Read Online Murder Bone by Bone by Lora Roberts - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lora Roberts
Tags: Mystery
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away again.
Drake found us on the window seat, our noses still glued to the glass as we watched Stewart’s truck disappear. I pointed out how tidy it was—the bones nicely tucked in, the site barricaded. Drake just sniffed.
“Our people would do a much better job.” He flopped on the couch and closed his eyes, pressing his fingers into his forehead just above his eyebrows. “Trouble is, we’re spread so thin this weekend. Training exercise in Mountain View, and a murder-suicide in East Palo Alto that Bruno’s been detailed to help with. These bones have a very low priority, believe me.” He sat up. “Much as I hate to, I’ve called in the archaeologists.”
“Send in the clowns,” I murmured.
Drake grinned. “Richard Grolen is kind of a clown, if you ask me. One of those overgrown types that never grows up. Still digging in the dirt. He’s got to be over fifty.”
“Not that old. And he seemed to be in good shape. Digging will do that for you, I guess.”
Drake frowned. “I don’t like giving it over to him, but nobody in the department seems to feel these bones are of much interest, seeing how old they are. The county will send out a forensic anthropologist to date them, hopefully on Monday.”
“I thought that’s what Dinah Blakely was going to do.”
“She’ll want to sit in, probably, but it has to be official.” Drake rumpled his hair. “And I guess I’ll hang around over the weekend to keep tabs on the diggers. If I thought they wouldn’t miss some evidence, I’d just let Public Works go for it.” He sighed. “This looks like one enormous headache.”
I didn’t care for the way he looked at me when he said that. “Surely you don’t blame me. Or was I just supposed to ignore what the boys had done? After all, the work crews would have noticed the bones on Monday, or at least what was left after the boys stirred it all up, anyway.”
“No, no.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Of course, it’s worth investigating. It’ll just be so tedious to track down the ID at this late date, that’s all.”
“You call yourself a detective,” I scoffed, helping Sam down from the window seat. “You have records, don’t you? Who lived here, who was missing—”
“Liz.” Drake was patient. “Those records are useful if you have a date. The forensic guys aren’t going to say, ‘This man was killed in August of 1975.’ Without a benchmark in time of some kind, it’s going to be damned difficult, even with our databases.”
Moira woke just then, and by the time I’d tended her, Mick was awake. Drake ordered Chinese delivered, since he was expecting the archaeologists any time. I put The Little Mermaid in the VCR, reflecting that I’d allowed Bridget’s children to watch far more TV that day than I really approved of. It was easy to see how moms got into letting the kids veg out in front of the tube.
Richard Grolen and his crew showed up at the same time as the Chinese food. He and Drake held a brief discussion, standing by the sidewalk. They shook hands like prizefighting opponents.
I cut some potstickers into tiny bites and let Moira sit on the floor with the boys in front of the TV while eating. Barker, especially, thought this was a fine idea.
Drake and I took our chopsticks and mu shu onto the front porch. We sat on the steps with the front door open behind us. I could hear the kids shrieking with laughter as Louie the Crab conducted an undersea orchestra. In front of us, the students lifted away the barricades and tarp, following Richard’s directions.
“This better not be a mistake,” Drake said around a bite. He caught a noodle that slithered off. “It could cost me in the department. The captain really wanted to wait until the county team has time to deal with it, but that could be weeks. I want this cleaned up.”
“So do I.” I thought of Bridget coming back to a full-scale excavation of dubious bones in her front yard. It was enough to destroy the benefit of
Drake found us on the window seat, our noses still glued to the glass as we watched Stewart’s truck disappear. I pointed out how tidy it was—the bones nicely tucked in, the site barricaded. Drake just sniffed.
“Our people would do a much better job.” He flopped on the couch and closed his eyes, pressing his fingers into his forehead just above his eyebrows. “Trouble is, we’re spread so thin this weekend. Training exercise in Mountain View, and a murder-suicide in East Palo Alto that Bruno’s been detailed to help with. These bones have a very low priority, believe me.” He sat up. “Much as I hate to, I’ve called in the archaeologists.”
“Send in the clowns,” I murmured.
Drake grinned. “Richard Grolen is kind of a clown, if you ask me. One of those overgrown types that never grows up. Still digging in the dirt. He’s got to be over fifty.”
“Not that old. And he seemed to be in good shape. Digging will do that for you, I guess.”
Drake frowned. “I don’t like giving it over to him, but nobody in the department seems to feel these bones are of much interest, seeing how old they are. The county will send out a forensic anthropologist to date them, hopefully on Monday.”
“I thought that’s what Dinah Blakely was going to do.”
“She’ll want to sit in, probably, but it has to be official.” Drake rumpled his hair. “And I guess I’ll hang around over the weekend to keep tabs on the diggers. If I thought they wouldn’t miss some evidence, I’d just let Public Works go for it.” He sighed. “This looks like one enormous headache.”
I didn’t care for the way he looked at me when he said that. “Surely you don’t blame me. Or was I just supposed to ignore what the boys had done? After all, the work crews would have noticed the bones on Monday, or at least what was left after the boys stirred it all up, anyway.”
“No, no.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Of course, it’s worth investigating. It’ll just be so tedious to track down the ID at this late date, that’s all.”
“You call yourself a detective,” I scoffed, helping Sam down from the window seat. “You have records, don’t you? Who lived here, who was missing—”
“Liz.” Drake was patient. “Those records are useful if you have a date. The forensic guys aren’t going to say, ‘This man was killed in August of 1975.’ Without a benchmark in time of some kind, it’s going to be damned difficult, even with our databases.”
Moira woke just then, and by the time I’d tended her, Mick was awake. Drake ordered Chinese delivered, since he was expecting the archaeologists any time. I put The Little Mermaid in the VCR, reflecting that I’d allowed Bridget’s children to watch far more TV that day than I really approved of. It was easy to see how moms got into letting the kids veg out in front of the tube.
Richard Grolen and his crew showed up at the same time as the Chinese food. He and Drake held a brief discussion, standing by the sidewalk. They shook hands like prizefighting opponents.
I cut some potstickers into tiny bites and let Moira sit on the floor with the boys in front of the TV while eating. Barker, especially, thought this was a fine idea.
Drake and I took our chopsticks and mu shu onto the front porch. We sat on the steps with the front door open behind us. I could hear the kids shrieking with laughter as Louie the Crab conducted an undersea orchestra. In front of us, the students lifted away the barricades and tarp, following Richard’s directions.
“This better not be a mistake,” Drake said around a bite. He caught a noodle that slithered off. “It could cost me in the department. The captain really wanted to wait until the county team has time to deal with it, but that could be weeks. I want this cleaned up.”
“So do I.” I thought of Bridget coming back to a full-scale excavation of dubious bones in her front yard. It was enough to destroy the benefit of
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