I snuck into Mr. J’s office. He was rarely in it, unless he had to retrieve a tool or a cleaning solution. A school of this size kept him hopping. He could probably use part-time help, but I think they’d spent all that money on the metal detector. People had panicked big-time after the last school shooting, and, really, who could blame them?
I snatched a shovel—Mr. J did all the gardening too—and hurried to the apple tree that swayed at the very edge of the property. Lucky for me it was on the gymnasium side of the school. No windows. Not that I couldn’t have explained away my behavior as a treasure hunt or some other kindergartenesque project. But I’d rather not.
I contemplated the circle of earth around the tree. Under the apple tree could mean anywhere, and I didn’t have the time.
“West side.” Henry materialized. He had to duck or get a branch through his brain. I wondered if that would hurt.
“Here.” He pointed to the foot of the tree.
I started to dig. “How do you know that?”
“The property line is…” He sliced his hand across the tree.
I didn’t bother to ask how he knew where the property line ran. All that mattered was the digging.
“The boy was buried on school grounds, which is why he’s attached to the place.”
The first few shovelfuls weren’t easy to remove. The grass was thick and the ground was dry. But after that, things got easier. If you call tiny pieces of bone tumbling from the earth easier.
“You should probably use your hands now,” Henry said. I glanced up. “You don’t want to break the skull.”
I dropped the shovel.
The idea of using my hands, of touching a skull, made me a bit woozy, but I did it. I had to. I couldn’t just leave him there.
My fingertips met something solid, and I yanked them back.
“Go on,” Henry urged.
I brushed away the dirt from the slightly rounded protuberance. If I’d just been digging, for whatever reason I might do such a thing, I’d have thought I’d found a rock. In seconds the skull of a child emerged in the bottom of a hollow; bone fragments littered the overturned dirt. I sat on my heels, rubbed a thumb gently over the crack in the skull.
“Oh, Stafford,” I whispered.
“Is that a skull?”
Chapter 23
Raye snatched her hand out of the hole. She glanced to the right of the apple tree before lifting her gaze to Bobby’s. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Someone died.”
“I figured that out for myself.” He went onto his knees at her side, careful not to disturb anything. “That’s a kid-sized skull.”
It also had a kid-sized fracture. He’d seen enough of them to know.
“Why did you dig it up?” he asked.
“Someone had to.”
“And it was you because…?”
She didn’t answer.
“How did you know to dig here?” He remembered what she’d said as he walked up. “Is that Stafford?”
“Yes.”
She seemed pretty certain, which made Bobby nervous. How would she know who it was and where it was unless …
His mind shied away from the rest of that sentence. There had to be another explanation.
“Did someone confess to you where he was?”
“Confess?” she repeated.
“The kid has a skull fracture. Whether it was an accident or on purpose, the fact remains that someone buried him where he shouldn’t be buried.”
“We have to put him to rest.” She reached for the bones. He grabbed her hands.
“You shouldn’t touch anything more than you have already.”
“Right.” She set her hands on her knees, but she remained where she was.
“I have to call the chief.”
Raye nodded.
“Is there anything you want to tell me before I do?”
She shook her head.
“Raye, he’s gonna ask how you knew that kid was buried here.”
“I just—”
“You didn’t just know. The only person who ‘just knew’ would be the one who put him there.”
Her forehead furrowed. “You think I did?”
He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, tempted to yank it out. “I don’t. No.” Anyone who’d seen her with children couldn’t think that. Then again, he’d been hoodwinked before. “But others will.”
“I was going to bury a prize for a treasure hunt, and I found him.”
He bit the inside of his lip. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Raye.” He pulled out his cell, dialed Chief Johnson. “Not only do you have no prize to bury, but it doesn’t explain why you think you know who that is.”
After informing Johnson of what was going on, Bobby did the same with Mrs. Hansen. She handled the news with fewer hysterics than expected. Or at least fewer hysterics than Jenn had showed when she was told she’d have to stay with Raye’s class for the rest of the day.
“It’s only an hour until school’s out,” Mrs. Hansen said.
“But they’re awake!” The emphasis Jenn put on the final word carried all the horror of an ingénue in a zombie flick.
They’re alive!