CnC 4 A Harvest of Bones (16 page)

“Huh? Whaa—?” She blinked against the light filtering in from the hall.

“Honey, I have to go next door for awhile and wait for Murray. I just wanted you to know in case you or Kip need me for a bit. I’ll be right over there, though, and if you yell out your window, I should be able to hear you.”

I smoothed her hair back and she nodded sleepily, then turned over and promptly fell right back to snoring. I scribbled a note, reiterating what I’d told her, and left it plastered to the bathroom door in the hall. That way both Kip and Randa would know where to find me if they woke up before I returned.

After gathering several flashlights and—just because I just felt better with a weapon—a handy little switchblade Jimbo had given me on the sly, I headed next door. The tree remained undisturbed, as did its ghastly contents, though the rain was starting to blow in. I scrounged around and found a piece of tarp that we’d used to protect the tools and covered the hole with it to prevent any storm damage to the skeleton.

Ten minutes later, Murray jumped out of her truck and hurried across the lot. “Deacon will be here in a few. Let me see what you’ve got.”

I knelt down and pulled back the tarp. “Mur, those are Brigit’s remains. I know it.”

She gazed at the skeletal hand for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Well, you’re right about one thing. It’s a skeleton. Okay, let me put in a call to the station. We’re going to have to cordon off the area. We’ll do our best to find out whoever she—or he—was, and if this was a murder. God knows, I doubt if she crawled in there and died by herself. We’ll need to preserve all the evidence that we can. Where’s Joe? Is he around? I’d like his permission to search the property, just for formality’s sake.”

Oops. Of course there had to be fallout over him losing ownership of the lot. The universe wouldn’t have it any other way.

“There may be a problem with that.”

“Why? He working tonight? I can have Deacon drop over there—”

No, that’s not the problem.” I cleared my throat. “See … uh … Joe is no longer the legal owner of the property. Irena revoked the sale.” I quickly filled her in on all that had happened.

“Shit, that means I’m going to need a search warrant. Even if Irena gave us permission, she could rescind it at a later date if she got huffy later on. With a warrant, there’s not much she can do.”

She sighed. “Okay, when Deacon arrives, I’ll send him over to the station and have him ask Judge Chambers for a warrant. The judge has always looked kindly on me and I think he’ll be willing to help. Then I’ll send someone to notify Irena. However, Judge Chambers—and my boss—are going to want to know how you came across the skeleton, and I don’t think that saying ‘A ghost cat led me to it’ will do.” She gave me a long look. “Anyway you could reword things? Without asking you to lie, of course.”

I glanced up in the tree above us, where the corpse candles swarmed. “How about this: I saw what I thought was my missing cat. I tried to catch her, she ran next door, right up to the yew tree. I fell on my butt and disturbed some of the leaves.” I pointed to a small space under the roots that bordered the cavity. “And that’s when I found the skeleton.”

She snorted. “Actually, that’s plausible enough to work. And since Sammy’s still missing, it makes sense.” She glanced up at the treetop where the bare branches were starkly silhouetted against the cloud-covered sky. She sucked in a deep breath. “Autumn is the loneliest time of the year, don’t you think? The night always feels so ancient, and the days so barren.”

As I turned my face upward, a few drops splashed on my cheeks. Yes, the rain was about to start again. “This year seems particularly harsh.”

Mur nodded and pulled out her cell phone. She flipped through the stored numbers, then pressed the dial button, moving off to one side. I could hear her explaining to someone why she needed a search warrant and asking if one could be issued right away. Apparently whoever was on the other end was short and to the point, because within five minutes she’d hung up and turned back around.

“Judge Chambers said no problem. He told me to send Deacon over when he gets here, and we’ll have the search warrant in just under an hour.”

“There’s Deacon now.” I pointed to the Honda Accord that pulled up in the driveway. Deacon hurried over to us with a worried look. I’d developed a distinct fondness for the officer; he was a good cop, and it didn’t hurt that he was handsome—his eyes and skin as brown as warm chocolate. He was pulling the Yul Brenner “do.” Bald looked good on him.

He gave me a quick smile, then turned to Murray. “What have you got, Detective?” He always gave Mur her due, and I knew she was planning to recruit him onto her team as soon as she could do so.

“Take a peek in that hole under the tree,” she said and he knelt down and flashed his light in the cavity.

“What the hell—?” The look on his face told me that Deacon Wilson had caught a glimpse of the skeleton. “Now I see why you called me out of a warm bed. Whoever that is has been there awhile.” He glanced up, nodding at me. “Emerald, good to see you. How’s Joe?”

“On duty right now,” I said. “Good to see you too.”

Murray cleared her throat. “Okay, here’s the deal. Deacon, you need to run over to the courthouse. Judge Chambers will meet you there with a search warrant for this property. When you have it in hand, bring it back to me. After that, I’m sending you over to let Irena Finch, the owner of the lot, know what’s going on. Under no circumstances is she to be notified before we have the warrant. I want to get excavation underway before she shows up, complaining.”

“Anticipating trouble?” he said.

She shook her head. “I hope not. But this will eliminate any problems down the road. I’m headed over to Emerald’s to grab a cup of coffee and call the M.E.” He saluted her, waved at me, and took off.

Murray and I replaced the tarp and she surrounded the area with crime tape. After that, we returned to my house, where I stuck the kettle on. “What’s your poison? Apple spice? Mint?”

“How about caffeine? I have the feeling I’m going to need it by the time Deacon gets back with that warrant.”

Caffeine. Now that was a good idea! I pulled out the grinder and beans and went to town. “Triple espressos on the way,” I said.

“I’m going to call Jimmy. He’s at my house and I don’t want him to worry.” She pulled out her phone.

I grinned. “You guys have been spending a lot of time together. Any hope for an engagement?”

With a snort, she said, “Right. Em, you should know by now that when—if—we get married, it’s going to rock the status quo at my job. It’s hard enough dealing with—hold on.” Jimbo must have come on the line, because she said, “Hey, it’s me. I’m at Em’s and it looks like I’ll be here until morning … yeah, there’s something weird going on next door. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. Okay … Well, if you have to take off before I get home, would you make sure that Sid and Nancy are firmly locked in their cages? Thanks, babe. Love you too.” Sid and Nancy were her boas—one a congenial red tail boa, the other a nasty-tempered nocturnal green tree boa.

As she hung up, I had to ask. “What about his cats and chickens and goats?” I knew that he brought Roo, his three-legged dog, with him when he stayed at Murray’s, but I wondered how his other animals were faring.

She grinned. “Snidely and Whiplash are living at my place right now—they’ve adjusted to life in my house and as long as we make sure the snake cages are securely locked, the cats are safe. Jimmy spends a lot of the day out on his land and he takes care of the goats and chickens while he’s there.”

I set the espresso maker to brewing and fixed us piping hot triple mochas with a slathering of Redi-whip. As we settled in at the table, Kip came padding into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

“What’s goin’ on? Is something wrong? Is it morning yet?”

I pulled him to me and gave him a hug. “It’s real early, kiddo. You still have a couple hours to sleep. What are you doing up?”

“I heard you guys and wanted a glass of water, so thought I’d come downstairs to check.” He yawned and I grimaced. He’d obviously been into the candy stash, his tongue was a brilliant blue. Thank God his teeth were still white, but we’d have to have a little talk about not eating after brushing his teeth. That would keep, however.

I poured him a glass of water and said, “Murray and I need to talk. Listen, in a little while, I’m going to go next door with her. Both Randa and your alarms are set, so you guys will wake up in time for school. You’ll remember where I am, right?” My hands on his shoulders, I guided him back to the stairs.

He leaned against me briefly, then trudged back up the stairs without complaining. I listened as his door opened and closed. He’d be back to sleep in no time. When I returned to the kitchen, Murray had her hand in the cookie jar. She grinned at me, sheepishly wiping peanut butter crumbs away from her mouth.

“I’m sorry, I was hungry—”

“Sorry? What have you got to be sorry about? You’re family and you know it.” I slipped back into my seat and finished my mocha. “Mur, I have something to show you. Brigit’s picture and journal.” I reached across the table and pulled them toward me. “She was in love with somebody, and from what I’ve read, she had a hard life and more than a few secrets, though it doesn’t say what they were. But it sounds like something she was ashamed of and afraid for people to find out. It also looks like she missed her mother and father, and the man she’d been in love with. Appraently, they were all dead.”

Mur shook her head. “This is all very strange, Em. If we can prove that the remains are hers—and I’m not promising anything because it’s harder to identify old bones—then what the hell happened? Why was she stuffed in a tree, for God’s sake?”

“Murder?” I said, thinking for a moment, although I didn’t like the direction my thoughts were going. “Irena stopped the sale on the lot. She said her brother, who supposedly owns joint custody of the family land, refused to sell. She also told Joe that her brother lives in Europe. Harlow found out that Brent does
not
live overseas. In fact, Brent isn’t even really living in this world—he’s been in an asylum outside of Bellingham since he was twenty. Which means, chances are he wasn’t consulted about the land sale. Which means …”

“Irena didn’t want to sell the land for some reason,” Murray finished.

“Right. We were ordered to stop work on the lot. But now, thanks to Brigit’s ghost cat, I find a skeleton stuffed into a yew tree. I think the question of the day is: Does Irena already know the skeleton is there? If so, is that why she doesn’t want to sell the land?” Everything fit together in a very weird way.

Murray looked at me closely. “And if Irena does know about the skeleton, that begs the question: Did she help put it there? Is she responsible, or partially responsible, for this person’s death?”

Troubling questions all. A knock on the door interrupted our thoughts and I opened it to find Deacon, search warrant in hand. He slapped it on the table. “We’re good to go. Judge says since the property has no house, isn’t being used, and hasn’t been used for years, this is all we need. Want me to go inform Irena?”

Murray gave him a wide smile. “You’re a mind reader, Deacon. Okay, I’m calling for the M.E. and a few more of the boys. Come back afterward. And tell her that if she wants to scream, she can scream at me.”

As Deacon took off, Murray phoned Nerissa Johansen, Chiqetaw’s new medical examiner. Nerissa had been hired to replace Bob Stryker, who had been found guilty of any number of infractions. Once they surfaced and Chief Bonner had gotten wind of what was going on, Stryker was out on his ass and had moved out of town.

After talking to Nerissa, Murray put in a call to Greg Douglas and Sandy Whitmeyer, two of the other officers who had her back, then glanced at me.

“I’m headed over. You stay here. There won’t be much to see. We need to mark off the area, which will take a little while, and then we have to wait for first light so we can have a good view of what’s out there. The last thing we want is to lose valuable evidence because we can’t see it. I want to know just who this was, and why he or she was buried inside a tree trunk.”

As much as I wanted to go with her, I knew she was right. At this point, there wouldn’t be anything to see and I’d only hamper efforts. “I hope the Will o’ the Wisps stay away,” I said.

“I think with the activity out there, and without you there to act as a blue-light special over on the astral aisle, they’ll keep quiet. After all, they didn’t show up when you found the skeleton.”

“I know, and frankly, I can’t help but wonder where they are. Maybe with me finding the skeleton, their job is done? Or maybe not. I don’t know and I’m almost scared to find out.”

“Well, get a couple hours more sleep, and I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

As she headed out, I closed the door behind her. What was it like to carry a gun and badge, to constantly be on the lookout for crooks and con artists, murderers and rapists and every bad guy in the world that might be passing through town? Mur was a good cop and I felt safer with her around, but it wasn’t the life for me. And for my children’s sake, I was supremely glad of that.

 

 

BY 6:00 A.M., I had dozed on the sofa for thirty minutes, and read the entire contents of Brigit’s diary. I was a lot more depressed than I’d been—the girl’s life had sounded so unhappy, though I couldn’t figure out exactly what had been wrong. I got the impression, however, that Brigit had been a servant of some sort in the Brunswick household.

The lot swarmed with activity. Kip and Miranda woke early, clamoring to know what was going on, but I told them I couldn’t say a word until Murray gave me the go-ahead, and they quieted down. As they ate their breakfast, the phone rang. It was Joe, wanting to know what was happening. He’d gotten wind of the activity via the police scanners. I filled him in on what had gone down and reassured him that I was fine, when Mur knocked at the back door and slipped into the kitchen.