Lamb’s head whipped around, and I followed his eyes to a clumsy pile by the figure’s femur. “They’re back?” He hurried to the formerly missing fossils and began to meticulously lay them out again.
“I was just going to tell you,” said Mr. Bradley, stepping out from behind Hank. “The canvas was pulled up over on that end while I was working. Someone tossed them in and then ran off. Never saw who it was. Nobody was there when I peeked under. I was heading out the front when this . . . um . . . gentleman came rushing in.” He nodded toward Hank Hudson. Next to the trapper, the slim fellow looked like a sapling beside a redwood.
“The return of the bones changes nothing,” Lamb spat. “That degenerate Horner is obviously still to blame. He must have panicked once he saw that the police were sticking around. Not that you’ve been any help at all. If that criminal is not locked away by the morning, you’d better believe your superiors will be hearing from me.”
“Mr. Lamb,” Charlie said evenly. “You know there is no proof . . .”
“You have two damned detectives!” Lamb waved an arm in our general direction, faltering somewhat as he glanced between my employer and me. “Or what apparently pass for detectives in this backwater valley. Find some proof before he makes off with anything else. And while you’re at it, an invaluable artifact remains missing.” He was right. The dragon’s wicked jawline was still broken by a distinct gap.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The theft of the bones from under all of our noses had been bad enough, but their return was all the more vexing—they added a baffling layer to the mystery without solving anything. Were they connected to the murders at all? What could be worth killing for, but not worth keeping?
Jackaby hiked back and forth between the footprints and the fossils, scowling at the earth and muttering to himself. With the last of the daylight fading, Nellie Fuller carried her camera up the rocky hill, and was already loading a plate into the slot before Lamb sent his goons to stop her. Mr. Murphy snatched up the tripod and tromped righteously down the slope with Nellie on his heels, while Mr. Bradley stood guard resolutely in the entrance.
Charlie asked both paleontologists to consent to a search of their belongings, which nearly set Lamb off again, and which Horner simply refused out of spite. By dusk, nothing had been accomplished and everyone was exhausted.
Hudson had quickly tired of all the drama, turning his attention to the surrounding wilderness instead. The massive prints might have been fakes, but he was not ready to rule out a real wild creature making off with the tooth. He had not returned by the time the sun began to dip low in the sky.
Lamb’s crew set up cots directly on the dig site, and Brisbee invited Miss Fuller to stay the night in the spare room of the farmhouse.
“When you promised me an unbelievable story,” she said, “I didn’t realize you meant it literally. I’ll be laughed out of the newsroom if I go back pitching ‘Dragon in the Dirt’ without the proof to back it up. This may be the scoop of the century, but I’ll sleep a lot easier once I’ve got a clean photograph to bring back with me.”
“I’m sure you’ll get some good pictures tomorrow,” he assured her. “Once everyone’s had a little time to sleep on it.”
“I’m sure that I will, Mr. Brisbee,” she said. “I’ve been to the Arctic and the Orient and back again, and I never missed a deadline. Don’t think for a moment that a dirty tarp and a grumpy old man will stop me from snatching my story from the top of that hill.”
“That’s the spirit.” He punctuated his enthusiasm with a clap. “I’ll go set you up some blankets and get your room all sorted. You come on up when you’re ready.”
Owen Horner sidled up as Brisbee was bustling off into the house. “Let me get that for you, beautiful,” he said. Nellie allowed him to collect her suitcase and camera equipment.
“Be careful with that,” she said as he scooped up a tall wooden box.