Tattoos were often valuable in identifying a corpse. Ink pooled deep into the dermis, so even during decomposition if the epidermis had been shed, the tattoo actually showed up more brilliantly. But O’Dell expected this one might simply indicate that the victim had served in the military.
Dr. Gunther stopped suddenly. Again she grabbed the flashlight with an urgency that warranted surprise. But again the woman remained silent and O’Dell was growing impatient. Was she not sharing her thoughts because O’Dell was an outsider? A federal agent?
“What is it?” she finally asked.
But now O’Dell saw what had grabbed the doctor’s interest. Lower on the arm, close to the elbow, the skin bubbled up. Mean streaks of red-brown imprinted the areas in between.
“Burns?” O’Dell asked.
The doctor looked up at her and nodded. “Maybe chemical burns,” she said.
O’Dell’s eyes darted around the area outside the screened-in tent. If the chemicals were still present, would they have smelled them? And why in the world had they not been warned?
“Are you talking about chemicals leaked because of the landslide?”
“No, no. At least I don’t believe so.” The woman shook her head. “These would be serious chemicals administered to this individual to cause such a severe reaction. Most likely toxic.”
“Should we be in hazmat suits?”
But again Dr. Gunther shook her head. She switched off the flashlight and struggled to her feet. She swatted at the dirt on the knees of her trousers before glancing back up at O’Dell. And when she did, O’Dell caught a glimpse of something beyond anger in her gray eyes. Something that resembled fear.
“What is it? What are you thinking?” O’Dell prodded.
The woman was packing up her equipment as she said, “I think we need to have our young men here dig out this body as best they can and wrap him up. I’ll want to take a better look at him after I can clean him up somewhere other than this hole in the ground.”
“But should we be concerned about touching him?”
She stopped and looked to be pondering this, then she shrugged and said, “I have no idea. Perhaps you need to ask your Mr. Logan.” And she started packing again.
“He’s not my Mr. Logan,” O’Dell spit out, reacting more than thinking. She wanted to tell Dr. Gunther that she had never met or spoken to the man. But it wouldn’t matter to the woman. Instead she asked, “What about the body underwater?”
“Have them bag it up as well.”
“That’s it?”
“This is not the scene of the crime,” the woman told her. “What happened to these poor men didn’t happen here.”
“Can you tell me, at least, where he might have gotten those burns?”
“I might have more for you after I’ve had a chance to examine him.” She waved her arms to indicate their makeshift surroundings. “I cannot do that here.”
Before O’Dell could disagree, Dr. Gunther was calling to Ross and explaining how she wanted him to proceed. She didn’t even hesitate to check with O’Dell as she had earlier. Something had spooked the woman about the wounds, and O’Dell knew she wasn’t going to get any answers right now.
Dr. Gunther finished stashing her gear, her small hands moving quickly, dipping in and out of the pockets of her satchel. Without another word, she left on the same path they had used to come there—this time on the arm of a guardsman. O’Dell noticed the limp was more pronounced in her attempt to hurry away, as though she no longer had time or need to disguise the vulnerability.
As she watched the woman disappear into the fog, O’Dell could see the shape of a man coming up the incline. She caught a glimpse of the dog at his side and she felt an annoying flutter. But as he got closer she noticed the right sleeve of his jacket flapping in the breeze. It wasn’t Ryder Creed.
34.
Is Ryder okay?” O’Dell asked Jason as she petted Bolo. “I heard he got caught in a slide yesterday.”
“Oh, he got caught, all right. Completely buried. They thought they’d lost him.”
He must have seen her look of concern despite her best attempt to hide it. He quickly added, “He looks like hell. May have broken a few ribs. Otherwise, I guess he’s okay. He took Grace to look for an old woman who got lost in the storm.”
O’Dell thought of Dr. Gunther again. Was this case simply too much for her? Was she in over her head?
“So you’re stuck with Bolo and me.”
She glanced at him and noticed a defensive stance. O’Dell had worked with Jason and Creed just a month ago to locate a crime scene in the backwoods of Alabama. She knew the young veteran was capable, though he was still learning. If Mr. Logan wanted top-notch professionals he should have come to supervise himself. At this point, she’d take what she could get.