that day. Why would he want to see or speak to her again?
Maybe he was just waiting for another cowboy to join him to go to dinner. Surely that was it. His handsome, sculptured features transformed into something softer as she drew closer, and he smiled at her.
The warmth of his smile shifted something inside her, heated a place in her stomach she didn’t know existed. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.
“Good evening,” he said.
She nodded and pulled her bunk room key from her back pocket. Before she could put the key into the lock, he lightly touched her forearm and then immediately dropped his hand to his side.
“Dr. Forbes?”
She turned to look at him, struck for the second time that day by the beauty of his bright blue eyes. “Yes?”
“There’s a barn dance next Friday night and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”
“A barn dance?” she parroted in surprise. Was he asking her out for a date? The very thought boggled her mind. She’d certainly given him no indication that she would be remotely open to the possibility of anything like that. “Why would I want to go to a barn dance?” she asked.
He shrugged. “To enjoy the local flavor, to step away from your work for a night of fun...maybe let down your hair a little bit.”
“My hair is down and I’m here to work. Thanks, but no thanks.” She unlocked her door and stepped inside and closed it behind her.
She immediately sank down on the twin bed, still stunned that he’d actually asked her out. She was thirty years old and the last time a man had asked her out on a date was during her college years, and that had been a huge mistake.
Why on earth would he want to spend any time with her, given the fact that she’d been so...so unlikeable since she’d arrived?
She tossed her key on top of the nearby chest of drawers and then headed for the tiny bathroom where a refreshing shower awaited.
As she stood beneath a tepid spray of water to wash off the dirt and dust of the day, she tried not to think about the handsome cowboy who had asked her out to a barn dance.
Instead she focused on all the reasons she’d chosen to be unlikeable over the course of the years. She’d learned early in her career that being a petite red-haired woman with big green eyes made people doubt her abilities.
She’d had to work twice as hard, twice as long as men in her field to gain the recognition and respect of the people she worked with and for.
She didn’t like to be distracted from her work, and a hot, handsome cowboy would definitely be a major distraction. She had no desire for a relationship, so there was no point in being nice or dating. Her snarky attitude kept people at bay and that was the way she liked it.
She got out of the shower, dried off and then pulled a lightweight purple cotton nightshirt over her head. She grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and a new bag of cheese puffs from her stash of food and then settled on the bed.
She reached beneath the bed and tugged out a plastic bag filled with tabloids. She grabbed one of the slick magazines and opened it to begin to read.
This was how she lived, vicariously through the colorful pictures and outlandish articles about people she didn’t know, people she would never meet. It was safe and uncomplicated.
Chapter 2
It was just after noon the next day when Devon drew Patience’s attention to the tent door. He stepped outside and she followed him, a slight breeze providing welcome relief from the stifling heat inside the tent.
Devon pointed to where a horse trailer had pulled up to a nearby small corral. “I heard from Adam Benson that a new horse was being delivered today. It’s a wild horse that hasn’t seen much human contact.”
“I didn’t know that you and the ranch foreman were so friendly,” she replied.
“He’s a nice man. I’ve had dinner with him a couple of times at the café in town.”
&
nbsp; Patience turned her attention back to the corral. Unlike her, Devon often made nice with the locals when they were working a case.
She recognized Forest as one of the men who got out of the truck that had backed up the trailer to the corral gate. He moved from the front of the truck to the back of the trailer with an unusual grace for a big man and opened the door.
A huge black horse exploded out backward and then bucked and kicked across the corral’s arena to the opposite side of the enclosure.
The truck pulled away and Forest closed the corral gate and then rested a foot on the lower rung of the wooden fence and watched the horse.
“The men say he’s a horse whisperer,” Devon said.
“What does that mean?” she asked, wondering why she cared a bit about what others might say about Forest Stevens.
“It means he has a special touch, that he can communicate with wild horses and work with them to learn to trust human beings. From what I understand, it’s a true gift.”
“Interesting,” she replied and stepped back into the entrance of the tent to get back to work. What was definitely interesting and irritating had been Forest invading her dreams the night before.
Patience almost never dreamed, but when she did, it was either about the case she was working on or a story she’d read in one of her tabloids before going to sleep. She definitely didn’t dream about big, hot cowboys with brilliant blue eyes and warm smiles...until last night.
She’d dreamed they’d been at a barn dance, which in and of itself had been odd since she’d never been to such an event in her entire life. Still, they’d been in a barn and there had been music and laughter and he’d held her tight in his big, strong arms as they danced across a hay-strewn floor.
He’d been warm and so intimately close and had smelled of sunshine and wind and fragrant cologne. She’d wanted the dance to never end and then she’d awakened, appalled by what her brain had conjured up for a night fantasy.
She stepped back to the tent doorway and snapped her attention back to the scene before her, where Forest had stepped just inside the corral gate. He looked confident, yet at ease as the horse pawed the ground and eyed him in suspicion.
“Well, I’d love to stand around and watch Forest whisper, but we have work to do. Besides, I’m expecting Chief Bowie to show up sometime soon. I spoke to him this morning and told him we have enough information to indicate that the first victim we’ve put together from the top of the pit was definitely murdered.” Of course the first skeleton they’d pulled from the pit was the last victim of the killer.
Devon nodded and together they returned to the tent and the tedious work at hand. It wasn’t long after they’d taken a break for lunch when Chief of Police Dillon Bowie arrived at the entrance of the tent.
Bowie was an attractive man, but he wore the burden of this crime scene in the weary lines of his face and the grim press of his lips.
He paused at the entrance, as if waiting for permission to enter. “You said you have some information for me?”
She motioned him into the tent and to the steel table where a complete human skeleton rested. “We assumed that the people in the pit were probably murder victims. This would have been the last victim of whatever happened here, as we’re working from the top of the pit down.”
Chief Bowie nodded and stared at the table. “So, what can you tell me about it?”
“Not it, him—the skeleton is that of a young male.”
“How young?”
“Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen or so. Thankfully, the teeth are intact in the skull, which helped me with the age issue. I took X-rays and dental impressions so that you could use them to check with dentists, but unfortunately it doesn’t look like he’d had any dental work done.”
Patience paused to take a breath and then picked up the skull, ignoring the faint distaste that crossed Bowie’s features. “This young man was definitely murdered.” She turned the skull over to display a long straight crack in the center. “I would guess either a very sharp axe or a meat cleaver, or something like that was used to kill him. I’m leaning toward the meat cleaver due to the narrowness of the injury. It was clean and deep and probably killed him instantly.”
She set the skull back on the table. She pointed to another steel table. “As you can see, we’re about halfway through putting together the bones to this victim...also male and with the same kind of wound to the back of the skull—and that’s all I can give you so far.”
Dillon gestured her outside of the hot tent. “Have you been able to discern how long the bones have been there?”
“As you know when we first arrived on scene, we analyzed soil samples and any insect life present, and of course, the condition of the bones, and my guess would be twelve to sixteen years,” she replied. “I’m sorry I can’t narrow the time line any better.”
His frown deepened. “That means everyone on this ranch and the neighboring ranches are potential suspects.”
“I thought you’d already reached that conclusion.”
He released a sigh. “I had, but I didn’t want to believe it.”
“To make your job more complicated, I don’t think these people were all killed at the exact same time. The soil samples indicate the first body was buried twelve to fifteen years ago, but the way the bodies were stacked up, I would guess that they were probably killed over the course of a year or so. It wasn’t a mass killing that took place all at one time, but rather a serial kind of event. I’ll have better clarity about that when we finally get to the bottom of the stack of bones.”
He took off his hat and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He swiped his forehead and then placed his hat back on his head and tucked the handkerchief away. “This is the first time you’ve spoken to me without yelling.”
A warmth of a blush swept over her cheeks. “My number-one priority is to keep the integrity of the crime scene. I allowed your photographer access to get what photos you needed for your case file, but I’m very proprietary about the scene, especially in the very beginning when something could happen to taint the scene.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” he replied dryly.
She couldn’t apologize for doing her job. “If you come back tomorrow, I’ll see to it that you have a full report along with the dental records. I’m also bagging any scraps of fabric or hair we find among the bones, although so far there isn’t much of either left, and I won’t be able to tell you what of those items went with what victim.”
“Hopefully, it won’t be long before you get to the other bodies?”
“It takes as long as it takes,” she replied. She knew he’d been frustrated by how long it had taken her to begin to move the bones from the pit, but there had been much preliminary work that had to be done before actually moving the bones.
There was no way she could pin down a specific time line for him now. She wasn’t in control, the bones were. “This is a process that can’t be rushed.”
He nodded. “Cassie mentioned to me that several times she’s invited you to the big house to eat dinner, but you’ve declined.”
“I have,” she agreed. “I’m here to work, and generally I don’t mix business with pleasure. I prefer to keep myself isolated from the locals. When I’m done with my work, I leave and never look back.”
“I just figured I’d mention that Cassie is a terrific woman, just in case you feel inclined to have some girl talk or whatever.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Patience replied, although she had no idea what “girl talk” involved and had no intention of indulging in it. She knew nothing about fashion or shoes or men...or any of the kinds of things she assumed “girl talk” would entail.
“I’ll be back sometime in the morning for your report?”
“That’s fine,” she replied. “I’ll make sure I have
everything ready on victim one.”
She watched as the lawman walked back toward the house, and then her gaze automatically shot to the corral where the big black horse was alone in the enclosure.
She frowned irritably. She’d looked to see if she could catch sight of Forest. What was wrong with her? Why would she even want to look for him? He was just part of the scenery here, nothing more. She returned to the tent and got back to work.
For the next week she focused on the job she was here to do, but found herself at odd times of the day standing in the tent entrance and gazing toward the corral.
Sometimes the horse was there alone and other times Forest was in the corral with the horse. He often stood in one place for a long period of time and then would move, forcing the horse to back away to keep a healthy distance from the human intruder.
Forest appeared to be a patient man, a trait he and Patience shared in common. He didn’t attempt to force himself on the huge animal, but appeared to be waiting for the horse to come to him.
By Friday they had managed to piece together all of skeleton two, confirming that it was a young male with the same kind of wound to the back of his skull. She’d written her report, taken the necessary dental X-rays and once again had nothing concrete that would help Dillon Bowie make identification either of the victim or the person responsible for the deaths.
She assumed he was checking missing-persons reports from years ago, but at the time these young men had been murdered, instant technology hadn’t been available. He had a difficult task ahead of him, and it was possible the killer was long gone from the area. Of course it was also possible he could be working on this ranch. From what she’d heard, all of the twelve cowboys had been young ranch hands at the time the murders would have taken place.
It was after seven when she and Devon finally knocked off for the day. The officer who showed up each night at around this time to guard the burial scene through the night had already arrived. Even after almost a month, Patience didn’t know his name.
He arrived each evening carrying a canvas folding chair that he set up at one end of the tent and settled in for a night of guard duty.
Cowboy Under Fire Page 2
