A Rumor of Bones: A Lindsay Chamberlain Mystery (15 page)

"You did this!" Ronald shouted. "You have this all
figured out!"

"No, son," Derrick said. "I'm just good at math"

Frank turned his back a moment to suppress a smile.
Even Ned looked amused. Frank ordered Thomas, Jim,
and Alan to get the mattresses from the lab.

Derrick turned to Ronald, pulled his sunglasses
down so he could look over the rim, and said, "I'll be
back." He turned and walked toward his tent.

Derrick returned with his bow and several arrows
tipped with large, steel hunting arrowheads. Thomas,
Alan, and Jim placed the mattresses where Derrick
ordered, and they all stood back.

"You can't do this. If it breaks, you're going to
have to pay for it."

"Not I," Derrick said as he put an arrow in the bow
and aimed. The first arrow whizzed by, barely missing
the radio.

"You're going to hit it!" Ronald cried.

The second arrow flew about six inches above the
radio.

"Need to practice," Derrick commented.

The third hit the rope, and the radio fell, bouncing
on the mattresses and off to the side. Brian and Alan
rushed for it, almost falling on it. Brian stood up with
the prize, walked over to Ronald, and handed it to him.

"This better not be broken." Ronald turned it on,
and music flowed from the speakers. He tried a couple
of other stations and several controls. It worked perfectly. "You're sure lucky," he told Derrick.

"No, son. You are lucky."

After a light-hearted workday, the supervisors and
some of the professional crew went to dinner together
that evening.

"I can't believe the thing still worked after a fall
from that height," said Michelle.

Derrick and his cohorts in crime grinned wickedly.
"That was an illusion," Derrick said. "His radio was
never up in the tree. That was a broken radio I picked
up at the Potter's House last evening. His radio was
hidden under the mattresses. Brian and Alan made the
switch."

"I don't believe it," Jane laughed. "You certainly
had us going, not to mention Ronald. What did you do
with his tape, by the way?"

"It's safely hidden away"

"How did you get the dummy radio up in the tree?"
Lindsay asked.

"A magician can't give away all his secrets." Derrick grinned. "I have to keep my audience fascinated
with me."

"Well, Derrick," said Michelle, "I like your headband and sunglasses." She slid closer to Derrick and
put a hand on his arm. "I think you could fulfill a lot
of fantasies with your military persona."

"Yeah, Derrick," said Sally. "When will you give
us a break and take some of us out? I haven't noticed
you dating anybody while you've been here"

"He and Lindsay were pretty hot on the dance floor
the other night," Jane said.

"Yeah, but that wasn't a date," Michelle said.
"That's just something they do."

Lindsay felt an unexpected stab of anger toward Michelle and started to say something when Frank sat
down by her. He looked upset.

"What's up?" Derrick asked.

"I just came from a meeting with the power company about our contract. There is this prig-an attorney for the company-who has something against us
digging at the site."

"I thought that was taken care of," Lindsay said.

"I did, too. We have a contract. We have the historical recovery laws in our favor. I don't know what his
problem is. It's puzzling. He sits there with his mouth
all puckered up like a butt hole and expresses a completely irrational opinion." Frank stopped and took a
drink of Lindsay's beer. "Now he's accusing us of
being into drugs."

"Drugs?" they all said, simultaneously. "Where did
he get that notion?"

"He said he had been getting anonymous calls."

"That's ridiculous," Lindsay said. "Who would do
that? None of us are into drugs"

"That's what I told him and the contract committee. Has any of the field school been into anything?"

"The students?" asked Michelle. "No. I'm sure.
That Jeremy kid I told you about is a pain in the butt,
but I don't think he is into drugs."

"And none of the professional crew."

"Us? Of course not," said Lindsay.

"You don't think the scouts?"

"I think we can clear them," Derrick answered. "The
only thing they get into is repetitious music. Besides
they are mostly 14- and 15-year-olds, for heaven's
sake. This whole thing is absolutely unfounded."

"I know," said Frank wearily.

"The sheriff and his men have been practically
living at the site, for heaven's sake," Jane said.
"Surely they would have sniffed us out if that had
been true."

"Is that all the reason he gives, drugs?" Lindsay
asked.

"At first he didn't give that. It's as if he just doesn't
want us here, period. Fortunately, Marsha has a lot of
credibility with the committee, and our work for the
sheriff's department hasn't gone unnoticed. Look,
folks, I just wanted to suggest that we all keep a low
profile for a while until this blows over."

"What's the attorney's name?" asked Lindsay.

"Seymour Plackert."

The evil that men do lives after them,
The good is oft interred with their hones.

-William Shakespeare

Julius Caesar

LINDSAY HADN'T NOTICED it when she met
Seymour Plackert in the sheriff's office, but Frank
was right. Plackert's mouth did look like a butt hole.
He had chubby cheeks on either side of a small mouth
that was perpetually puckered. He stood in the parking lot with the sheriff and two deputies. They had
come to search the crew's tents for drugs.

Frank was there, looking grim. So was Marsha,
who was equally grim. Lindsay could say one good
thing about her: she was loyal. Ned stood nearby,
looking nervous. The professional crew who lived at
the site were there. No one was smiling.

Responding to a supposed anonymous call to Seymour Plackert, the sheriff and his deputies had been
requested by the contract committee to search the site
crew's tents and the laboratory. Only the archaeology
crew quarters were to be searched, not the scout
campsite. The anonymous caller was very specific
about where the drugs would be found.

Derrick walked out of the woods. He was wearing
his camouflage headband and aviator glasses.

"Have you gone into permanent combat mode?"
Lindsay whispered. He whispered something back
that Lindsay did not hear.

They searched the lab first. Lindsay and Frank
went with them to make sure that no artifacts were
disturbed. It took about thirty minutes. After the lab,
they searched each tent. It didn't take long. The tents
were small and had few possessions in them.

All the while, Derrick leaned against a tree with his
arms folded. Lindsay couldn't tell what he was
watching behind his mirrored sunglasses.

"Nothing." pronounced the sheriff.

Seymour Plackert's mouth pinched together in an
even tighter pucker. "That's impossible!" he insisted
in a high squeaky voice. "1 know it's here"

"How do you know?" the sheriff asked. "Did this
anonymous caller tell you exactly where it was'? How
did he know?"

"I don't know. I guess he saw the stuff." Plackert
looked down at his feet, studying the ground. Abruptly,
he looked up as if an idea occurred to him and pointed
to Derrick. "I saw him in town yesterday. He was
smoking marijuana in the park."

Derrick took off his glasses and stepped forward.
He was angry. Lindsay had seen him angry only once
previously, when a professor made fun of another student's work in class. Lindsay braced herself.

"If it was only yesterday, it will still be in my
system. Let's go pee in a jar." He stepped close to
Plackert, staring down at his face. The man retreated a
couple of steps, visibly shaking.

"That won't be necessary," said the sheriff. "Mr.
Plackert, come with me to my office"

"Me? Why? It's them. Filthy degenerates, look at
them."

"I need to ask you a few questions," said the sheriff. "Come with me. A deputy will drive your car back
for you." Seymour Plackert's eyes darted around the
group of people. It appeared to Lindsay that he was
searching for a way out.

The sheriff and the accuser departed, leaving everyone in a bad mood, especially Derrick. Lindsay didn't
like to see his usual calm disposition overcome by
anger, nor did she like seeing him unjustly accused,
even with so feeble an accusation.

"I think that will be the end of this nonsense," said
Frank. "Let's get back to work" He turned to Derrick.
"You all right?"

"Sure"

"No one believed him," Frank said.

"Certainly not the sheriff," Marsha added.

"I know. I'll get back to work in a little bit. I'm
going to chill out a while." He headed for his tent.

"I'll go talk to him," said Lindsay, following him to
his tent.

"Derrick? Can I come in?"

"Sure." He was lying on his bed with his hands
behind his head.

"Derrick. What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

"The way you're acting. You're always so ... so
tranquil." She sat on his bed and put a hand on his
bare chest. She felt his heart beating slowly and
steadily. He put a hand over hers.

"Tell me what's wrong," she repeated.

"I'm thinking."

"What about?"

He raised himself up to a sitting position. "If I tell
you, you must keep it a secret, or I'm likely to be in
trouble."

"Trouble? You?"

"Yes, me"

"I can't imagine what you could have done that
could get you into trouble."

"Late afternoon yesterday when everyone was
gone, I was in a tree, of all places, down by the creek,
at the pool."

"In a tree?"

"Yeah. I was putting up a rope to swing into the
water. Anyway, someone drove up on a motorcycle,
carrying something. At first I thought he might be a
pothunter, pardon the pun. He went into my tent, then
Brian's, and left. I climbed down from the tree and
searched the tents and found two small plastic bags of
pot.

"What? What did you do with them?"

"Destroyed them."

"Why? Why didn't you tell the sheriff? Or Frank?"

"I don't know. The packets looked so incriminating, and there was only my word that they had been
stashed. I suppose I had an attack of paranoia."

"Derrick, no one would believe those were yours,
or Brian's."

"I know. I feel really foolish, but it's too late now"

Lindsay put her arms around Derrick's neck. After
a moment, he slipped his arm around her waist

"Derrick," she whispered. "that was foolish, but I won't tell anyone." She kissed his cheek and disengaged herself.

"The point is," he said, "why does someone want
us off the site?"

"I don't know."

Three o'clock came quickly. The crew quietly went
about the tasks of covering the area and putting up the
equipment. Angry shouts suddenly brought everyone
to attention. The raised angry voices carried across
the site.

Lindsay and Derrick ran over to the dock. Frank
and Ned were squared off, yelling at each other. Brian
and Michelle were standing, watching, uncertain what
to do.

"What's up?" whispered Lindsay.

Brian shook his head. "Frank came with this letter
and started yelling."

"Damn you, Ned!" The two were oblivious to
anyone else present. "All this time when you've been
going to your appointments, you've really been going
behind my back." Frank was red-faced. "This is the
most underhanded thing you have ever done. We have
been working hard out here with everything that has
been going on, and you've been working against us"

"Should we do something?" whispered Michelle.
"They look very angry."

Lindsay shrugged. They all stood frozen, watching.

"Someone had to do something. And I haven't
been working against the site. I've been trying to save
it."

"Save it? Save it! It has never been in any danger
except in your mind. Don't you think I keep track of what's going with the water project'? It's a long way
off, Ned"

"They are going to start testing different water
levels..."

"That's what you keep saying, but you are wrong. I
don't know where you have been getting your information. It doesn't even make sense. But you may have
single-handedly stopped the digging." Frank slapped
the letter he held in his hand. "This says the archaeology department is going to review the proposal."

"They are going to put me in charge," Ned said.

"You? Are you some kind of idiot? You may have
convinced them the dig is unsalvageable."

"That's not true!" Ned yelled back.

Lindsay noticed that Ned almost sounded childlike
in his denial.

"It's true," Frank yelled. "I've got to go defend it.
As for putting you in charge, you won't be in charge
of the backdirt pile. I'll see to that."