“You should talk to him,” Meredith urged.“Try and mend things.”
Wynona shook her head and stood.She made them both another drink.Meredith wasn’t thirsty, but she accepted the tumbler of juice.She hoped she wasn’t enabling Wynona by drinking beside her.
They sat and watched the setting sun.Two troubled women, side by side.
Chapter Seven
Wade shouldn’t havetaken Mary to the crime scene.
He hadn’t been convinced the remains were human, based on witness accounts from three stoned teenagers.It was unusual to discover a body in this advanced state of decomposition, partially buried.Even so, he wished he’d gone by the book, because he was about to embark upon his first homicide investigation in Lost Lake.This was a very big deal to him.
The deputy coroner was scheduled to meet him at the end of the road.Wade parked and sent a text to Sheriff Nava.He wanted to keep him in the loop, and to follow every proper procedure moving forward.
Nava called him back less than five minutes later.“What’d you dig up, Hendricks?”
Wade described the scene at the creek bed.Nava sounded distracted, like he was listening with one ear.“I’d like to request an autopsy.”
That got Nava’s attention.“Based on what evidence?”
Wade hadn’t expected this question.The evidence spoke for itself.“Suspicious circumstances, unidentified remains, unknown cause of death… take your pick.”
“Those are investigation triggers.An autopsy is still discretionary.”
Wade was aware of that.“Do you have an objection?”
“Let’s just pause for a reality check,” Nava said.“Unlawful burial, if it is that, doesn’t equal homicide.”
“I don’t think unlawful burial is in question.”
“Think again,” Nava countered.“The river level fluctuates.Landscapes change and trees grow.This body could be drowning victim, a migrant worker, someone who got lost after crossing the border.We get all three here, all the time.”
Wade hadn’t considered the possibility that the corpse hadn’t been buried.Could a drowning victim have washed up on the bank and become entangled in the root system of a growing tree?“I’ll ask the coroner to estimate the age of the remains, but I don’t see a reason not to move forward with an official autopsy.”
Nava made a scoffing noise that irritated him.
“Do you want to come out here and take over?”Wade asked.
“I don’t have time.”
“Then it’s my investigation, and my call.”
“It is your call, but it’s my department, and we areswamped.I can’t afford to waste manpower and resources on hundred-year-old bones.”
Wade struggled to form a diplomatic response.He wasn’t going to get bullied into sweeping this under the rug because the Lost Lake Sheriff’s Department was understaffed.“I appreciate your concerns, and I don’t expect any—”
Nava hung up on him.
Wade stared at his screen for a moment, cursing under his breath.He’d never met a chief who wasn’t an asshole, so this was par for the course.His previous supervisor, his father, had been impossible to please.He’d learned how to navigate tricky relationships in Last Chance.He also knew when to stick to his guns.
While he waited for the coroner, he googled methods for determining the age of bones, which he vaguely remembered from his forensics classes.He didn’t think the corpse was one hundred years old, based on the clothing tatters, but he was no expert.From there he followed another rabbit hole into tree science facts.He could measure the tree’s circumference to make an estimate about how old it was.
A case like this could be research-heavy, time-consuming, and unproductive.Wade didn’t blame Nava for his lack of enthusiasm, but he couldn’t stifle his own.Running his own investigation was a dream come true.
About an hour before sunset, a guy in a county van pulled up next to Wade’s vehicle.He was young, but balding, with a studious face and wire-rimmed glasses.
“Deputy Sheriff Hendricks?I’m Craig Jensen.”
“You’re the coroner?”Wade asked.
