Perhaps nothing.
Perhaps something.
“I have a container of water in the car,” I said. “Will you grab it for me?”
He stepped out a second time, unscrewing the lid off the bottle when he returned before handing it to me. I flattened the object in my hand and poured the water, using my thumb to help the grime break free. The water worked, and as I turned the object over in my palm, the shape was unmistakable.
“I think it’s a bone,” I said. “A human bone. A vertebrae from the looks of it.”
Before I could inspect it further, a sound outside caught our attention, a crunch of leaves, quick and deliberate, indicating we weren’t alone. Giovanni’s gaze met mine, and on instinct, I shoved the bone fragment into my pocket, and we reached for our guns. We stepped out onto the porch. The woods beyond the clearing were still at first. Then came another sound, footsteps pounding through brush like someone was running.
Branches clawed at my jacket as I tore through the trees, following the rustle of movement until it vanished altogether.
I shouted, “Logan, stop,” even though I did not know if he was the one we were chasing. By the time I reached the clearing, the person I was chasing was gone.
As Giovanni caught up to me, I lowered my weapon and scanned the tree line, trying to piece together who had been out here, what they were running from, and why.
“See anything?” he asked.
“Nothing. Whoever was out here was fast.”
Giovanni holstered his gun, his eyes sweeping the trees one final time before we started back toward the cabin. The clearing felt different to me now, as if charged and uneasy.
When we reached the porch, I stopped short. In the dirt were fresh footprints. They were larger than mine and smaller than Giovanni’s. Beside them, a single handprint was pressed deep into the soil near the car, as if someone had crouched there, waiting and watching.
Giovanni bent down to study it. “Whoever it was, they were close.”
“Too close,” I said.
11
By the time we reached the police department, the evidence bag holding the bone fragment was weighing on my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder if there were more fragments back at the cabin, perhaps even an entire skeleton.
Giovanni parked out front, and we stepped inside. The place was buzzing with the usual noise. Phones ringing, conversations flowing, the copy machine humming.
Foley sat behind his desk, his glasses perched low on his nose as he read through a stack of reports. Whitlock leaned against the filing cabinet, arms folded, watching us with mild curiosity. I’d called on the drive over, letting them know we were coming and what we thought we’d found.
Foley didn’t look up when we entered, instead saying, “Take a seat.”
He continued perusing the papers in his hands for a moment, then slapped them down on the desk, giving me his full attention.
“Well, where’s this discovery of yours?” he asked.
I reached into my handbag, pulling out the bone fragment and handing it to him.
He held it up to the light and frowned. “Where’d you find this again?”
“At the cabin. There’s a hole beneath the bed where some floorboards used to be.”
Foley raised a brow. “Hard to know if this is what we think it might be. If it is, it’s hard to know how long it’s been there and how it got there in the first place.”
“I’m surprised the cabin wasn’t searched better when your crew was there.”
He looked at me as if I’d insulted him, and I realized I had.
“I wasn’t trying to say you should have?—”
He raised a hand. “Yes, you were. Don’t bother backpedaling now. It’s too late.”
