Meredith spotted the downed tree in the distance.
“That’s it,” Wade said, moving in front of her.
She followed him toward the uprooted oak, which stretched across the riverbed.He gestured for her to stand back as he inspected the alleged gravesite.Meredith crept forward to peer inside.Thick tree roots had lifted up from the earth, leaving a cavernous space.Chunks of dirt and woody threads clung to the exposed roots.There were footprints all around, and even some inside the hole.
“Morons,” Wade muttered.
He used his cell phone to snap photos of the scene.She leaned forward, searching for human remains.She’d expected a skeleton of connected bones, neat and intact.Instead, it looked like tatters of old clothing and loose pieces.A fresh mound of dirt had collapsed over the top.
“I have to get in there,” Wade said, taking off the backpack.
He had an emergency blanket inside made of thin silver material, which he spread on the ground at the edge of the purported grave.Then he put on a pair of blue rubber gloves and stretched out on his stomach.He reached inside the hole and carefully brushed away dirt.
Meredith tried not to notice the interplay of muscles as he worked, but the process was slow and methodical, and she had nowhere else to look.For several minutes, his lean physique was more interesting than the gravesite.Then her attention shifted, because what he revealed was startling, and macabre.
A skull stared back at her with dirt-filled eye sockets, teeth bared in a grimace.Bits of debris clung to the bone.
Wade rolled onto his back, breathing heavily.He seemed to have grown tired from the strain of reaching across the space.He removed his gloves and took photos again.Then he covered the remains with dark cloth, dusted off his pants, and rose to his feet.
“How long has it been here?”she asked quietly.
“Years.Maybe decades.”
He spoke into his radio to confirm the 10-45 and request a coroner.The dispatch officer copied that and ended the transmission.
“Do we wait for them?”
“We do not,” he said.“You shouldn’t even be here, and it could take hours.I’ll drop you off and come back.”
He used a roll of yellow tape to mark the scene.He didn’t have stakes, so he tied one end of the tape to a sapling and wrapped the other end around the trunk of a nearby tree.The crime scene tape stretched across the space.
That done, they left the gravesite and returned to the vehicle.On the way back to the ranch, they settled into a comfortable silence.Wade listened to the radio chatter, but she tuned it out.The pickup truck jostled along the country road, rocking her gently, and she was almost drowsy enough to drift off.Then a morbid thought occurred to her, and she straightened.
“You used crime scene tape,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You think it’s a crime scene?”
“Bodies don’t bury themselves.”
She gaped at him in horror.“You think that person was murdered.”
“Yes.”
“Wow.”
“Are you going to have nightmares?”
“I don’t know.Maybe.”
“I thought dead bodies didn’t bother you.”
She hadn’t been bothered by the dearly departed souls in the funeral home, but she’d only worked there a few months.All of the corpses she’d seen had belonged to elderly people who’d died of natural causes.“Have you investigated a murder before?”
“I’m not a homicide detective.”
“But you’re a first responder.You’ve seen victims.”
