The remains were human, and buried over four feet down.
I squatted for an up close look at the skull.
"Oh Jesus!"
I pointed at a small hole centered in the forehead. The defect was sharp-edged and circular.
"Holy shit. Is that a bullet hole?" asked Ben.
"I think so." My voice trembled slightly.
The boys watched as I eyeballed the skeleton from top to bottom.
"There's no trauma on any of the other bones. I'll try to determine gender."
"How?" Hi asked.
Lying sideways in the dirt, I observed the right pelvic blade. "The overall shape is broad." I twisted my head so I could see the belly side of the bone. "The pubic portion is long, and the angle below, where the right half meets the left, is shaped like a U, not a V. Those are all female traits."
Recalling a tip from Aunt Tempe's book, I searched for the sciatic notch. Without displacing the bone, I stuck my thumb inside. It had plenty of room for wiggling.
An emphatic groan from the boys.
"Don't be babies," I said. "Sometimes you have to touch the bones."
"Well?" Ben asked.
"Female."
"How old was she?" Shelton was sounding maybe a hair calmer.
Crawling to the skull, I noted the sutures, the thin, squiggly lines between the individual bones. The ones I could see were wide open.
I peeked into the mouth.
"Healthy dentition. Wisdom teeth not fully erupted."
I moved back down the torso. "Little caps at the ends of the long bones solidify as growth is completed. It's called epiphyseal fusion. The cap of her femur hasn't fused completely. Same with the clavicle."
"The what?" Ben aked.
"The collarbone." Shelton and Hi, in unison.
"From what I can see without moving anything," I said, "she was young."
"How young?" Hi.
"Less than twenty years old." I felt numb.
"Like Katherine Heaton," Shelton whispered.
Attaching a name to the bones made the tragedy real. This wasn't an experiment, an adventure for a group of high school science junkies. I was kneeling in the lonely, unmarked grave of a young woman.
A teenager long ago murdered, buried, and forgotten.
"It's time to call the cops." Hi's voice held not a trace of humor.
I nodded. "The sun is setting. Take as many pictures as you can before dark."
Ben, Shelton, and I started gathering equipment. I was pulling a trowel from the earth when I heard a soft clink.
And knew right away.
Sifting dirt with my fingers, I discovered what my blade had struck.
"Holy Hell."
The others turned to look.
"This should close the loop." I held my find high. It glinted in the long ginger rays of the setting sun.
A second dog tag, twin to the one in my pocket.
Legible.
Francis P. Heaton.
The last light of day faded to gray.
I wanted to cry. To open the floodgates and unleash a torrent of sobs. But I wouldn't. Not in this lifetime. Not ever.
Clamping my jaw, I backhanded a tear from my cheek. I added the newly unearthed tag to my Ziploc, and started shoving tools into the duffel. Stakes. String. A shovel. A trowel.
The boys were uncomfortable in the way males are when confronted by female emotion. Unsure how to react, what to say, they simply ignored me.
Sorrow coursed through my body. Katherine Heaton was dead. I'd uncovered her bones. There would be no magical happy ending.
Inevitably, the sorrow congealed into fury. Then hardened into resolve.
The crime was official: murder most foul. Now it was time to expose the murderer.
I vowed silently, speaking to Katherine. Someone will pay for this outrage. Four decades of time will make no difference. Justice will prevail.
My promise was cut short.
Men with guns had come to kill us.
CHAPTER 25
"You guys hear that?" Shelton asked.
"Hear what?" Hi froze, iPhone extended toward the pit.
"Listen."
Everyone went still, ears sifting the forest sounds. Night had fallen. My eyes weren't ready. I could barely see beyond my hand.
At first, nothing but crickets, frogs, the whine of a mosquito.
Then a familiar riot of hoots and barks.
As my vision adjusted, I noticed movement among the branches at the clearing's edge.
"Something spooked the monkeys," Ben said.
The primates scurried through the trees, panicked, uncertain of the source of danger. Young males barked and lunged in our direction, then turned and performed for the forest at their backs.
"They seem confused," Hi noted.
"The males are giving threat displays," I said. "But they don't know where to direct them."
"Threatened by what?" Ben asked.
"Can we please get out of here?" Shelton had definitely had enough. "It's pitch dark, monkeys are screaming at us, and we're standing next to an open grave."
"Calm down," Ben said. "I brought a flashlight--"
Clank. Clank.
"What was that?" I whispered.
The noise was not natural to the forest. Somewhere close by metal had struck metal.
"The dogs?" Hi sounded almost as hyper as Shelton. "Somewhere nearby?"
"No," I whispered. "We'd never hear the pack moving through the trees. And what could they clang?"
Swish.
Thwak!