Unstoppable

by Laura Griffin

  When the waitress was gone, Gage settled his attention on Kelsey. She’d been in here before, obviously, probably grabbing a bite to eat with some of her students. Or was there one student in particular? That guy Aaron was very territorial. Gage could feel the man watching him whenever he got within ten feet of Kelsey, which was pretty much all the time. Aaron’s preoccupation seemed to go beyond professional interest, but from what Gage could tell it was a one-way street. At the dig site, Kelsey was completely wrapped up in her work, much like right now.

  “Okay, spill it.” Gage rested his arm on the back of the seat. “What’s the problem?”

  She blew out a sigh. “Sattler’s the problem. He’s not taking this seriously.”

  “What’s to take seriously?”

  “I think we’re dealing with a homicide. He should be all over this. The rest of the remains need to be recovered, and he needs to launch a murder investigation. Instead, you know what he’s doing today?”

  “What?”

  “Speed traps between here and I-10.”

  “He told you that?”

  “I overheard one of his deputies talking while I was waiting to meet with him.”

  Their drinks came and they both downed half the glass in one gulp.

  “How can you be sure this is a murder case?” Gage asked.

  “I can’t, especially not until I have the other bones, but I definitely found signs.”

  Gage lifted his eyebrows and waited.

  “Tiny flecks of metal embedded in the mandible,” she said. “Probably the result of a bullet fired through the skull.”

  “And you showed Sattler?”

  “Whipped out my magnifying glass and everything. He wasn’t convinced.”

  “So forget the cadaver dog. Why don’t you get a metal detector out there, see if you can find the bullet? If he was shot on site you might even get a shell casing.”

  She leaned back against the booth and blinked at him.

  “What?”

  “You ever thought of becoming a cop?” she asked.

  Gage glanced away. Life beyond the navy wasn’t something he talked about. But Spec Ops was a young man’s game, and he’d just turned thirty-two. He’d been doing a lot of soul-searching lately, especially since Kandahar.

  Kelsey stirred her drink with a straw. “I sent the jaw off to the lab for testing. Before they run the metal, I’m going to have my friend Mia take a look at it. She’s a DNA tracer, and I’m hoping she can get something useful from the tooth pulp.”

  “Don’t you need something to compare it to so you can get an ID?” Gage asked.

  “There could be something already in the Missing Persons index. If there is, we’ll get his remains turned over to his family. If there isn’t, we’ll enter the DNA profile in case someone comes looking for him someday.”

  Gage watched her, intrigued by the way she talked with so much emotion about a little chunk of bone. Obviously, to her, it represented a lot more than that.

  Their food came and she immediately dug into her sandwich. She had an appetite, which didn’t surprise him given the amount of time she spent working outdoors. Gage had never cared much for skinny girls, but this one actually had some meat on her—in all the right places.

  She caught him staring. “What?” she asked and took a slurp of Diet Coke.

  “You keep saying ‘him.’ You’re sure it’s a man?”

  She shrugged. “Mia can tell me for sure, but it looks that way, given the shape of the mental protuberance.”

  “The who?”

  She motioned him closer. He hesitated a second before resting his elbows on the table and leaning in.

  “The mental protuberance.” She rubbed her index finger over his chin. “It tends to have a square edge and be thicker for males.” Her finger moved to the side of his jaw. “And the gonial angle here? In males it’s usually more flared.”

  She dropped her hand away and picked up a french fry. “Anyway, we’ll know the sex for sure when Mia runs the DNA. I also found some interesting dental work.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Not that he gave a damn whatsoever. Gage forked up a bite of eggs and tried to shut out the thoughts racing through his head.

  “Two porcelain fillings. It goes a long way toward disproving Sattler’s theory.”

  “And what’s Sattler’s theory?”

  “That we’re dealing with an illegal immigrant, maybe a drug runner who got himself into trouble down near the river. It would be surprising for someone like that to have this sort of dental work.”

  Kelsey checked her watch and signaled the waitress. “Do you mind if we go soon? I really want to get back before that deputy shows up.” She smiled slightly. “Robles hates idle hands. If he sees him just sitting there, he’s liable to put him on bucket duty.”

  “I know all about bucket duty.”

  The waitress reappeared and Gage took the check. He reached for his wallet but Kelsey deftly snatched away the bill.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said. “You slept in your truck last night. The least I can do is feed you.”

  Sattler’s deputy hadn’t shown up by the time they made it back to camp, so Kelsey went ahead without him.

  She cherry-picked a team of her most capable students and started them at the highway. Their skeptical expressions told her they thought she was off base, that the search should have focused on the place where the mandible had been found. But when she’d mapped the area last night, she’d decided to start with a swath of land about a hundred yards north, her logic being that whoever had brought the victim here—dead or alive—had probably come via the highway and wouldn’t have wanted to stray too far off course. Scavengers could have moved the bones, whether they’d been left in the open or buried in a shallow grave.

  And so it began, the painstaking process of combing the ground, inch by inch, beneath the blistering Texas sun. At the outset energy was high. The students seemed to welcome a break in their routine, and Kelsey was counting on their enthusiasm to make up for their lack of formal training. This wasn’t a search and recovery squad, but she’d worked with volunteers before, and she knew what to expect.

  And as expected walking at a snail’s pace, head down, in the scorching heat eventually lost its appeal. Muscles ached. Eyes burned. Minds began to wander. After four hours of fruitless searching, she could tell everyone was ready to get back to the relative comfort of the caves and tarps.

  Everyone but Gage. He worked doggedly, without complaint, looking totally undaunted by both the climate and the task.

  For the millionth time this afternoon, Kelsey checked her watch. Still no deputy. Her temper festered. What could be keeping him? And why hadn’t Sattler so much as put in an appearance today? Kelsey didn’t understand how he could be so blasé about a potential murder within his jurisdiction.

  “Whoa, check it out!”

  Kelsey’s head snapped up at the gleeful words. Rohit, a PhD candidate in cultural anthropology, had dropped to his knees beside a prickly pear cactus.

  “I think it’s a femur.”

  Kelsey and the rest of the team rushed over. It was, indeed, a femur. But was it animal or human? She would need to examine a cortex sample under a microscope to be sure. But the size looked good, as did the joint surfaces.

  A shadow fell over her and she glanced up to see Gage.

  “You look excited,” he said.

  “This is good. A femur will tell us a lot. Stature, sex, probably PMI.”

  “PMI?”

  “Postmortem interval. The time since death. I can look at a cross section and get an idea.” She turned to Rohit. “Could you get my camera bag?”

  He sprinted off, and the rest of the team wandered away to find shade and break out their canteens.

  Gage crouched down beside her, shielding her from the sun with his body. “You sure it’s not from a cow or something?”

  “We’ll find out. But my hunch says it’s our guy. Now we just need the rest of him.�
� She glanced around. They’d crossed over to the west side of the road, but they weren’t far from it, maybe sixty yards. She was gaining more confidence in her roadside execution theory.

  Gage stood up and shrugged out of his backpack. “Nice work, Dr. Quinn.” He unzipped the pack and handed her a bottle of water. “Now, drink up. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  She stood up and swigged, then passed back the bottle. He took a long gulp, and her stomach fluttered as she watched his throat move.

  “Thanks for helping,” she said. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  He screwed the cap back on. “Now you tell me.”

  She felt a pang of guilt. “You could knock off for the day. If you’re tired—”

  “Who says I’m tired?” The side of his mouth curled up.

  “You’re sweating.”

  “It’s hot.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d think you’d be more into water sports.”

  He gave her a quizzical look.

  “You’re a SEAL. We’re in the desert.”

  “Sea-Air-Land, SEAL.” He smiled fully now. “Didn’t your uncle teach you anything?”

  His eyes twinkled with amusement as he gazed down at her. It was the first time he’d smiled at her, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.

  Don’t do it, Kelsey. Don’t you dare fall for this beautiful man who has to leave in a few days.

  She looked away—at the ground, the road, the cactus. Anything but Gage.

  And that’s when she spotted him.

  “Sattler’s guy showed,” Gage said.

  Kelsey set off toward him. “It’s about goddamned time.”

  Five

  It was the perfect night. Clear. Breezy. The temperature had even dipped below ninety. It was an ideal time to be out with friends, sitting at one of the riverfront bars, laughing and drinking margaritas.

  Instead, Mia Voss was headed home to an empty apartment, and the computer bag slung over her shoulder was stuffed with unfinished reports.

  She reached for her keys just as her purse started to glow and sing. She checked the number on her phone. Darn it, she’d forgotten to call Kelsey.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mia said, juggling computer, purse, and phone as she slid behind the wheel of her Jeep. “Yes, I got your message. And yes, he brought the bone.”

  Silence on the other end.

  “Kelsey?”

  “Who brought the bone?”

  “The sheriff’s guy.” Mia backed out of her space and nestled the phone in her lap so she could shift gears. “He had a ten-gallon hat and everything. Very Lonesome Dove.”

  “You’re telling me Sheriff Sattler had someone personally deliver my package to the Delphi Center?”

  “You sound surprised,” Mia said.

  “I am. So far, he hasn’t had the slightest interest in this case. At least, I thought he hadn’t.”

  “Well, evidently someone’s interested, because this guy was under strict orders not to simply leave the package with the evidence clerk. He had me paged down to the lobby to make sure I knew that his item had arrived and it was top priority.”

  “I’m shocked,” Kelsey said. “Did you have the heart to tell him the true meaning of top priority around there? And why am I on speaker phone?”

  “I’m in the Jeep,” Mia said. “Stick shift and cell phones don’t mix.”

  “It’s after ten. Don’t tell me you’re just leaving work.”

  “Okay, I won’t. Actually, I’m glad you called. There’s a chance your case could get bumped to the front of my line. What’s your estimate of the postmortem interval on this thing?”

  Kelsey paused. “I’d say six months to a year.”

  “Hmm . . .”

  “That’s a loaded hmm. What’s going on?”

  The Delphi Center’s electronic gates parted. Mia waved at the guard and rolled through, then turned onto the two-lane highway that would take her into San Marcos.

  “It’s possible your case could be related to an ongoing federal investigation,” Mia said.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “It’s a missing person case. About three months ago I got a bone sample in from Del Rio, which isn’t far from you. I was asked to use mitochondrial DNA and get a profile for comparison with a known sample. It was all very urgent. The agent who brought me the sample—”

  “Wait a second. Are we talking FBI?”

  Mia didn’t say anything, knowing her silence would be confirmation enough.

  “Why wouldn’t they send it to Quantico?”

  “I’m not sure,” Mia said. “But from what I gather, this investigator had an in at the Delphi Center and knew he could get a quick turnaround. I was ordered to analyze it ASAP, and that’s just what I did.”

  “And?”

  “And the results weren’t what they had hoped. Whoever their missing person is, the bone isn’t his.”

  “His?”

  “The missing person is male. Have you determined the sex on these bones yet?”

  “I think so,” Kelsey said. “We found the femur this afternoon and I’ve been working on it all night. I can tell you it’s human, large in stature, probably male. And definitely an adult.”

  “If the bone has been there six months to a year that would fit with my case, too.”

  “Do the feds have dental records on this missing person?” Kelsey asked.

  “I’m not sure. Why?”

  “He’s got some distinctive dental work. Expensive. You should get our forensic odontologist to take a look.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “Are you going to fill me in on what this is about?”

  Mia heard the annoyance in her friend’s voice. They didn’t normally keep secrets but, in this case, it wasn’t Mia’s decision.

  “I wish I could,” she said. “I’ll let you know what develops. Probably by late tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? Mia, come on. What in the world is this about?”

  “I don’t know yet,” she lied. “But I’ll tell you more as soon as I can.”

  Kelsey hung up the satellite phone, baffled. She walked over to the stove and stirred her pot of soup as she tried to decipher Mia’s words.

  The Delphi Center was known for its rapid turnaround time. It was one of the things that set the lab apart from publicly funded crime labs around the country. But in her three years as a tracer, Kelsey had never once had one of her cases get bumped to the front of the line. And she’d worked on some high-profile investigations.

  What had she stumbled into?

  A light tap sounded at the door and her pulse jumped. Maybe it was Gage. He’d been standoffish earlier, and she’d been feeling snubbed.

  She opened the door to find Dr. Robles standing in the drizzle. He wore a yellow rain slicker, and with his gray beard he looked like the fisherman from those seafood commercials.

  “I’ve finished my examination of your femur,” he said, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “I concur with most of your findings, but I think your height estimate is a bit high. I would say five-eleven.”

  “Thanks for the second opinion.” Kelsey opened the door wider and waved a hand at the stove. “Would you like a bowl of soup? I was just about to eat.”

  “Thank you, no. I should get to bed.” He glanced uneasily over his left shoulder. “But you might offer the same hospitality to your friend.”

  “What?”

  “Your police detective.” The professor’s look turned disapproving. “He shouldn’t have to sleep in the rain.”

  Kelsey poked her head outside and spotted the long dark lump beneath one of the nearby shade tarps.

  “Oh my God.” She stalked over to him. “Gage! What are you doing?”

  He opened one eye and peered up at her in the dimness. “Trying to get some sleep.”

  “You can’t sleep out here!”

  “Not with you yelling at me.”

  “But . . . I thought you were in
your truck.”

  “Decided to stretch out tonight.”

  “Get up. This is ridiculous. You don’t even have a sleeping bag.” He was using his duffel for a pillow, for crying out loud.

  “Kelsey, I’m fine. Go back to bed.”

  “I’m not in bed. And there’s no way I can sleep tonight knowing you’re out in this rain. Come inside.”

  He sighed heavily and dropped his arm over his face. “Kelsey, come on. I can’t sleep with you. Jesus. If Joe finds out—”

  “I didn’t ask you to sleep with me. You can sleep on my floor. Inside.”

  He gazed up at her and she crossed her arms, adamant.

  Finally, he got to his feet. He wore the same jeans and T-shirt he’d had on earlier, and he’d gone to bed with his gun on. Was he really that worried about her safety?

  He shoved his feet into the boots parked beneath one of the worktables. “You’re trying my patience, Quinn. I was almost asleep.”

  She turned her back on him and went inside the camper. She moved a few stacks of books, then retrieved the sleeping bag from her fold-out bed and spread it out on the floor. She’d settle for a blanket tonight.

  Gage stood in the doorway, watching her. His gaze shifted to the stove.

  She tossed him a dish towel. “You told me you ate already.”

  “I did.”

  She watched him dry off, trying to imagine what he’d put together for his dinner while she’d been in here buried in work.

  “I’ve got chicken tortilla soup,” she said.

  “Really, I’m okay.” He glanced at the stove again.

  Kelsey took a clean bowl from the milk crate where she stored her dishes. It was one of her few indulgences. She didn’t mind cold showers, and Laundromats, and no phones all summer. But she despised eating with paper plates and plastic utensils, so she brought dishes from home. She filled a bowl with steamy soup and put it on the table.

  Gage stepped onto the camper, finally, and looked around for a place to stash his duffel.

  “Under the table’s fine,” she said. “You can move those books.”

  Gage stowed his bag and slid onto the bench seat. His long legs stuck out into the middle of the room.

  “Sorry about the clutter.” Kelsey put two spoons on the table, then filled another bowl with soup and slid onto the seat beside him.