LC 02 - Questionable Remains (31 page)

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Authors: Beverly Connor

Tags: #Police Procedural, #Georgia, #Mystery & Detective, #Women forensic anthropologists, #Fiction, #General, #Women Sleuths, #Excavations (Archaeology), #Women archaeologists, #Chamberlain; Lindsay (Fictitious character)

BOOK: LC 02 - Questionable Remains
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"Sheriff," she said. He came over to look at the skull.
"These fractures here and here were probably made by the
falling rocks. See how the depressions are rounder and the
cracks radiate around each. Now look at this wound. See how it is slightly L-shaped. The bottom of the depression is
overlapped by this fracture." She looked up at him.

"Go on," he said. "I'm following."

"When anything like glass or bone is hit, fracture lines
radiate out. A fracture line will terminate at another fracture line."

"Yes. That's how we determine the sequence order of bullet holes through glass and such. Go on."

"This L-shaped injury has fractures that radiate out until
they just run their course. However, the fracture lines for
this injury over here-" she pointed to a depression on the
upper occipital, "the ones we think were done by rocksterminate at the fracture lines for the L-shaped cut."

"The L-shaped wound was first; the others happened
later," Sheriff Prescott said. "Hell, I should have done the
bones myself, and we wouldn't be here now."

Lindsay smiled. Ballinger and Tucker Prescott looked ill
at ease.

"Yes," she said. "That's right. Look at the L-shaped injury.
It was probably made with a tire iron or-"

"Crowbar," said the sheriff. "Seen that kind of wound
before."

"Yes," said Lindsay. "That's a possibility."

"I've found something here," said Derrick.

Lindsay came over to the table where Derrick was looking at the bones of Roy Pitt. She knew he didn't particularly relish the work. Derrick was not a "bone person," but
she knew he could competently lay them out and look
them over for signs of trauma. He hated looking at bones
that had anything left of the flesh, and the two skeletons of
Roy Pitt and Blaine Hillard, though basically skeletonized,
were still articulated to a great degree and had quite a bit
of gristle on them.

He showed her a rib and pointed to a cut. Lindsay made
a motion with her hand as if stabbing someone underhanded with a knife. Derrick nodded.

"It looks like we have some stab cuts here," she said. "The
knife hit the rib and the vertebrae. It looks like someone
came up behind him and stuck the knife in his kidney, nicking the eighth rib."

The sheriff came over to look. "Yes. See that, too. It looks
like we've had a murderer running around with two years
of undeserved freedom after committing a crime in my
county. I don't like that."

"Interesting that you have two types of murder
weapons," said Lindsay.

"Yes. It is," said the sheriff. "I'm going to have to ponder
over that one."

Lindsay moved to the skeleton of Ken Darnell and picked
up the skull. Most of the bones were disarticulated with
only a few telltale ligaments here and there. She held the
base of the skull in her hand and looked at the face. Just
then Jennifer Darnell's lawyer burst into the room to
protest. He had a piece of paper in his hand, shaking it.

"I don't know how you did this, Struen Prescott, but
you've gone too far. He wasn't even from your county-"

"Didn't have to be from this county. Just had to be killed
here."

"Jennifer Darnell protests most strenuously, and I have a
court-"

"You can tell Jennifer Darnell she can relax," said
Lindsay, interrupting the lawyer. "These aren't the bones of
her husband." Everyone in the room looked at her in
amazement. For the first time, the sheriff didn't see how she
arrived at her conclusion. Nor did Derrick, who knew her
methods well. The reporter furiously scribbled on his pad.

Lindsay had seen these teeth before. She was looking at
the defleshed skull of Denny Ferguson.

 
Chapter 17

THE REPORTER WROTE furiously on his pad, taking
down the rush of ensuing accusations that Lindsay's
announcement provoked. When Sheriff Prescott decided
that the ruckus had had its effect, he cleared the room so
Lindsay could analyze the skeletons in relative peace,
though she could hear the ranting outside the doorthreats of lawsuits by Clay and Lorinda, angry excuses
from Dr. Ballinger, insults hurled at her. The noise didn't
last long. The sheriff let the reporter get his fill and sent
everyone home.

It was late when Lindsay finished. She found no more
points of trauma on the bones that she could distinguish
from damage caused by the rocks. She did find evidence
that rodents had gnawed Roy Pitt's and Blaine Hillard's
remains extensively. She found none on Denny Ferguson's
remains. She examined the x-rays that were labeled Ken
Darnell but really belonged to Denny Ferguson and noted
the name of the dentist: Terence Wilson, D.D.S. She made a
mental note to contact him, though perhaps she should
leave that to the police.

As she was about to lay the x-ray down, she saw another
anomaly. In the upper left corner, along the edge, was a fingerprint. Nothing unusual about that-this x-ray had been
handled by a half-dozen people. What was unusual about this print was that it was part of the x-ray image. It had been
left on the film at the time the x-ray was made by whoever
developed it. Unusual for a dentist's office, Lindsay
thought, but interesting. She placed the x-ray back in its
envelope and attached a note to the sheriff to have it delivered to Agent McKinley to be matched.

The last thing she and Derrick did was to take samples of
detritus from the auditory meatus, the eye orbits, the skull
vault, and the pelvis, and bag and label them. An examination of the detritus would probably reveal soil differences
and insect casings that would verify the differences in
decomposition rates and places. But, of course, with the
skeleton identified as Denny Ferguson, it was a given that
his body decayed at a different time. He was alive when the
others were reported missing and already dead.

"That was a circus," said Derrick, driving back to the
motel.

"Wasn't it though? Denny Ferguson . . . " Lindsay frowned.

"I'm not sure I understand this," Derrick said half to himself as he pulled into the motel parking lot.

Lindsay was quiet. She got out of the car and walked to
her room and leaned against the wall as Derrick opened the
door, a frown still creasing her forehead. She slipped off her
shoes and sat down cross-legged on the bed.

"That's why all this happened to me. I had the feeling all
along-the attacks on my reputation, the calls and trespassers at my house-that someone was trying to get me to
go home. Trying to kill me in the cave was the last desperate act," said Lindsay.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that when they found out I was coming up here
to investigate the death of Ken Darnell, they knew that if I
ever saw x-rays, photographs, or the skull itself, I, above all
people, would recognize Denny Ferguson," she said.

"I can buy that. But who are they?" asked Derrick.

"Kelley. Kelley Banks. Ken Darnell is her uncle. She knew I was coming here, and it angered her. She pretended to be
concerned for her aunt. Ken Darnell went to her for a body,
and she supplied him Denny Ferguson."

"But that would mean Ken Darnell isn't dead," Derrick
said.

"Exactly."

Derrick sat on the bed facing her. "I still don't understand
the timing. The dead cavers were reported missing when?
February two years ago. Denny escaped this past April. The
bodies were discovered this May."

Lindsay nodded. "Yes."

"What do you think happened? Do you think Ken is still
alive?"

"Yes, and I think we can get the FBI to look for him."

"Why?"

"Because I can link him to Gil Harris."

"Just because Harris met Ken once-"

Lindsay shook her head. "The chewing gum they found
on the cliff. It has an extra cusp-possibly Carabelli's cusp."

Okay," said Derrick. "Let me get this straight. The person
chewing the gum on the cliff where Gil Harris was killed
had Carabelli's cusp?"

"Yes, an extra cusp anyway. I'd be willing to bet it was an
upper molar," she said.

"What does that have to do with Ken Darnell?" Derrick
asked.

"You know that it's a hereditary trait and relatively rare.
Joshua Lambert, nephew to Ken Darnell, has it. Ken Darnell
could also have it; certainly someone on the cliff the night
Gil died had it. Gil Harris was a caver and knew Ken
Darnell. A tenuous connection, but a connection nonetheless. What if Ken was following me and Gil recognized him?
It makes sense."

"It's a good enough connection to interest McKinley,"
Derrick said and pulled Lindsay to him.

She put her arms around his neck then abruptly pulled away, looking past him at herself in the mirror at her
skinned-up face and touching her forehead and cheek lightly with her fingers.

"You'll look fine," said Derrick, grinning broadly. "You
look great to me right now."

She looked back at Derrick's face as if he were suddenly
turning into a unicorn before her eyes. "What?" he asked.

"My face and your smile."

"What about them? Are my teeth falling out?"

"I just had an idea." She hopped off the bed and paced
the floor, stopped, and stared at Derrick, but all her attention was turned inward. "Do you have your camera with
you?" she said at last.

"Yeah."

"There's a picture I want you to take." She went to the
phone and called Agent McKinley, explained her idea and
what she wanted him to do.

"That's a long shot," he said at last. But she could tell by
the tone of his voice that he'd bought into it.

"You'll do it, then?"

"Oh, yes. It's a very interesting long shot. And this
Carabelli's cusp thing-well, that's interesting, too."

"Good. These are the measurements I want your people
to take. These specific ones are very important." Lindsay
gave him directions on what she wanted done.

"Sure thing," he said.

"I'll be damned," said Derrick when Lindsay had hung
up the phone.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Interesting idea, and it might even be true," he said.

"Can you get the picture?" she asked.

"You show me, and I'll get it." He kissed her. "Your lips
aren't sore, are they?"

"They're about the only parts of me that aren't."

"Good." He kissed her again.

Derrick and Lindsay changed and drove to McMinnville. They stopped at a Wal-Mart so that Lindsay could get a pair
of sunglasses and a large hat, and they both bought
Cumberland Cavern T-shirts.

"Don't we look like tourists?" she said, wearing her new
T-shirt and sunglasses, her long hair tucked under her large
hat. Derrick had put on his shirt and tied his long hair into
a low ponytail. His camera hung by a strap around his neck.

"We look like we got lost on the way to the beach."

Lindsay smiled. "Yeah. But I don't want them to recognize me. How do I look in a hat?"

"You were born to wear them."

They drove to Everything Sporting in Derrick's jeep and
parked a couple of blocks away. It was their good luck that
there was a small cafe across the street with a clear view of
the large picture window of the store. It was rather bad luck
that Jennifer and her boyfriend, Craig, were in the cafe.
They were sitting in the back, drinking coffee and chatting
with the waitress. Derrick and Lindsay sat in a small booth
by the front window.

"Where you folks from?" They looked up to see a smiling
waitress putting menus in front of them. Lindsay had the
urge to bolt from the coffee shop. She felt as if her hat and
glasses looked like a Halloween costume.

"Oak Ridge," said Derrick.

"Oh. I see you've visited Cumberland Caverns. Did you
like it?"

"Unforgettable," said Lindsay, smiling.

"I don't like caves myself. I'll be back when you've had a
chance to look at the menu."

"Do you think I should leave?" Lindsay asked when the
waitress was out of earshot.

"You can. Now that I know who they are, I can take it
from here."

Lindsay started to stand, but so did Jennifer and Craig.
Lindsay sat back down as Jennifer walked in her direction,
leaving Craig to pay the bill. Lindsay averted her face and looked down into her purse as Jennifer passed. Jennifer
turned to look at Derrick, as many women do. She smiled,
and he gave her a dazzling one in return. She left and
crossed the street back to her store. Craig followed shortly,
not giving them a glance.

"That was close," said Lindsay.

"Why don't you go mail your backpack to the FBI,"
Derrick said, "and I'll get the photograph. You can meet me
down the block."

"All right. Derrick, be careful."

"I'm just going to take a picture. I'll be fine."

Lindsay left him, with some misgivings, and mailed the
package off to the FBI by next-day service. She faxed a
description of everything that happened to her to Agent
McKinley. With those tasks done, she drove to the place
where she was to meet Derrick. He wasn't there, so she
pulled into a parking space and waited, constantly glancing
down the street looking for him. After about twenty minutes, she was beginning to feel uneasy and wondered if she
should go look for him. She had opened the door to get out
of the Rover when she saw him leave the cafe, holding a bag
of something and walking up the street toward her.

He grinned when he got to the car, reaching into the sack
and pulling out a Styrofoam cup and a spoon, which he
handed to her through the window. "I got you some ice
cream," he said.

"It took me a while to get the picture," he added. "Both of
them went to an office in the back of the store and stayed a
while. I was kind of worried. They had a couple of clerks
waiting on people, so there wasn't any reason for either of
them to come out."

"What did you do?"

"I did a little looking around. They have some pretty
good stuff."

"Did they see you?"

"Sure, but they don't know me from Adam. They came out and told the clerks they were leaving. Seems as though
they're going to a party tonight. Jennifer gave me another
smile and asked me if I found anything I liked."

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