A Rumor of Bones: A Lindsay Chamberlain Mystery (31 page)

"But-" the nurse protested.

"I'm going," Lindsay insisted. The nurse looked at
her for a moment, then sighed, shrugged, and gave
her some extra strength painkiller.

After the deputies arrived and began making a
thorough search of the hospital, the sheriff took her
back to the site.

"Did you find the bullet he shot me with?"

"Yes. It was from the same gun that shot Plackert,
if that is what you're asking."

"And Burial 23?"

"No, the gun is not old enough," said the sheriff.

Lindsay was disappointed.

"I think Patrick shot Plackert. He said some
things." Lindsay rubbed her eyes. "Something about
things she made him do. How it changed him. Made
him able to do things like kill me. I know that is not a
lot, but ...

"I'll investigate it. We think we know where Plackert was killed."

"You do?" Lindsay was surprised.

"Yeah, we took the notion that you really did hear
the shot that night and estimated a time frame from
what you were able to tell us. We know the flow of the
river, so we looked for several places along a stretch
of bank that might be a good place to dump a body. It
turns out there's an old boathouse up the river. Mostly
a shack now, but anyone could dump a body without
being seen, just drop it through the floor. There was
some blood in it. We're having it analyzed."

"I'm impressed," Lindsay said sincerely.

"I guess you've been wondering what we did
before you got here" The sheriff chuckled. "Here we
are," he said, driving into the parking lot. "You need
any help?"

"No, thanks," she said, getting out. "I'll be fine"

"I'm not sure this is the right thing to do," he said.

"I am"

Lindsay limped over to the living area with the
help of a cane the hospital staff had found for her,
then hobbled to her tent. She stopped in the doorway.
Someone was in her bed. Her first instinct was to run,
but as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she
saw the form more clearly.

"Derrick," she whispered. He moved in his sleep.
"Derrick," she said, a little louder.

"What`? Lindsay?" He rose to a sitting position and
switched on the battery-powered lamp. "Lindsay,
what are you doing here?" He got up and put his
hands on her shoulders, guiding her to a chair where
she sat down. "You are going back to the hospital right now. What did you do, sneak out? How did you
get out here?"

"The sheriff brought me"

"Has he lost his mind'?" Derrick looked around for
his clothes.

"I'm not going back. What are you doing in my
bed?"

"You are going back, and I just wanted to sleep
here"

"No, I'm not. I'm not staying in that hospital with
Patrick and whatever crazy maniac tried to stab me.
No telling who will come after me next."

Derrick stopped, one leg in his pants. "What are
you talking about?"

"Someone paid me a visit in my hospital room
with a really long knife."

"What?" Derrick stared at her. "Are you hurt'? I
knew I should have stayed."

"I'm all right. I'm just not going to stay in the hospital."

Derrick looked confused for a moment. "Okay. You
were going to be released tomorrow anyway."

"Would you get me something to drink?"

"Sure. Stay here" Derrick slipped on his jeans and
went out. He came back with a ginger ale. Lindsay
took a couple of painkillers.

"Are you in pain?"

"A little. But I'm all right."

Derrick stripped Lindsay's bed, took the mattress
from his tent and put it on top of hers, and made up
the bed. He picked Lindsay up and laid her in the bed,
then slipped in beside her, putting his arms around
her.

"What are you doing?"

"I won't bother you. I just want to make sure you're
safe."

"I feel very safe," she said. She closed her eyes and
quickly fell asleep. In the morning Derrick took Lindsay back to the hospital where the doctor examined
her and pronounced her fit. He admonished her for
leaving the hospital but apologized for the incident, as
he called it. While Derrick and Lindsay were there,
they learned that Patrick had died during the night,
shortly before the attack on Lindsay.

Outside on the hospital steps, Lindsay stopped and
looked up at Derrick. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I wouldn't be if something had happened to
you „

"I don't think I have ever had a digging season
quite like this one," she declared.

"No. And I don't think I want another one like it,"
he exclaimed.

"Who do you think attacked me last night?"

"One of the Tyler family, I imagine. Let's not think
of that right now. It won't happen again. I don't intend
to let you out of my sight."

As Cuvier could correctly describe a whole animal
by the contemplation o.1 'a single hone, so the observer
who has thoroughly understood one link in a series
of incidents should be able to accurately state
all the other ones, both before and after.

-Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Sherlock Holmes in Five Orange Pips

LINDSAY WORKED IN the lab while her leg healed.
Marsha occasionally worked beside her, sorting and
labeling artifacts with other members of the crew.

"I haven't thanked you for sending Derrick and
the others to rescue me," Lindsay told Marsha.

"I'm awfully glad I did. I really didn't know Patrick had kidnapped you. I just had a bad feeling about
him driving off into the woods like that."

"I'm glad you saw it and followed through on
your feelings."

"Me, too." Marsha returned to her work, which was
painting a small stripe of white-out on artifacts and
writing an identifying number on them.

"You're in danger of becoming a serious archaeologist," Lindsay told her.

"That is what Frank said, too." Marsha smiled
slightly. "He said I should go to college, but I don't
think I would do very well. I was never good in school "

"It gets easier when you're older."

"Is that true? I've always heard the opposite."

"I think it is." It suddenly occurred to Lindsay that
Marsha was afraid Frank was trying to make her over
into a scholar and that she could not measure up.
Michelle's words rang in her ears.

Derrick came in just as Lindsay was about to say
something to Marsha. "There is someone here who
would like to talk to you," he said.

"Who?" Lindsay asked.

"None other than the queen herself, Isabel Tyler,"
Derrick said.

Lindsay looked shocked.

"My God!" exclaimed Marsha. "She came here?"

"Limousine and all," Derrick replied. "Lindsay, do
you want me to tell her you're resting?"

"Is anyone with her?"

"The sheriff and Frank"

"I'll see her."

Lindsay grabbed her cane, and she, Derrick and
Marsha went outside to face the grand lady of Tylerwynd.

Isabel Tyler sat straight-backed on a bench at a
picnic table. Her diamond-studded hands rested on
the silver knob of her cane. She eyed Lindsay for a
moment, looking at her as if she were a lizard that had
been turned into a human.

"The sheriff tells me you found a skeleton out here
and have identified it as my sister, Augustine."

"It is not a positive identification, but I believe the
bones we found are hers. Would you like to see the
reconstruction I made of her face?"

"No. I know what she looked like."

"Then you believe that the bones are hers?"

"I fear they might be."

"Do you know what happened to her?" Lindsay
asked.

"I have been afraid that my departed husband
Edward, God rest his soul, killed her. She was a troublemaker, and she was interfering with our-what do
you call it these days-relationship? We were in love,
you see, and Augustine was insanely jealous. I have
not wanted to believe Edward capable of anything so
heinous, but he feared she had gotten herself pregnant
and was going to blame it on him and force him to
marry her." She hesitated, glancing at the sheriff for a
moment, and shifted her austere gaze back to Lindsay.
"The sheriff tells me that Augustine was shot"

"Did he?"

"He did. Then I suppose it might have been
Edward. He was trying to save us from her wickedness, of course."

"Your husband was a tall man, wasn't he? Over six
feet?" Lindsay asked.

"Six foot one. Very tall in those days."

"Then I can put your mind at ease. Augustine was
killed by someone her own height."

Isabel was silent. Her blue eyes bore into Lindsay
like icy shafts. When she spoke, her voice was as cold
as her eyes. "How can you possibly know that?"

"Quite easily. Had her killer been taller, the bullet
would have traveled in a downward path. The path it
traveled in Augustine's skull was slightly upward."

"I suppose Edward could have been on his knees
pleading for her to leave us alone."

"The angle is not that great. No, Mrs. Tyler, they both were standing. Augustine saw what was coming,"
Lindsay said, staring back at Mrs. Tyler with equal
nerve. "She raised her hand." Lindsay put her left hand
in front of her face. "And her killer shot her through
the eye. She would have died instantly."

Lindsay saw a crack in the mask that Mrs. Tyler
had developed over the years. The sheriff may never
be able to prove it, but Lindsay knew Isabel had killed
her sister. It was not Lindsay's frankness that made
Isabel shudder, but the accurate reenactment of a
deeply held secret.

"I see," Isabel said at last. She rose and spoke to
the sheriff. "I will go home now." She turned to Lindsay. "Thank you for putting my mind at rest." But she
did not look grateful.

Lindsay watched the limousine drive off, followed
by the sheriff's car.

"Kind of tough on her, weren't you, Lindsay?"
Frank commented.

Lindsay shook her head. "I don't think I have ever
seen an individual so devoid of conscience."

"She has always been a strange woman," Marsha
said.

"It looked to me," Derrick observed, "that she was
trying to pin a murder she committed on her dead
husband. I think the sheriff got that impression, too"

After several days of working in the lab, Lindsay told
Frank she wanted to be outside.

"All right, but rest when you need to," he said.

"This will be a rest"

While Lindsay was taking up burial goods from a
grave, an idea came to her. She stared at the artifacts. The items were important to the person they were
buried with. In one way or another they defined their
lives. She unconsciously rubbed her sore leg and
looked at her watch. It wasn't yet 8:00, but the sheriff
would probably be in his office. She walked to
Frank's car, limping only slightly, got in, and dialed
the sheriff's number.

"Sheriff Duggan," said the voice on the other end
of the phone.

"Sheriff, this is Lindsay."

"Lindsay. I hope you haven't found any more
bodies."

"No. It was just an idea. It just occurred to me
where the photographs of the children might be "

"Really? Where?"

"This is based on the presumption that Jacob Tyler
is the murderer, you understand. It seems to me that a
magician might think the best place to hide something
of value would be in his magician's paraphernalia.
You know, in a secret drawer or something like that.
You could get someone familiar with magic equipment to help you search his."

There was a long pause before the sheriff spoke. "I
talked to Mickey about Jacob. I showed him a picture
of Ned and one of Jacob in his magician's costume so
he could see how similar they were and how a scared
little girl might mistake Ned for Jacob"

"Really," exclaimed Lindsay. "What did he say?"

"Mickey is pretty tired of being the prime suspect
in Peggy's murder and is opening up a bit. I think the
idea that Jacob might have murdered little Peggy got
to him. Mickey said that when Jacob was 17, he was
accused of molesting the daughter of one of the maids at the estate. The maid was paid off and dismissed,
and nothing came of it. I have yet to find any incidents in Mickey's past, and I've been looking."

"Does that mean you think it might be Jacob and
not Ned or Mickey?" Lindsay asked.

"It means I give your theory a lot of credibility.
Magician's equipment." He seemed to muse over the
idea. "I have seen Jacob perform. He has lots of fancy
cabinets. I'll talk to you later." He hung up the phone,
and Lindsay walked back to the site.

Derrick was at a picnic table drinking a large glass
of water. Lindsay went over to him.

"You've been detecting again," he said when he
saw her face.

"Just an idea. I called the sheriff about it."

"Tell me," he said.

Lindsay sat down next to him. "How are
Michelle's dancing lessons going?"

"Pretty good. She's very enthusiastic. I think she'll
make a good dancer. But not as good as you," he
added. "I'd like to plan another trip for us as soon as
you are all healed and free of pain."

Lindsay smiled broadly and took a big drink of
Derrick's water. "I'm feeling better all the time."

"What is the idea you had for the sheriff?"

"It's not that much" She told Derrick what she had
said to the sheriff.

Derrick nodded his head. "That's a good idea. You
sure are smart, Lindsay."

"If I were so smart, I wouldn't have gotten in so
much trouble this season."

"You have a point there"

"I guess I should get back to my burials," she said. Derrick and she walked back over to the site together.
Derrick went to the structure he was helping Michelle
with, and Lindsay went to her burial.

"Quitting time."

Lindsay looked up, shading her eyes from the sun.
Derrick stood over her and the cache of bones Sally
had uncovered. "Take me to a movie," she said. "I
would like to sit in a cool theater."