“I do research. Adam has researchers working all over the country,” Nikki said.
Brad continued to look suspicious, and Leslie decided that he must be feeling proprietorial. A half hour earlier, he would have been certain he knew all her friends, and she suspected he wasn’t enjoying knowing he’d been wrong.
That guess proved to be correct. Down in the basement, the crates were ready, the tool boxes were open, and work had begun. Time had taken its bitter toll on the remains. Laymon had already given her a speech about how the removal of the bones should have been videotaped, but out of respect for her feelings, he had decided not to allow filming in the basement until after the remains had been taken away. After Nikki thanked him, he left to go back to the work he considered important, exploring the crypt. Leslie and Brad were busy at the delicate work of preparing the skeleton for removal. Down here, conditions hadn’t been kind. There were a few patches of hair on the skull and a few bits of fabric so blackened by time that they were barely identifiable as cotton.
“Are we test-tubing anything?” Brad asked her.
“No. Let’s just get her a real burial. Please?”
“You know, someone with more power could step in on top of us.”
“I have a feeling they won’t.”
“Because of your friend?”
“Adam, you mean?”
“Who is that guy?”
“An old friend.” Well, Adam was old, even if she hadn’t actually known him all that long.
“I see. He has that air about him.”
“What air?”
“Like a guy who speaks softly but somehow everyone knows he’s carrying a really big stick.”
Leslie shrugged. “He owns his own company, and he’s done work for the government.”
Brad laughed. “He doesn’t look like an assassin.”
“That’s because he’s not an assassin.”
“Then what does he do for the government?”
“Research.”
“What kind of research?”
“Historical, of course. Hand me that brush, please.”
“You’re evading me.”
“I’m telling you the honest-to-God truth,” she vowed.
He held the brush for a minute, looking at her suspiciously, before finally handing it over.
A few minutes later, as they worked in silence, Brad gasped.
“What?”
“There—on the floor.” He bent down to take a closer look. “I take it you won’t mind if we have this tested?”
“What is it?” she asked.
“The shot that killed her,” Brad said softly.
When Joe got to the site he was glad to find out that Laymon and Brad had already gone on to Hastings House to oversee the removal of the bones by the basement hearth. He didn’t want to see either one of them.
One of the workers directed him to the guard who had been on duty at the gate the day before. He remembered seeing Laymon early in the morning and Brad late in the afternoon.
He went on to question the grad students. They, too, had seen Laymon early and Brad late.
“How about Hank Smith? Was he around yesterday?” Joe asked two of the students, a married couple in their early thirties who had met as undergrads on a dig. It had been a life of digging in the dirt for the two of them ever since.
“Calvin Klein, you mean?” the husband asked with a grin. “The guy with the suits?”
“Right. Him.”
“He hangs around here a lot,” the wife said. “Well, he hangs around for a while, goes to his trailer, comes out, hangs around…who knows what he does?”
“But was he around yesterday?” Joe asked.
They looked at each other, thinking. “I get busy with a dig, and…” The husband lifted his hands apologetically.
“No,” the wife said decisively. “I know I didn’t see him. I actually look for him every day.”
“Wendy!” her husband said, surprised and hurt.
“It’s his clothes, Cal. I love to see what he’s going to wear next.”
“Were any of the cops around yesterday?” Joe asked.
They both stared at him. Cal cleared his throat. “Take a look around. There are always a ton of cops.”
“I’m thinking of Robert Adair, older guy, heavy, but all muscle. And the good-looking one who does the public speaking.”
“Did you see either of them?” Wendy asked Cal.
“I don’t think so,” Cal said.
“I’m not sure about the older guy, but I didn’t see the good-looking one.”
“You’re sure?” Joe asked.
“I would have noticed,” Wendy said.
“Oh, so it’s not just the clothes?” Cal asked wryly.
Joe left them to their friendly bickering and went on, still trying to put the pieces together in his mind.