The men with Julie are Reverend Holland Jr., who took over the ministry from his prick of a father a few years ago, and a young man Rachel doesn’t recognize but who she suspects was the person who called in the discovery.He’d said his name was Jake, and that he was the contract gravedigger.He’s built like most landscapers are—muscly and sturdy.He has smooth hands with long fingers and absolutely filthy fingernails.But Rachel is an avid gardener and is used to that, doesn’t judge him for it.It’s nothing a good nail brush won’t solve, and that’s more than can be said for most of life’s messes.
“So what have you got for us?”Green asks.
Reverend Holland sighs audibly and steps forward just as the other man opens his mouth to speak.
“One at a time,” Green says.He looks at Jake.“Mr….?”
“Easton.Jake Easton.”
“You’re the one that found the body?”
Rachel’s eyes dart to the open hole beside the mini excavator, but she can’t see much from where she’s standing.
“Yes.”
“Go ahead.”
“Well, I was just going to dig the hole, same as I always do.”
“Always do?”
“I’m on contract for landscaping, but I also dig the graves.Doesn’t happen often, really.Not ’round here.”
“Okay.”
“And I hit something, so of course I stopped.But it was already a bit late.You’ll see what I mean.I hit some kind of casket.But the body, well…” He trails off with an expression of distaste.“I kind of panicked, to be honest, and I don’t get shook easily.”
“This plot wasn’t taken yet,” Julie pipes up, her voice meek.“There shouldn’t be a body there, that’s the problem.We don’t know who it is.”
“And Julie, are youquitesurethis plot wasn’t already taken when the Richards family selected it?”Reverend Holland asks.
“I already told you,” Julie says.“I know this cemetery like my own backyard.There isn’t supposed to be a body in this plot.I’m positive.”
“Well, let’s see it,” Green says, gesturing to the hole several feet away.
They walk over to the excavation, Rachel and Green pulling blue rubber gloves out of their pockets as they go.When they reach the edge, they kneel.The late spring breeze lifts Rachel’s dark-brown bangs.The rest of her hair is tied back in a tight bun.
She takes in the sight and her heart falls.
“Not her,” Green mutters beside her.
“No.Not her.”
From the size of the skull and what they can see of the torso, combined with the narrow jawline, the remains are likely female.But they’re just bones.This body has been here for decades.It’s not Stacy Cooper.
“Shit,” Rachel curses.
“Yeah.My guess is administrative error,” Green says with a glance back in Julie’s direction.“Seems a bit scattered, jumpy.Probably not the most organized.”
Rachel gives him a sidelong scowl.She hates when people question whether women are good at their jobs.She herself had more than enough of that from Bloody Mary when she was a child.It was only ever her grandmother Dora, pausing over her blue-patterned Bicycle playing cards, who would praise Rachel for her successes.
Good game, little one.Your turn to deal.
“Except this body has clearly been here longer than Julie’s been running the cemetery office,” Rachel notes.She wants to snarl it at him, but keeps her tone calm.
“Bad record-keeping in the past, then, and not organized now.Think about it, Mackenzie: what are the odds that an unidentified body in a cemeteryisn’tjust an error?”
“Well, maybe, but isn’t that presumption also why it might be a perfect place to dispose of a body?Because the perp thought wewouldassume it’s an error?”
