O’Dell was thinking the same thing and could only imagine the force of the water knocking both of them off their feet. Although she had helped recover bodies from stranger places. This landscape reminded her of a past crime scene with dissected bodies stuffed into fifty-five-gallon drums, then buried in a rock quarry.
There were no manuals that dictated recovery instructions for many of the scenes she had helped process, so Dr. Gunther’s complaint about “inappropriate” seemed a bit silly to O’Dell. But she also knew that coroners and medical examiners were oftentimes precise and detail-minded, with more experience in the laboratory than in the field.
“We were instructed to secure and assist,” Ross defended his team.
“Of course you were.” The woman’s irritation bit through her stoic demeanor.
She glanced up at O’Dell. “Well, Mr. Logan’s boss told me that you are in charge of this recovery operation. How would you suggest we proceed?”
O’Dell looked out over the rushing water. In several areas it had carved deep crevices in the mud. Downhill it widened and she could see debris riding on the surface. Branches tangled with electrical wire passed by.
Uphill it was impossible to determine where the stream began. The fog was too thick. But one thing she knew for sure—it didn’t look like it would be slowing down to a trickle anytime soon. As if to emphasize that fact she heard a low rumble of thunder in the distance. She could feel Dr. Gunther staring at her. The guardsmen waited patiently for her reply and instruction.
“We’ll wait for Mr. Creed and his dog. If they can give us a smaller area to search, we’ll still need to stop the water or divert it.” She sought out Ross’s attention. “There must be some sort of equipment you have available that can send the water in a bit of a detour?”
He held up his cell phone and said, “I can check.”
“Yes, do that, please.” Then to Dr. Gunther, O’Dell pointed at the tent and said, “Let’s take a look at the remains that are not underwater.”
The older woman nodded and started a slow limp in that direction. Ross finished his text and followed. O’Dell fell into step alongside him this time.
“You’ve seen these remains?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Her title is agent,” Dr. Gunther corrected him without turning to look back.
Ross looked to O’Dell and she simply ignored the comment and continued, “What equipment do we have to recover this body?”
“I was told to bring shovels and trowels. We have tarps and several body bags.”
O’Dell heard Dr. Gunther making a tsk-tsk sound while she shook her head. Obviously she was not pleased. Again, Ross noticed and his eyes darted back to O’Dell, looking for instruction or absolution. She wasn’t quite sure which.
O’Dell ignored the woman’s reaction a second time and simply trudged through the mud. She had brought her own backpack with items she’d anticipated needing, including a digital camera, rubber gloves, and evidence bags. She imagined Dr. Gunther’s satchel held whatever she expected she’d need.
All four sides of the tent were screened in. Ross unzipped the door and held the flap open for the two women. The floor was uneven ground—or rather tamped-down mud—but other than removing the bigger pieces of debris, O’Dell imagined the rescue crew had left the scene the way they’d found it. The guardsmen had pitched the tent as carefully as possible so as not to disturb what was covered by a tarp in the center of the area.
Dirty water pooled between creases in the black plastic. Underneath, O’Dell could see additional pools. The body and tarp had been left in the rain until the tent could be set up.
O’Dell shrugged out of her backpack, found her digital camera, and took a few shots of the scene before they disturbed it. Then she nodded for Ross to remove the tarp.
He lifted the corner, slow and easy, folding it over to let the water run off and away. The pile of dirt underneath looked unremarkable, pocked with rock and gravel. The hole was only a foot in diameter. Even with the screened walls it was difficult to see because of the thick fog and cloud cover. Dr. Gunther pulled a flashlight from her satchel and turned it on. As Ross uncovered the hole, she shot a stream of light into the shallow depths.
She stopped at the blue-gray skin washed clean by the rain before the rescue crew had covered it. At first glance O’Dell didn’t recognize that it was part of a face until the light flicked over the chin, lips, and then an eye looking straight up at them.
“Oh, my good Lord,” the woman said, taking a step back so quickly she almost stumbled.
O’Dell reached out to help steady her, but Dr. Gunther waved her off again. This time she looked embarrassed about her reaction. O’Dell watched her take a deep breath, then step forward. She moved in closer, pointing the beam of light back down the hole. And before she could control it, O’Dell saw her wince.
At that moment all O’Dell could think was that this was not going to be quite as simple as Benjamin Platt had made it sound.
30.