Cowboy Under Fire. Carla Cassidy
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If she hadn’t sat outside with him for his makeshift barn dance, she would have been in her room all night and still wouldn’t have answers as to what had happened to her skeletons.
“At least I got the reports on the first skeletal remains to Dillon already,” she said more to herself than to Forest or Devon. “Why would somebody do this? What could be their possible motivation?”
“To stop or slow down the process? Maybe to prevent you from finding something that might identify either the victims or the killer?” Forest replied. “I thought there was somebody on guard duty here during the night hours.”
“There is supposed to be,” she replied. “He comes around between six and seven at night and stays until about seven in the morning. I’m sure he was here on duty last night before I knocked off work for the night.” She glanced at her watch. It was a few minutes after eight. He’d already left for the day.
She sank down to the ground, unmindful of the dusty reddish earth beneath her butt. To her surprise, Forest sat down next to her.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she said as Devon returned to the trailer and went inside to await Dillon’s arrival.
“You were upset,” Forest replied.
“I’m still upset, but it’s not your fault. All the work we’ve accomplished since we arrived is gone. Almost a month’s worth of digging, testing, matching and re-creating skeletons from a jumble of bones is now all for nothing. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before at any site I’ve ever worked.”
She was surprised to discover a lump in the back of her throat and the burn of tears in her eyes. Surely she wasn’t about to cry. She didn’t cry. It implied weakness and crying had never been allowed.
Swallowing against the lump and mentally willing away the alien tears, she was grateful to see Dillon Bowie’s patrol car pull up next to the big ranch house and park.
Both she and Forest got to their feet as the chief of police hurried toward them. “Maybe he’ll be able to figure this out,” Forest said with a touch of optimism.
Patience wished she could steal some of that hopeful outlook from him. She was still defaulting to a rich anger that had felt safe and familiar for so long.
“I thought somebody was on guard duty during the nights. What happened to your officer last night? Did he leave for pizza or take a nap or just forget what he was here for last night?” she asked when Dillon joined them.
Dillon winced at the same time Forest lightly touched her shoulder. “He’s not your enemy, either,” Forest said softly.
Heat filled Patience’s cheeks and she drew in a deep, steadying breath. “I’m sorry,” she said, wondering how many times she would find herself apologizing for her temper before the day was over.
Didn’t either man understand how this would set them back? She hadn’t even been inside the tent to see if bones from the burial site were also missing. If they were, then the odds of solving this crime were zero. Evidentiary chain of command would have been broken, and she couldn’t analyze what was no longer present.
“Officer Kelly was on duty last night. I spoke to him right after Dr. Lewison called me. He confessed to me that he fell asleep for about an hour.”
“Fell asleep for about an hour,” Patience parroted in frustration. “Does he have any idea how important the work we’re doing here is? That this is a site filled with victims of foul play? This is a crime scene and it has to be guarded at all times. People can’t take naps when on duty.”
“He does understand all that and he’ll be appropriately reprimanded,” Dillon replied evenly. “Have you been inside?” He gestured toward the tent.
“No, when I stepped to the doorway I saw that the skeletons were missing,” she replied. “I figured it was officially a new crime scene and so I haven’t been all the way inside.”
“Where’s Dr. Lewison?” Dillon asked.
“In the trailer.” Patience walked over to the huge vehicle and knocked on the door. Devon stepped out and they rejoined Dillon and Forest.
“I’m assuming you didn’t hear anything odd or disturbing overnight?” Dillon asked Devon.
Devon shook his head. “I work hard and I sleep hard.” The short, well-built man raked a hand through his brown hair. He punched the center of his dark-rimmed glasses to settle them properly on the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t hear a thing.”
“Let’s take a look inside and see exactly what we’re dealing with,” Dillon said. “Nobody touch anything,” he cautioned them.
There was no point in wearing booties, as the floor in the tent was hard earth that didn’t retain footprints. Dillon entered first, followed by Patience, then Devon and finally Forest.
She was vaguely surprised that Forest hadn’t returned to his work in the corral once Dillon had arrived. He wasn’t needed here and couldn’t add anything to help solve the mystery. She found his continued presence both a faint irritation and a strange comfort.
She knew this scene was important to Dillon, who had to investigate the circumstances as to how these people were killed and buried. But Forest knew how important her work was to her after their little bonding session the night before. He would understand why she was so upset.
“The skeletons are gone,” Dillon stated the obvious as he stared at the two empty tables. A deep frown cut across his forehead.
Patience fought the impulse to roll her eyes. “Just as I told you,” she replied as evenly as possible. She walked over to the burial pit to see if any or all the other bones had been stolen from there.
She gasped in surprise as she saw that the bones that had been on the tables were not missing, but rather had been tossed back in with the others in the pit. She’d numbered each one and the numbered bones were there.
“They’re here,” she said. All three men moved to stand beside her and peer down. “Thank goodness part of the process is to number the bones as I put them in place. I see both number-one and number-two on the bones on top. Those are the ones that had been on the tables.”
“Are they all there?” Dillon asked. Forest stood next to him, tall and steady as a big oak tree.
“It’s hard to tell without actually pulling them out and reconstructing the skeletons,” she replied.
“So, this isn’t a theft, it’s a case of criminal mischief,” Dillon said with a trace of anger deepening his voice.
“It would appear so,” Devon muttered.
“What bothers me is that somebody had to have been watching Officer Kelly, waiting and hoping that he might nod off so that the culprit could enter the tent,” Forest said. “It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision, but rather a planned bit of mischief or whatever.”
“And why go to all the bother of doing this?” Devon asked. “If the bones in the pit had been stolen, we would have had a real problem; as it is we’ve just been set back a bit.”
“Depending on what time Officer Kelly fell asleep, it’s doubtful there were any witnesses around. I think all of the men went to the barn dance last night and they wouldn’t have gotten back here until late,” Forest added. “Even then most of them wouldn’t have been in any condition to notice anyone lurking around in the tent.”
“I’ll round up all the men anyway and find out if anyone saw anything,” Dillon said. “How long will it take you to get back on track?” He looked at Patience.
“It will probably take us two days or so to redo what we’d already had done,” she replied. “And that’s only if all the bones are actually there.”
“I doubt if it would do any good to try to fingerprint either the