“Nah.Any blood or tissue is long gone.”
“Do you recommend an autopsy?”
Craig gave him a sharp look.“Are you kidding?”
“No,” Wade said carefully.“I’m asking for your professional opinion.Could this guy have washed up here and ended up buried by natural means?”
The deputy coroner wore a dubious expression as he studied the site again.“It’s possible, but not likely, regardless of water level changes.The soil depth and compaction are consistent with an intentional burial.I don’t believe this is an accident.”
“I agree,” Wade said.“I was hoping for a consensus between us.”
“You’ve got it.If you didn’t request an autopsy, I would.”
“Who would perform it?”
“You’ll need a forensic-trained physician.Ask for Dr.Forester.”
Wade nodded his appreciation.
“Lost Lake is a small town,” Craig said.“The elected officials tend to be old-school and dismissive.They think a lot of scientific avenues are academic, or just too expensive for their miserly budgets.You’ll have to fight for every resource.”
They returned to the end of the road, where Wade got the contact information for Dr.Forester.Craig would take the remains to the county morgue for an official autopsy, which wouldn’t happen until tomorrow.Dusk had settled over the horizon, bringing cooler temperatures.Wade should have been exhausted after the long day, but he wasn’t.He couldn’t wait to clean the ring and study it.
When he arrived at the station, it was full dark.Lights glowed from Nava’s office.Wade walked inside to find the sheriff engaged in some kind of standoff with his son.Jackson had his arms crossed over his chest.Nava was slumped behind his desk with a cold beer bottle pressed to his temple.
“Hendricks,” Jackson said in a terse voice.
Wade nodded a greeting and ducked into his office, minding his own business.Jackson left the building instead of continuing the conversation with his father.Wade removed a pile of clutter on his desk and took the evidence bag out of his pocket.He grabbed a blank sheet of paper from the printer dock and set the heavy gold band on top of it.Dirt was crusted over the ring’s face, obscuring any details.
Wade searched the desk for tools.He needed something like a dental pick, but he didn’t have one.He found a paper clip and unbent it.For the next few minutes, he was completely absorbed in the task of removing dirt from the ring’s nooks and crannies.
“How was your treasure hunt?”Nava asked.He stood by the open door to Wade’s office.
“Struck gold,” Wade said, not glancing up.
Nava watched him work.“Is that a class ring?”
“Yep.”
“What kind?”
“I’m not sure.Might be an Aggie.”
Nava, like all Texans, knew the term.An Aggie was a class ring from Texas A&M.Wade’s alma mater, UT Austin, had enjoyed a healthy rivalry with A&M.An Aggie ring was distinctive, with a signature golden eagle.
“It is an Aggie,” Wade confirmed, after a moment.
“What year?”
He held the ring up.“Eighty-eight.”
“Largest college in America,” Nava said.
Wade smiled wryly, aware of this fact.It made the treasure a bit less precious.Texas A&M was so big, it was like a city.The student body was enormous, and the rings were popular.They might have made thousands of them in 1988.
“At least we have a year.”
“Some guys wear those for life.You can’t assume he died in 1988.”
