Authors: Beverly Connor
“Look here.” Lindsay pointed to a section of pelvis. “Here, between the sciatic notch and the auricular surface, notice the preauricular sulcus.”
“She’s had at least one child,” said McBride. “Right?”
“You can tell that from the bones?” asked Sharon.
“Any pull of your muscles on your bones will show up somewhere,” Lindsay told her, “whether from hard work, lifting weights, or a pregnancy.”
“You can tell all that from bones? I never knew.” Dillon had inched closer and was now peering into the coffin. He straightened up and stepped back. “She’s a tiny thing.”
“My guess would be around five feet or less. I’ll have a better estimate when I measure the lengths of the bones. What we’re going to do now is collect some soil samples, then lay the bones out on the table here. This examination will take considerably longer. Each bone is going to be measured and given thorough scrutiny. So, it won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t want to stick around for the whole thing.”
They, in fact, didn’t want to stick around for the whole thing, opting to divide their time between the cemetery tent and this one. Luke winked at her on his way out with the others. “I’ll be nearby if you need me.”
Lindsay sensed a restlessness in the crew. They wanted to work. She motioned to Lewis as the crew left the tent.
“You need something?” Lewis asked.
“A couple of things. One is a sandbox.” She indicated the approximate size with her hands.
“Of course. I’ll have Mr. Laurens make one. And the other?”
“Why don’t you have the crew work on the barn area? It’s away from this compound, near the artifact tent. There’s still a lot to do, and I think they would appreciate working.”
“You’re right. I didn’t realize the barn excavation isn’t finished. Drew should have seen to that,” he added, and started to leave. He stopped for a second and turned to Lindsay. “You’re doing a great job. Your analysis of the survey data and your discovery of the second coffin impressed Jarman and the others. Me, too.”
Lindsay had the feeling he was going to say something else, but he left without saying anything more. Secretly, she was glad to see Drew’s continued slip from Lewis’s favor. Though she had no direct proof, she was convinced of Drew’s implication in the theft of items from Miss Tidwell’s house. And she felt that Drew was somehow involved in the acts of harassment against her. What she didn’t know was how far and how deep her illegal activities extended. She wasn’t about to protect Drew for Keith’s sake or to prevent any tarnish on the name of Sound Ecology.
“Mind my asking what the sandbox is for?” McBride asked.
Lindsay powdered her hands and slipped on a pair of latex gloves. “I expect to do some reconstruction of the skull from the skeleton found under this coffin. Sand is a good medium to hold the pieces upright while the glue is drying.”
“Do you think you can really fit those pieces together?” McBride reached for a pair of gloves from their box.
“Sure. Some of them.”
“This is absolutely fascinating. To actually stand here and examine someone who lived in my home over two hundred years ago is just amazing.” A plume of powder hovered over McBride’s hands as he donned his gloves. “Did I hear Lewis talking about doing a facial reconstruction?”
“Yes. He loves those. Actually, I do, too. Remind me to show you the ones he brought with him from a Spanish galleon site we worked on.”
She took several samples of dirt from around the sides of the coffin and sealed them in glass bottles the size of baby food jars while McBride labeled each with a marker on the side of the jar.
“He said you do sketches.”
“Yes. I can do the reconstructions, too, but I’m not nearly as good as the artist who did the ones from the galleon.”
“Elaine and I’d love to have a sketch of the people here.”
“Sure.” She stored the samples in two boxes, one for Peter Willis and another for the archaeologists. “Now, we’ll take the bones and put them in anatomical position on the table.” She gently lifted the skull from its place and set it on a donut ring. “I’m also going to take a soil sample from the auditory meatus. You never know what you can find sometimes.” She used a thin wooden Popsicle stick she had fashioned herself to take the sample from the ear canal and stored it in a vial. Whether excavating around bones or poking around in the skull, Lindsay preferred to use wooden tools to metal ones when soil conditions allowed—less of a chance of doing damage.
“Was that a flashback earlier?” McBride asked. “Elaine told me what happened to you.”
“I suppose that’s what they are. I’ve had a couple of small episodes like that since I’ve been here. They haven’t lasted long.”
Below the skull set the atlas, the vertebra that holds up the head, like Atlas holding the world, and the axis on which the head is able to turn.
“Are you seeing anyone about them?”
“I’ve had my brain scanned. The doctors say everything is just fine.”
“I mean a psychiatrist.”
“No. I’ll deal with it myself.” Lindsay picked up a small arc of a bone. “Here’s the hyoid bone. It’s intact. Good chance she wasn’t strangled.”
“I don’t suppose the argument would work that you wouldn’t take out your own appendix, or defend yourself in court?”
“No. It’s not the same. Medical doctors and lawyers possess expertise I don’t have.”
Phil McBride smiled as he placed the rest of the cervical vertebrae on the table. “You’re a psychiatrist, too?”
“No, but I am an expert on myself . . . at least I know more about me than anyone else.”
“You’re an independent sort, aren’t you?”
“I used to be. Now, I don’t know. Now I seem to need people watching out for me.”
“Elaine also told me about the torn page from the Edgar Allen Poe book someone sent you. Do you think it’s related to the attempt on your life? Are those people here, you think?”
Phil McBride’s brow made deep lines of concern, yet his voice was calm.
Good bedside manner,
Lindsay thought, as she picked up the sternum, which over the years had come to rest on the anterior surface of the thoracic vertebrae, then had slid off to the side.
“We’ll take the vertebrae and ribs out first, then remove the shoulder girdle and bones of the arm.” Lindsay gave the breastbone a quick look before she set it down on the table. “I’ve been trying to tell myself that what’s happened to me here was just pranks, but I’ve been avoiding the obvious. Denial goes a long way with me. After what happened today, I think it’s time to face it. They aren’t going to make me afraid of bones.”
“I haven’t meant to pry,” he said. “Elaine and I like you. After the way she was treated by Claire Burke, Elaine very much appreciated your treating her with respect. By the way, I haven’t seen Claire around. Is she still here?”
“No, and it worries me. She left in the middle of the night a couple of nights ago, and no one has heard from her.”
Phil raised his eyebrows. “You expect something might have happened to her?”
“I don’t know. Drew says she’s behaved like this before when things got uncomfortable for her. But . . . I don’t know. Not a lot that’s been happening fits together. But I’m going to make it fit.” The skull and vertebrae lay on the table like a head with a long tail. “Notice that the epiphyseal ring on the vertebrae are almost, but not quite, fused.”
“I see that. What would that make her in years?”
“Probably under twenty, over sixteen.”
McBride shook his head. “So young.”
Lindsay took out each rib, lightly running her fingers over each before setting it on the table.
“What are you feeling for?”
“Any nicks or cuts that might indicate injury or any other abnormalities.”
“Do you appear in court a lot as an expert witness?”
“A fair amount.”
“Is that why you don’t want to see a psychiatrist?”
“It’s true that an attorney will jump on anything that might weaken my credibility. However, that’s not the reason. I believe that if I am to really get over this, I have to do it myself.”
“If you change your mind, I can give you the names of some good people.”
“Thanks, but I hope it won’t come to that.”
She and McBride had just placed the final phalange of the left foot on the table when Lewis and Posnansky came in with x-rays of the cemetery coffin.
Posnansky hung them for Lindsay to look at. “Great images,” he said. “You can see the inner coffin.”
“That lends some credibility to your hypothesis about the trash pit burial,” said Lewis. “They did use wooden coffins in proper burials.”
Lindsay examined the clear image of the skull and shoulders. “Nice shot. Looks like we may get some material besides bones. Maybe some hair and tissue. With that kind of preservation, you may have an airtight container.”
“We’re very hopeful,” said Posnansky.
“Can you tell us anything about this person from the x-rays?” Lewis asked.
“My first impression is male. But we’ll have to wait.” She pointed to the bottom of one of the x-rays. “Looks like we may have a piece of jewelry here. Is that what it looks like to you?”
Lewis and Posnansky got close to the picture. “Like some kind of bow,” said Posnansky.
“That’s what it looks like to me,” agreed Lindsay.
“Isn’t that what you’d find with a female?”
“Maybe,” said Lindsay. “Or it might be something a female would put into a coffin.”
“Would the two of you like to break for lunch?” asked Lewis. “They’re setting up right now.”
Lindsay started to shake her head. Work was going to be piling up on her when the remains under the trash pit coffin and the cemetery coffin were ready. But a glance at McBride told her that he would welcome lunch.
“I’d like to take a break and call Elaine. See how she’s coming with the diary hunt.”
In the mess tent it looked like everyone except those working on the cemetery coffin had arrived for lunch. Mike Gentry, the repulsive man who had approached her, was helping serve. As Lindsay made herself a sandwich from the fresh-baked ham she had smelled early that morning, an idea occurred to her. Was it an idea, or a memory? It felt like an idea. If it was a memory, it was still deeply hidden in her mysterious subconscious. She looked around for Luke and spotted him in line only two people behind her. He was never very far away.
She waited until he had his meal in hand and pulled him aside. “I have something I want you to do.”
“What’s that?”
“The guy serving food, the one who calls himself Mike Gentry . . .”
“You don’t think that’s his name?”
“Maybe, but I would like you to take a photograph of him—without him knowing it—and drive up to the hospital where I was treated. I’ll give you the address. Show the nurse.” Lindsay hesitated. “Damn, I can’t remember her name. I’ll go make a call and find out. Anyway, show her the photograph and see if she recognizes him.”
“You think he may be the one who tried to take you from the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“Does he look familiar?”
“No, but my memory of that time is hazy-to-none. If he is the one, I can have the sheriff hold him.”
Luke nodded. “Probably get him to spill his guts. Good plan, except for the part about me leaving you here.”
“I’ll be fine. Everyone knows Lewis asked the army guys to look out for me. Luke, I know this Mike person has something to do with what happened to me, and I know Drew and her husband have been up to something here, and I’ve seen Drew’s husband talking to him on a couple of occasions.”
“Yeah, me too,” said Luke.
“Eric Van Horne is not the type to associate with the working class unless he has business with them.”
“Makes sense, but why would they be so blatant? Would they count on your not remembering? Would Van Horne risk being seen with him?”
“When I told Drew and the others what had happened to me, I explained how I had no memory of the period during my spell of amnesia. I think his running into me in the mess tent was a test.”
“I don’t like this.”
“Luke, I want to be free of this. Please do this for me.”
Reluctantly, Luke agreed, and Lindsay went to the artifact tent to get the camera, eating her sandwich along the way. She stopped by the crew working on the barn.
“How’re things going?” asked Adam.
“I just saw some x-rays of the cemetery coffin. Looks good. May be airtight. How about you guys?”
“With all of us working on it, we ought to have this area excavated in no time. It’s good to be doing something besides watching and being told we’re in the way. Lindsay, are you being stalked? If you are, we want to know about it.”
“You got that right.” Powell dropped his shovel and came over, followed by Byron, Joel, and Dillon.
“We heard that Lewis asked them to watch out for you.” Dillon motioned his head in the direction of the compound.
“I’ve had a few things happen while I’ve been here.”
“Why didn’t you mention it? We’d be on the lookout. You don’t suspect any of us, do you?” asked Powell.
“No,” Lindsay lied, well, only half-lied. She suspected Drew for sure. Maybe someone else, but standing facing them, they all seemed innocent and concerned. She wanted to tell them about Mike Gentry, but she couldn’t be sure that no one among them was involved. “I asked the sheriff not to come out and question anyone here. I didn’t want him to meet Trent.”
“Good plan,” said Byron, smoothing his beard. “That’s all we’d need is a rural sheriff getting wind of Trent.”
“We’ll keep an eye out for you,” said Adam. “If you have any problems, give us a holler.”
“Or bang on your floor,” added Dillon.
“I will. Thanks.”
“You think it might have been Claire? She sure had it in for you,” said Adam. “Not that she didn’t have it in for all of us.”
“She did,” agreed Dillon. “Have you had anything happen since she left?”
“No. No, I haven’t. But Claire was getting so much better the past few days before she left and . . .” Lindsay looked out over the site. “You guys better get some lunch before it’s picked over.” For a moment Lindsay thought of telling them about Drew poisoning the well with Claire, so to speak, but decided against it. Better to keep that information to herself.