“I’d like to be involved on the front end.”
Wyatt nodded. “So would everybody else here. I can’t give you special privileges, Mr. Taabe.”
Taabe’s black eyes narrowed slightly. “What if I provide three men to help guard the site? One for each shift.”
Wyatt eyed him. Just how trustworthy was he? Same question went for the men he was offering. The extra help would ease Wyatt’s mind a lot. And if there was a Native American guard on each shift, along with local law enforcement, then maybe the result would be like the fox, the goose and the grain, and there would be no more midnight attacks.
He gave Taabe a slight nod. “I’ll check with the sheriff. See what he says.”
Taabe’s head dipped slightly. “Good enough.”
Beside him, Ellie frowned. “Daniel, he practically—”
Taabe moved one hand, an almost imperceptible gesture. Quieted, Ellie pressed her lips together tightly, but she didn’t say anything else.
Taabe continued. “Lieutenant, one more thing. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to talk with you somewhere other than in Mayor Sadler’s office.” Taabe’s mouth turned up in a wry smile.
Wyatt nodded. “Fine with me. Where would you like to meet?”
“I’m headed to my office now. Would you be interested in talking there once you’re finished here?”
Wyatt agreed and made a note of the directions to Taabe’s office. They exchanged phone numbers; then Taabe and Ellie left.
As Wyatt stepped over to Hardin’s desk, he noticed Collier had walked over to stand with Shane Tolbert. They were sharing a laugh.
“Well?” Hardin asked, dropping into his desk chair.
Wyatt shook his head. “Curious bunch of people,” he commented quietly as he took in the area around Hardin’s desk.
He remembered Hardin as superorganized. His desk reflected that, as did the calendar hanging on the wall. It was marked in block letters, with appointments and neatly printed notes.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Hardin commented wryly as he rubbed his eyes.
“Yeah. I’m sure.” Wyatt turned his attention to Collier and Tolbert. “If you had to say who stole that bone last night, who would you finger?”
Hardin leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “That’s a tough one. I like to stay neutral and let the facts speak for themselves.”
“I do, too, but there’s sure not much to go on.” Wyatt lowered his voice. “How likely is it that Tolbert saw something and isn’t telling us?”
Hardin took a deep breath. “Can’t say. It’d depend on who or what he saw.”
Wyatt pushed his fingers through his hair. So Hardin didn’t trust Tolbert. Not completely. “What about Collier? Whitley? The mayor?”
“This is a small town. People here have known each other for years—some for all their lives. There’s a lot of loyalty and a lot of resentment among the folks that live here.”
“Okay, what about this? Why would Daniel Taabe offer men to help guard the crime scene?”
“He did that?”
“He said he wanted to be in the loop—to know what we find as soon as we find it.”
Hardin shrugged. “He’s real interested in preserving Comanche history. Maybe he wants to watch over the site in case it is a sacred burial ground.”
Wyatt caught Tolbert’s eye and nodded, indicating he was ready to talk to him. “Or?”
“Or he knows what we’re going to find out there.”
“That’s what I figure,” Wyatt said. “In fact, my guess is that every single person who came here this morning knows more than they’re saying.”
NINA DUCKED as the massive rock rolled over her head. Then she slid through the quickly narrowing space between the metal door and the stone floor, her hand outstretched, her fingers only millimeters away from the treasure.
Phone. Ringing.
She woke up with the theme from Raiders of the Lost Ark echoing in her head. For a moment, she didn’t remember where she was. Nothing looked right. Her bedroom faced the morning sun, and the windows in her apartment had white drapes, not blue shutters.
Bluebonnet Inn. Wyatt Colter. Bones.
She sat up, the sleepy haze gone from her brain, and picked up the phone.
“Hello?” she said, clearing her throat.
“Dr. Jacobson?” It was Todd, her student assistant who’d organized the spotlights the night before. She pulled her phone away from her ear and squinted at the display.
Nine o’clock. Hadn’t she set her telephone’s alarm for seven?
“Todd? Are you at the site?”
“Yep. Sorry to bother you and all, but it’s like nine o’clock.”
Nina pulled the band out of her hair and shook her head, stifling a yawn. “I know. Sorry. I must have forgotten to turn on my alarm. Send someone to pick me up. How much work have you gotten done?”
“Well, that deputy dude’s giving us a hard time. He’s pretty grouchy.”
“Shane Tolbert?”
“Nah, this is the guy who was here when we got here last night. Spears or something. We’ve got the ramp built to the edge of the yellow tape, but he won’t let us past there. We can’t get started on the platform until we can get inside the tape.”
Nina blew out a breath in frustration and threw back the bedclothes. “You tell him—No, wait.” She stopped. “I’ll call Sheriff Hardin and Lieutenant Colter.” Her gaze lit on her forensics kit. The samples. “Who’s still back at the school?”
“Nobody. Everybody’s here. I was hoping we’d have the platform built by now.”
“Good. But I need someone to help me process some evidence.” She didn’t even have to think about who she wanted. Julie Adams was her best lab student by far. “Send Julie to come and get me right now. The Bluebonnet Inn. Tell her it’s programmed into the navigation system on both SUVs. I’ll be ready. And hang in there, Todd. Prefab everything you can while you’re waiting. The sheriff or the lieutenant will call Deputy Spears in a few minutes.”
“Will do.”
“Todd, have you talked to Pete today?” She knew she’d successfully e-mailed the images of the three thigh bones to Pete at Texas State, but it would make her feel better to hear that he’d received them and forwarded them to the Ranger Forensics Lab.
“Nope.”
“Okay. I’ll check with him. Tell Julie to hurry. I’ll be waiting downstairs.” Nina hung up and washed her face, brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her hair, before anchoring it with a hair band. Jeans and a T-shirt and white athletic socks came next.
Then she picked up her cell phone again and checked the alarm. It was set to Silent. She growled under her breath. She never forgot things like that. But she’d had more excitement in the past twelve hours or so than she’d ever had in her life—ever.
She threw her cell phone and her camera into her purse, grabbed her forensics kit and her boots and headed downstairs in her stocking feet.
By the time she got to the bottom of the stairs, the smell of coffee and something heavenly and fresh baked filled her senses. She gazed longingly toward the dining room, but she didn’t have time for coffee, much less breakfast.
She headed for the front door.
“Morning, Nina.”
She turned toward the cheery voice. It was Betty Alice, with a steaming mug in her hand.
“Here. I poured you a cup of coffee. There’s sugar and cream on the sideboard in the dining room.”
Nina took a deep whiff. “I really don’t have time—”
“Of course you do. Now you go on in there and sit down.” Betty Alice guided her to a dining-room chair. “And give me those.”
Betty Alice took Nina’s boots, leaving her hand free to accept the mug of coffee, which it did seemingly without her permission.
Dear heavens, it smelled good.
“These boots are a disgrace. I’m going out to knock all this dried mud off of them.”
“Mrs
. Sadler, I really don’t—”
“Call me Betty Alice, dear. And eat a piece of cinnamon loaf.” She wagged her finger at Nina. “You’re way too skinny.”
With that she was gone. The screen door slammed behind her.
Nina saw a coffee carafe, cream and sugar, the cinnamon loaf, and a bowl of fruit sitting on the sideboard.
Maybe she could afford a few minutes for a mug of coffee. She set her forensics kit on a chair and fixed her coffee. She usually took it black, but the thick cream and the bowl full of raw sugar were too much of a temptation to ignore.
She took a long swallow. That first swallow of coffee was always her favorite moment of the day, but this was different—and way better. She couldn’t remember why she seldom take the time to really savor her coffee. It was a grave error, one that she was going to correct immediately.
Then she dug into the food.
By the time Betty Alice came in, Nina had eaten half a bowl of fruit and a slice of cinnamon loaf, and was about to finish her coffee.
“There you go, hon. Your boots are just inside the door, and it looks like you need another cup of coffee. Let me—”
“No,” Nina said firmly. “I really don’t have time. My student should be here any second.”
Betty Alice’s eyes lit up, and she took a quick breath, but Nina deflected it.
“Can you give me Sheriff Hardin’s phone number? I need to check with him on something.”
“Of course.”
As Betty Alice rattled off the number, Nina programmed it into her phone, then dialed it.
“Hardin,” he said briskly.
“Sheriff Hardin, this is Nina Jacobson. I just talked to one of my students. For some reason your deputy won’t allow them to construct the platform we talked about yesterday. He’s stopped them at the perimeter of the site—of the crime scene.”
“Did Lieutenant Colter authorize a platform?”
“Of course he did. It’s the only way we can gather evidence without destroying the site. You were there.”
“I didn’t hear anything about a platform. I’ll call Deputy Spears, but, Dr. Jacobson, when you need something from one of my employees, please have Lieutenant Colter ask for it.”
Nina’s ears burned at the sheriff’s tone, but she knew better than to argue. It would only waste breath, because she was sure she knew the reason Hardin insisted on having Wyatt contact him.
It was Wyatt’s rule.
“Yes, sir,” she snapped. “I’ll do that. Thank you.” She hung up and made a quick call back to Todd to let him know the sheriff was calling Deputy Spears.
When she hung up, Betty Alice stepped in front of her. “Before you go, I want to apologize. Lieutenant Colter asked me about fixing the broken chain on your door. You really should move into the pink room. It’s so much prettier, and all the locks are new.”
“No.” Nina wasn’t about to be separated from Wyatt. She liked being close enough to him to know when he got a phone call in the middle of the night. “No. The room I’m in is fine.”
“Nonsense. I don’t want you to be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous. But I did want to ask you who came into my room in the early morning hours, while we were at the grave site.”
“Why…no one.” But Betty Alice’s gaze wavered. “Why would you think that?”
She knows something.
“Someone was in my room while we were at the crime scene. Whoever it was looked at the photos in my camera. Who was here between four o’clock and six o’clock?”
Betty Alice laughed nervously. “Oh my. You sound like the policemen on Law & Order.”
Nina gazed at her steadily.
“My only other guest is a man who’s visiting his son at the community college.”
“Whoever went into my room had a key.”
Betty Alice’s cheeks turned red. “You know, now that I think about it, my niece came over to do some work on the wireless Internet service, but she wouldn’t—”
“At four o’clock this morning.”
“I don’t know. Oh, dear.” Tears started in her eyes.
“What is it?”
“I am so sorry. She’s only seventeen. I’m afraid she has a crush on Reed—Sheriff Hardin. Maybe, maybe she wanted to see if you had taken any photos of him.”
Nina eyed her suspiciously. Was she telling the truth? Or trying to cover up for someone? Nina decided not to push her. She might need Betty Alice’s cooperation. “No damage was done, but let her know that if anything else of mine or Lieutenant Colter’s is touched again, she could be charged with interfering with an investigation. Or, if you prefer, I could talk to her.”
Betty Alice’s eyes widened in shock. “No, please. I promise you she won’t go into either of your rooms again.”
“Good. Thank you.”
The innkeeper patted her cheeks with her palms. “Goodness. Let’s see. I was going to tell you something. Oh, I remember. While you’re gone today, I’ll get that chain fixed. And I’m sure the key to the connecting door between your room and the lieutenant’s is around here somewhere. Probably in one of my kitchen drawers.” She stopped, letting the words hang in the air.
To her surprise, Nina felt her own cheeks heat up. No matter what she said, Betty Alice was going to take it the wrong way. But she didn’t want that door locked. For some reason, she felt a lock would put more than a physical barrier between herself and Wyatt. He’d think she’d asked for it.
And truthfully, Nina liked the idea of being a mere wooden door away from Wyatt. Just so she could know what he was up to, of course.
“No.” Nina shook her head and smiled. “I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble.”
Betty Alice’s eyebrows rose. “I understand completely,” she murmured as she turned to refill Nina’s mug.
Nina opened her mouth to protest the woman’s assumption that there was something between her and Wyatt. But she’d started it, by insisting on staying next door to him. If she tried to explain the real reason she didn’t want to move, what would she say? That she was torn between blaming him for her friend’s disappearance and feeling as if his mere presence was enough to keep her safe from all harm?
She couldn’t even explain that to herself.
Chapter Nine
Males. Nina couldn’t make sense of them.
She glared at the two femurs laid out on the examining table in her makeshift lab.
She measured the head of the smaller thigh bone with the vernier caliper. The diameter, while less than that of the other bone, was still well within the testing parameters for males and quite a bit larger than the range established for females.
Of course, the ranges were averages. Still, it would take a very tall woman to have a thigh bone as large as the minimum assigned to males, and Marcie was only five-four.
Pulling down the lighted magnifying lamp, she studied the two bones. Judging by the fusion of the heads, it was obvious that both individuals had been well into their twenties. It would take more than a lone thigh bone to estimate the age any more closely.
Now if she had their skulls, she’d know the sex, age and possibly the race of each one. A more in-depth examination and the use of tables developed over years of study would even give her the time and possibly the cause of death.
Nina turned to the counter where her laptop was and quickly recorded her initial estimates of the sex and heights of the two victims.
Then she laid a yardstick next to each bone and photographed it. Referring to the latest version of long-bone indicators of height in humans, she estimated the height of the smaller man at five feet eight inches.
The second bone was longer. Nina’s calculations put him at five feet eleven inches.
As she typed that information into the computer, Nina’s heart and gut twisted. The evidence proved that neither of these bones was Marcie’s. And she was ninety-nine percent sure that the missing femur was the longest of the three—much too long to be her friend’s.
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She blew breath out in a long sigh. So who were the men whose bones she was studying? And where was Marcie?
She’d have to send scrapings to the lab to test nitrogen levels and fluorescence before she could pinpoint the men’s ages.
She turned back to her laptop and searched through e-mails, looking for the message she’d received from the forensic technician at the Ranger lab.
There it was. She printed it and its attachments. They were summaries of the medical records of Mason Lattimer, the antiques broker who’d disappeared from Comanche Creek five years before, and Ray Phillips, the Native American activist who’d gone missing a couple of years later.
She glanced over the first sheet, gleaning the pertinent facts. According to his medical records summary, at his last doctor’s visit, Mason Lattimer was forty-four years old and in excellent health, except for some osteoarthritis in his knees and hips, for which he took anti-inflammatory tablets.
The arthritis might help with identification, but almost everyone over forty had some evidence of degenerative bone disease.
She looked at the second sheet. The only medical record for Ray Phillips pertained to a ten-year-old visit to the health department for a tetanus shot. At the time he’d been nineteen. The nurse who’d administered the shot had noted no illnesses or injuries.
Nina sighed. Not much to go on.
“Why isn’t this door locked?”
The commanding voice cut through the air like a saber. Nina jumped and whirled.
Wyatt stood in the doorway.
“And why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“I’m busy,” she said shortly, turning back to the table. “How did you find me?”
He laughed shortly. “You weren’t at the crime scene, and you weren’t at the inn. It wasn’t much of a stretch to figure out the next most likely place. These doors should be locked.”
“It’s a community college. It has security. And, anyway, there’s someone around all the time.”
“There’s nobody here right now.”
She didn’t answer him. Her mind was still focused on the two cleaned thigh bones on the table.
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