“What are you looking for?”
“Checking for prints.”
“The ground looks pretty hard—” Wyatt began just as she uttered a triumphant murmur.
“There.” She aimed her flashlight at a point about eighteen inches in front of her.
Wyatt saw the faint edge of what appeared to be a boot print. A large one.
“Hold this.” She handed him her flashlight and retrieved a tape measure from her pocket. After placing the tape alongside the print, she snapped several photos.
“Can you get a casting of that? We could compare it with the print from the crime scene.”
“I don’t think so. The ground’s too dusty. But we can compare the boot size. This one appears to be a size twelve.” She pocketed the tape measure and pushed herself to her feet and dusted her hands together.
Size twelve. The shoe size of Tolbert, Daniel Taabe, Deputy Spears and who knew how many others in town. With the ground that dusty, there would be no way to see any details of the boot’s sole.
“What about the bone?” he asked.
Her mouth flattened, and she gave a small shake of her head.
Wyatt’s pulse sped up. She’d figured something out about the bone, and she wasn’t happy about it.
As if to confirm his conclusion, her fist tightened around the lanyard attached to her camera.
“I’ll show you,” she said and stalked toward his vehicle.
NINA HEADED TOWARD WYATT’S Jeep Liberty. She’d done her best to hang on to her professional detachment, but what she’d found in the back of Daniel Taabe’s truck had her heart still pounding and her palms clammy with shock and fear.
“Deputy Spears had already photographed and bagged them,” she said, reaching for the back door.
She threw the door open and stepped back.
Wyatt glanced at her sidelong. “What’s wrong, Professor?” he asked as he played the flashlight beam over the bags sitting on the backseat.
She scraped her teeth over her lower lip, not trusting herself to speak.
After a few seconds of scrutiny, Wyatt bent and studied the contents of the bags. “That hatchet could match Tolbert’s head wound.”
Nina didn’t answer.
“What’s that?” Wyatt asked, zeroing in on the second bag. “That’s not the missing thigh bone.” A camera flash sent a dark shadow along the sharp, tense line of Wyatt’s jaw.
“No, it’s not.”
He turned the flashlight toward her. “Nina?”
She swallowed. “It’s a pelvic bone. From a female.”
“A female.”
For a moment neither of them spoke, but to Nina, it was as if someone were screaming into a loudspeaker.
A female pelvic bone. Was it Marcie’s? Wyatt cleared his throat. “Is it from the crime scene?”
“The mud is consistent.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“I can’t afford to jump to any conclusions.” But she already had. And they terrified her. “I need to get it back to the lab and test it.”
Again, the silence between them was deafening.
Finally Wyatt nodded. “And I need to take Taabe in and question him.”
“You’re going to arrest him? You think he attacked Shane? Why would he call the sheriff to report finding the hatchet if he’s the one who attacked him?”
“Maybe he’s trying to throw suspicion off himself. It’s a common mistake that guilty people make.”
“I don’t see him as violent. He seems to be more about peace than trouble.” She looked over her shoulder. Taabe was talking calmly with Sheriff Hardin. “Who’s the woman? She’s beautiful.”
Wyatt grunted noncommittally. “Ellie Penateka. Hardin tells me she’s very active in the Native American community. Apparently she’s leading a petition to reclaim Comanche land in this area. She’s campaigning to get a casino built here.”
“She’s also campaigning to get Daniel Taabe,” Nina muttered.
“What do you mean?” Wyatt asked.
“Just look at them. They’re trying to act as if nothing’s going on, but look at that body language.”
“So you’re an expert on the language of the body, as well as of the skeleton?”
His voice was close to her ear—too close. She got a whiff of sharp, sweet mint, and a sense that he knew how uncomfortable he was making her.
“It doesn’t take an expert to know when two people are that attracted to each other,” she said. “Look how she’s standing. She’s completely open to him. And he’s the same way. I’d bet you a month’s salary they’re lovers. Or if not yet, they soon will be.”
“Not a bet I’m willing to take,” he muttered just as a camera flash blinded her.
“What the hell?” Wyatt said, stepping away from her. “Spears, what are you doing?”
“Sorry, sir. That was an accident,” replied the deputy.
Nina blinked, trying to get rid of the after-burn inside her eyelids.
“Are you done with Taabe’s truck?” Wyatt asked him.
Reed Hardin walked over. “We’re just about to take it in, Lieutenant. We’ve got a small fenced parking lot behind the office. We’ll keep it there.”
“Good. I’ll bring Taabe in,” Wyatt announced.
“You think that’s necessary? He’s not going anywhere,” Hardin said.
Wyatt nodded. “I want to question him before he has a chance to get his story together.”
Hardin sent Wyatt an odd look. “Daniel Taabe has had his story together all his life.”
Nina listened to the two of them while Deputy Spears handed her the bags of evidence that he’d collected.
“Dr. Jacobson?” Spears said. “Is that everything? Do you need me to explain my notes?”
“I don’t think so, Kirby. Everything appears to be pretty self-explanatory. You’ve got the swabs labeled and the fingerprint sheets. And it looks like you did a good job with the hatchet and the bone.”
Spears seemed to swell up. “Thank you, ma’am. I mean Dr. Jacobson.”
“I’ll call you if I have any questions,” Nina told him.
“Okay. Good.” The deputy stuck his hands in his pants pockets, then pulled them out again. “Well, I need to drive Daniel’s truck back to town. I’ll—I’ll wait to hear from you. I mean, I hope I don’t. Because I hope I did everything right, but—”
“Thank you, Deputy,” said Nina. “I just need your camera, so I can send the images to the Ranger lab for processing.”
“Uh…” Spears sent a look toward Hardin.
“It’s all right,” Nina reassured him. “I’m holding the chain of custody. I’ll give you a written receipt.”
Spears handed the camera over to her.
“Thank you,” she said to Hardin. “I’ll get you copies—”
“Let’s go,” Wyatt snapped.
Nina jumped. He’d walked up behind her. He didn’t wait for her to acknowledge that she was ready to go. He just rounded the front of the Jeep and got in the driver’s seat.
She opened the passenger door. “As soon as I put the evidence bags in my kit.”
“Hurry up.”
She deposited the bags the deputy had given her into the metal evidence kit, and closed and locked it. Then she checked the bone and the hatchet again, telling herself she was being careful, but knowing that she might be goading Wyatt a bit. He deserved it, ordering her around like that.
Finally she closed the back door and climbed in the passenger side. She’d barely gotten her door closed and her seat belt on before he pulled away in a spray of dirt and limestone gravel.
“What is wrong with you?” she cried. “The bone could fall off the seat, the way you’re driving.”
“You should have secured it better.”
She understood at least part of why he was agitated. She felt the same way. Ever since she’d first laid eyes on the pelvic bone, her chest had been tight with tension, and tears had been pushing closer and closer to th
e surface.
The bone had belonged to a female. And as every anthropologist knew, the pelvic bone was the definitive feature distinguishing male from female.
She now had a bone that could be Marcie’s.
It was taking all her strength not to give in to her emotional side, so she certainly wasn’t going to be drawn into his little tantrum.
After a few seconds, he muttered something.
“What?” she asked.
“I said I hate small towns.”
She bit her cheek, trying not to smile and appreciating the momentary diversion. “I don’t care for them, either. You can never find a decent yoga class or a really good cappuccino.”
He growled.
She bit her cheek again. “What happened?”
His hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel, and the irritation and frustration radiated from him in waves. “Sheriff Hardin didn’t think it was necessary to arrest Taabe.” Disgust colored his words.
“I suspect he’s right. Arresting Daniel could stir up a lot of trouble in town.”
Another growl.
“I take it you don’t agree.”
His shoulders moved in a shrug. “I don’t like delays.”
“Ah, yes. I recall. Or people who disagree with you.” She cringed, fully expecting him to squeeze the steering wheel hard enough to break it, but to her surprise, he consciously relaxed his hands, and his jaw even quit bulging quite so much. “What’s your rush to arrest Daniel Taabe? Just what do you think he will do tonight if he’s not in jail? Head for the border?”
He didn’t answer.
“Want to know what I think he’ll be doing tonight?”
Wyatt sent her a quick, quelling glance. “No.”
“I think he and Ellie Penateka—”
“I said no.”
“Okay, but I guarantee you Daniel Taabe will still be here tomorrow for you to question to your heart’s content. Do you want to know why?”
“No.”
“Because he and Ellie are in love.”
Wyatt scowled at her. “And you know that.”
“I told you earlier, it’s obvious in their body language. Not to mention they can’t take their eyes off each other.”
He frowned, as if he wanted to ask her something, but he didn’t. He drove in silence, while Nina turned her attention back to the digital photos Spears had taken.
“Kirby did a good job,” she said finally.
“Kirby?”
“Deputy Spears. I mean, he must have taken three shots of each drop of blood, but at least he erred on the side of thoroughness.”
“What about fingerprints? Did he find any?”
“There are some, but I’ll need to send them to the lab to be matched. Of course, Daniel’s will be all over, and depending on how long it took him to notice the bags in the backseat, he might have smeared or destroyed any new prints.”
She kept thumbing through the photos. She squinted at a close-up of the pelvic bone. Was there something odd about the bone’s surface? Or was it just a trick of the light?
She opened her mouth to tell Wyatt to take her to the lab so she could get started on testing it tonight, but at that moment the last shot Kirby had taken came up.
The one he’d accidentally snapped of her and Wyatt.
Oh, no, she gasped to herself. Then she went totally still, holding her breath. Had she said that out loud? Wyatt didn’t react, so she must not have.
It was a wonder that she hadn’t, because what she was staring at was a photo of the two of them, and they could be a dead ringer for Taabe and Ellie.
She and Wyatt were standing close together. Wyatt’s head was bent toward hers. His expression was hot, even passionate, and his posture was open, powerful, protective.
She was leaning toward him, her neck slightly arched, as if opening herself to his kiss.
That wasn’t what they’d been doing, but judging by the picture, it could have been.
What she’d told him about Taabe and Ellie echoed in her brain. I’d bet you a month’s salary they’re lovers. Or if not yet, they soon will be. She moaned silently.
“What?”
She jumped. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did.”
She turned off the camera. “Take me to the lab at the college.”
“No. It’s too late.”
“I want to look at this bone. There’s something odd about it.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Hey, cowboy, you’re the one who said you didn’t like delays.”
He turned onto the road that led to the Bluebonnet Inn. “And you pointed out that I don’t like people who disagree with me. So why do you keep doing it?”
“To irritate you?” she snapped.
“That would be my guess,” he shot back.
She looked at her watch. “It’s only…Oh.”
“It’s only what time?”
She bit her lip. “Almost midnight.”
“Right. Still want to start a whole new set of tests?”
“Actually, yes. I don’t have to tell you what it means that this pelvis is from a female.”
“Are you positive that it came from the crime scene?”
She glared at his profile. “It’s a bone, it’s got mud smeared all over it and it showed up with a bloody hatchet that matches Shane’s description of the weapon in his attack.”
Wyatt stopped the Jeep in front of the inn and killed the engine. He turned and gazed at her steadily.
“Okay. I can’t say for certain, not without the tests. Which is why I want to go to the lab.” She tried to suppress a yawn but wasn’t successful.
“See? You can’t start all that testing tonight. You’re exhausted. You’d probably screw up the tests. I need to take you upstairs and put you to bed.”
He looked at her, his blue eyes twinkling, and a hot thrill coursed through her at the idea of him lifting her in his arms and carrying her upstairs like Rhett Butler.
She swallowed, and the twinkle in his eyes faded, replaced by an intensity she hadn’t seen before—not even when he was ready to throttle Sheriff Hardin for refusing to arrest Taabe.
He looked like…
She swallowed. He looked like he did in the photo. Hot, powerful, passionate.
Something caught and started to burn deep inside her. She lifted her chin just slightly. For an indefinable time they stared at each other.
Then Wyatt blinked and opened the driver’s-side door.
“Tomorrow,” he said gruffly.
Chapter Twelve
By the time Nina was ready for bed, she could barely hold her eyes open. She yawned and looked longingly at the turned-down covers. But her brain was still churning.
She had so much evidence and so few answers. And now a female pelvic bone had been added to the mix.
If it was Marcie’s…
She couldn’t go there. Just like Wyatt had reminded her, nothing was certain until she had the test results.
Test results. Her gaze snapped to her laptop. She needed to check her e-mail in case the forensics lab had sent her the results of the DNA comparison of the hair found at the crime scene.
Within a few seconds she was watching, her heart in her throat, as her new messages downloaded.
And there it was. Sender? The Ranger Forensics lab.
It was short. No wasted words. Attached please find…
Nina opened the attachment and scanned it quickly. Professional and to the point, and precisely what she’d expected.
She’d written several reports just like this, without once thinking about the real, grieving people on the receiving end of the information. Never again, though. She would never be able to stare at a set of remains again without remembering the grief that flooded her heart this minute.
Or the sense of loneliness.
A tear slid from her eye and rolled down her cheek. She wasn’t a forensic anthropologist—not right now. She was a grieving friend. A quick swi
pe with her fingers got rid of the tear, but not the weight of sadness.
She turned and looked at the closed door that separated her from Wyatt, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She needed to tell him; he needed to know.
It was as important to him as it was to her. Maybe more. After all, he was responsible.
Wasn’t he? As much as Nina needed someone to blame, the longer she knew Wyatt, the harder it was to blame him.
She knocked on the door between their rooms. When he didn’t answer right away, she was afraid he’d already gone to sleep. Should she wake him? She knocked again, lightly, then turned the knob, fully expecting the room to be dark.
But the soft glow of the bedside lamp lit the room—the empty room.
Too late, Nina recognized the warm scent of steam and bleached towels and soap.
She needed to get out of here—now.
Then the bathroom door opened, and there he was, right in front of her, dressed in nothing but briefs, with a towel hanging from one hand.
He was scowling, but as soon as his gaze met hers, his expression changed. “What’s the matter, Professor? You okay?”
“I shouldn’t have…” Nina stumbled over her words. “It can wait.” She took a step backward.
“Hang on!” He grabbed the pair of sweatpants that were slung over the back of a chair and pulled them on. Then in one stride, he was at her side. “Now, what is it? Did you hear something? Has someone been in your room again?”
She shook her head. “I—I just checked my e-mail. The results are back on the hair.”
“Yeah?”
Nina heard the fear and anticipation in his voice. He was as anxious to know the results as she had been.
And he’d be just as devastated.
She took a deep breath, filled with the odor of fresh clean skin and soap. She scraped her lower lip with her teeth and felt cool air on her cheek as another tear spilled over. “The DNA from the hair was a match with Marcie’s. No question.”
His gaze narrowed. After an instant of unnatural stillness, he brushed his fingers tenderly across her cheek. The slight touch sent a sweet, sad ache through her.
“We expected that,” he murmured.
She squeezed her eyelids shut, trying to stop any more tears. Of course, it did no good. “I know,” she whispered. “It’s just hard.”
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