A Rumor of Bones: A Lindsay Chamberlain Mystery (20 page)

"You want me to talk to him?"

"No. If he comes around again, I'll talk to him."
She took the groceries into the supply tent, and Derrick helped her put them up.

Lindsay took a paperback to bed with her. She was
deep into a Dick Francis mystery when she noticed
the top drawer of her cardboard chest-of-drawers was
slightly open. She rose from the bed, taking her battery-powered lamp with her. Setting it on top of the
chest, she pulled open the drawer. Her underwear
was in disarray, and deep among the panties was a
ring box. She opened the lid. It contained a heartshaped locket. Inside the locket was a small picture of herself on one side and Patrick Tyler on the other.

"Damn little bastard," she swore out loud.

Lindsay threw the necklace in her trash can and
paced around her tent, steaming. She stopped pacing,
looked at the necklace among the crumpled paper,
and retrieved it. She threw it on the chest and got
back into bed. Despite her anger, she fell asleep
quickly, but jerked awake when her alarm rang. First
thing after she dressed, she took the drawer of underwear outside, emptied the lot into a ditch, and set fire
to it.

"What'cha burning, Lindsay?" Brian asked,
coming up behind her from the direction of the
latrine. He squatted down and looked at the burning
apparel. "It looks like your underwear. You don't have
lice do you?"

"No, Brian, I don't have lice. Get lost."

Brian shrugged, hoisted his shovel over his shoulder, and walked toward the site.

When the clothes had burned, Lindsay shoveled
dirt over the smoldering fire and went looking for
Jane. Lindsay found her with Derrick and Sally, who
were taking the plastic covering from a structure.

"Want to go into town with me when the stores
open?"

"We forget something yesterday?" Jane asked.

"I need to buy new underwear. I just burned mine."

They all stopped and looked at her with open
mouths.

"Why?" Derrick asked.

"Because that little creep Patrick Tyler had his
hands in my underwear drawer."

"Oh, gross!" Sally exclaimed.

"What? How do you know?" Derrick asked.

"He left me a locket with my picture and his in it.
Obviously, he has been hiding and photographing me
as well."

Derrick scowled. "I'll have a word with him."

"No. I'm going to the sheriff and let him have a
word with him."

"I've heard about people like that. They can be
dangerous," Sally said.

"I'm going to be dangerous if he doesn't leave me
alone."

Lindsay helped them pull the plastic off the excavation of the structure, then went to the flotation dock,
taking several of their specially adapted buckets with
her. The crew had found five structures so far, and the
volume of material needing floating was increasing.
She was hooking up the pump when Frank and the
field students arrived, flowing onto the site like
worker ants. Lindsay glanced up through the trees and
saw Patrick Tyler with Frank and Marsha. Dammit,
she thought. She left the dock, climbed up the bank,
and headed toward Frank, who was starting on Structure 5 with Marsha's help. She saw Patrick making a
beeline for the outer trench that Derrick was crosssectioning.

"What is he doing here?" Lindsay demanded.

"Who?" asked Frank absently.

"Patrick Tyler."

"Oh. He asked me if he could work on the site. I
thought it would be good community relations."

Lindsay watched Patrick sneaking up on Derrick.
Only the top of Derrick's head could be seen as he
knelt in the deep trench. She started running toward the trench as Patrick knelt down and stretched out his
hand to Derrick's head. Lindsay stopped when she
saw Patrick run his fingers through Derrick's hair, a
wry smile playing on her lips. Derrick turned around,
saw Patrick, and jumped from the trench in a fury.
Patrick backed away, stuttering.

"I-It's a m-mistake, really."

He fell backward, and Derrick pulled him up by
the front of his shirt.

"Do something like that again, you little pervert,
and I'll break your neck."

"It was a mistake. You don't understand"

"Oh, I understand, all right." Derrick grabbed a
piece of satin and lace hanging half out of Patrick's
pocket.

"That's mine."

"Yours? Yours? Get off the site, you piece of puke.
If I ever see your face again, I'll smash it in."

"But, but I-I don't have a car."

"Then walk! Now!"

"Nonsense," said Brian. "I'm the official creep
chauffeur around here. I'll take him back to town."
Brian grabbed Patrick by the collar and began dragging him toward the parking lot.

"What the hell is going on?" swore Frank, hurrying
to the commotion. "Brian, let him go!" Brian stopped,
but still held onto Patrick.

"He was running his fingers through Derrick's
hair," said Marsha, who had watched the incident in
puzzled fascination.

"What?" asked Frank. "Derrick. What is going on'?
Do you know who that is? His grandmother is Isabel
Tyler."

"I don't care if his grandmother is Queen Elizabeth. He's a disgusting little creep"

"Derrick, don't you think he was probably just
horsing around?" Frank asked.

"No," Lindsay answered. "He thought it was me."

Frank stared at Lindsay. "You? What do you
mean?"

"All he could see was the hair," she said.

"Am I missing something?" Frank asked.

"He had this in his pocket" Derrick held out a pair
of panties to Lindsay. "Are they yours?"

"Yes," she said without touching them.

"What in God's name is going on?" Frank asked.

"Patrick has been harassing Lindsay," Derrick said.
"Apparently, last evening he went through her underwear and stole these"

"He's lying!" Patrick cried. "He's a dirty liar."

"Oh, God," Marsha exclaimed.

"Brian," Frank said. "You can escort Mr. Tyler off
the site."

"Yes, sir."

"Lindsay," said Frank, "why didn't you tell me?"

"I haven't had a chance. Besides, I was going to the
sheriff's office today to tell him."

"Well, I'll go with you."

"So will I," Derrick said.

"Me, too," said Marsha. "I think I recall him harassing a girl when he was in high school. The sheriff
might remember it."

"What brings you all here? You haven't found another
body?" the sheriff asked as he looked up from his
desk and grinned.

"I need you to have a word with Patrick Tyler,"
Lindsay said. She set the box with the necklace on the
desk. Derrick, who had put Lindsay's panties in a
plastic bag, lay them on the desk beside the box. The
sheriff looked at them in surprise as Lindsay and Derrick detailed the incidents with Patrick. "I didn't save
the letter," finished Lindsay.

The sheriff looked dumbfounded for a moment. He
picked up the plastic bag that held Lindsay's panties,
then put it down again. "I'll have a talk with him." he
said. "It is probably just an infatuation."

"Do you remember how he was fixated on Wilma
Harrison's daughter in high school?" put in Marsha.
"They finally had to send her to live with her aunt in
Michigan, he was so persistent."

"Yeah, I remember, but that was a long time ago."
Marsha started to protest, but the sheriff raised his
hand to cut her off. "Leave it to me. I'll talk to him.
He has no business sneaking around in Lindsay's personal things and taking her underwear."

Later Derrick and Lindsay sat in the diner drinking
coffee while they waited for Frank and Marsha to join
them after Frank paid the bill at the hardware store for
the last order of screens and shovels.

"Calm down," Derrick said. "The sheriff said he
would sort everything out."

"What are you talking about?" Lindsay asked, with
sudden unexplainable exasperation.

"Look at yourself. Your shoulders are hunched up.
Your expression looks like you're ready to kill the
next person who walks in the door."

Lindsay smiled. "If it's Patrick, maybe I will. Let's
not talk about murderers and perverts anymore."

"Suits me. Let's talk about you. What's going on in
your head?"

"All those things I don't want to talk about. Give
me a diversion, Derrick."

He smiled and reached for her hand. "I would love
to divert you if you would let me. When we go to
Savannah..."

A clever reply played on Lindsay's lips, but it was
lost as she looked up and saw Frank and Marsha pull
into a parking space in front of the diner. She took
back her hand.

It was hot and humid at the site the next day as Lindsay worked on excavating a structure. She knelt
between the strings that marked off a grid on the
structure floor, putting the dirt from each square into a
bag labeled with the number of its square. As she finished each bag, a scout took it to the dock to have the
dirt and debris separated from the small artifacts by
use of the floatation screens. She looked up through
strands of sweat-dampened hair to see the sheriff
coming toward her. Not today, she thought. Please,
not ever again. No more death. Lindsay had a strong
urge to run in the opposite direction.

The sheriff waved to her. "Good news," he said.
"Patrick Tyler has been sent out of town for an extended stay."

"How did you manage that?" Lindsay asked, stepping out of the grid strings to stand with him.

"I went to see his grandmother, Isabel Tyler, and
took the locket, your underwear, the bill for the flowers he ordered for your `date,' and the bill for the
locket. I laid them out on her coffee table and told her that he was harassing you and would not stop. I reminded her of Linda Harrison and how her parents had
to send her out of the state to get away from Patrick. I
told her that because of Patrick's past and present
behavior, he had attracted the attention of the Georgia
Bureau of Investigation's psychologist as a suspect in
the child murders. I admit I stretched it a bit there, but
it had the desired effect."

"What did she do?"

"She sat in her high-backed chair as rigid as could
be, without saying a word. Occasionally, her mouth
would twitch. The old lady thought I should leave
the locket, since her money had bought it. I told her
that since it was found in your underwear drawer,
it was evidence. Believe me, she did not like that
one bit. Yesterday evening I got word that Patrick
and his mother, Ruth, left on a trip to an undisclosed
location for an undetermined amount of time." He
laughed.

"That means he'll stay gone? He'll do what she
says?" Lindsay asked.

"Isabel Tyler controls all the money, and she rules
with an iron hand. I imagine she tore into his butt real
good."

Lindsay suddenly put her arms around the sheriff's
neck and kissed him. "Thank you so much!"

"No problem," he said, blushing. "Is there anything
else I can do for you?"

Lindsay smiled. "No. This really takes a big load
off my mind."

"I doubt you'll hear from him again. I don't believe
Patrick is dangerous, just a damn nuisance. But you
never know."

"I really appreciate all you've done to help."

"Actually, I rather enjoyed mortifying the old lady.
But don't let that get out"

The day was beautiful. The weatherman said there
would be no rain. Indeed, the bright sun and cloudless
sky confirmed the accuracy of his prediction. It was a
perfect day. Lindsay went from burial to burial,
checking her diggers. Satisfied with the progress, she
helped Sally with the mapping.

Derrick and Brian had gone into town to pick up
supplies at the hardware store. As Lindsay was drawing a corner posthole of a small outbuilding on Derrick's map, she saw Brian and Derrick drive into the
parking area.

The survey rod Sally was holding leaned severely
as she watched them emerge from the Jeep. Lindsay
yelled at her to pay attention, and Sally grinned sheepishly. "Come on, Lindsay, it is almost lunch time."

Lindsay grinned back. "Okay. We'll let Derrick
and Brian finish the mapping after lunch."

"What do you think of Brian?" Sally asked as she
brought the rod to Lindsay.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I was thinking about asking him out. Do
you know if he is seeing anyone?"

"Not that I know of. I thought you and Thomas
were getting along."

"Yeah, but we are not serious. I kind of like the
way Brian saved me from the masked outhouse shakers and dragged Jeremy and Patrick off the site."

Lindsay laughed. "I see. Well, if you're interested,
why not ask him out?"

"You don't think he minds forward women? Some
men are funny about being the one to do the asking."

"Ask him and see. I think he'll be flattered."

Late in the day as the sun was beginning to fall behind
the trees and the heat of the day had begun to dissipate, Lindsay was working with bone identification in
the laboratory tent after most of the crew had scattered. Suddenly, the triangular dinner bell that hung
from a tree near the picnic tables sounded. Lindsay
and Sally both looked at their watches and at each
other. "What the ..." Sally exclaimed.

Derrick and Brian were sitting on a table, looking
grim. Lindsay had a sinking feeling that something
else had gone wrong. When the crew had gathered,
Frank spoke.

"We've been told a five-year-old girl is missing.
The sheriff wants us to help look for her."

Lindsay thought she was going to be sick.

His bones are as strong pieces of brass ...

-Job 40:18

THE FOCUS OF the search for Jenna Venable was a
large wooded area behind her house. "She likes to
play in the woods," her mother tearfully told the sheriff. "I told her to always stay in sight of the house ...
not to go in the woods ..."

No one mentioned the possibility that Jenna might
be another victim of the killer, but the fear of that
prospect was in everyone's eyes.