Don't Look Back (2 page)

“I try.” He pretended modesty.

She flashed him a grin, then turned to scan the gently sloping grass that stretched out before them. Land that would one day be used to bury the deceased – the way they were supposed to be buried, not someone digging a hole in the ground and trying to hide his crime.

“Any other observations? Anything else that could indicate murder?” He wanted to hear what she thought. Listening to someone else sometimes helped him organize thoughts in his mind.

“Besides the fact that a body’s buried in a place it shouldn’t be and without a coffin?”

He grinned at her teasing.

She turned serious. “The way the bones were situated says a lot.” She described them to him. “The body was dropped into that hole, hands bound behind her.”

“Her?”

“The first thing I looked for. The shape of the pelvis and a few other things.”

“Right. And the hands were bound behind her?”

Jamie nodded. “I could tell because the right arm bones were lying across the back of the spine and not under it. At least that’s my theory until further examination.”

She paused and Dakota watched her gaze land on a spot near the edge of the trees. Dread twisted her features as she headed to the area. “Uh-oh. I was wondering if I would see an area like that but hoped I wouldn’t.”

He followed her and stopped when she held a hand out in front of him.

“What is it?”

She pointed to the ground. “You know as well as I do that statistics show that if a killer kills more than once, he buries the bodies in the same general location. Sometimes, not always. But because the possibility exists, it’s always smart to cover your bases.”

“Exactly. And?”

“And I bet there’s another body buried right here.”

“Huh? How do you figure that? Did you go psychic on me now?” In confusion, he stared at the ground. In his many years as an investigator, he’d learned a lot about dead bodies and forensics but hadn’t developed the skill of locating graves just by looking at the ground.

When he said he wanted to take a look around, he’d just meant he was looking for a disturbed area, anything that might indicate someone had been doing something they shouldn’t, a clue that might lead him to the reason someone buried a body here. Not that he’d really expected to find anything. It was obvious a lot of time had passed since the person in the grave had been put there, but . . .

Jamie gave a small, sad laugh and said, “No, not psychic, just more observant than the average person. I need another grid set up, marked off in twenty-foot sections with string and wooden stakes. We need some more of those workhorses and plywood, too, to set up tables with sifting screens for going through the debris. I’ll need my camera guys over here and – ”

Dakota held up a hand. “Hang on there. What makes you think there’s another body here?”

“The ground.”

“Could you explain?”

“It’s sunken in right here.” She walked the perimeter of the area she was talking about, then pointed to the center. “Then there’s another small depression in the middle.”

“Uh-huh. And how does that add up to a dead body?”

“Okay,” her voice took on the tone of teacher, “say a guy kills someone and he wants to get rid of the body by burying it. He comes out here, sees an open field, digs a grave as fast as he can, then sticks the body in it. It’s going to be rather shallow because he’s in a hurry.”

“Wouldn’t someone see that the ground’s been disturbed and wonder why?”

Jamie looked around. “We’re in a pretty secluded area. Far enough away from the mortuary building that anyone happening to look out a window wouldn’t see anything. The perimeter of the entire backside of this cemetery is surrounded by trees so no one driving by can see what’s going on.” She shrugged. “Who’s going to notice? And besides, maybe our killer didn’t care if he – or she – was found, although burying the body suggests he didn’t want it found immediately.” She threw her hands up. “Who knows?”

Dakota nodded. “Okay, but you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Right. So, our victim is buried and the ground covered back up. What happens to the body over time?”

“It decomposes.”

“Right again. As the body decomposes, the ground sinks.”

Realization dawned in his eyes. “So, what’s up with the second indentation?”

“The body cavity. When all the gases are gone, the ground sinks one more time.”

Dakota sighed and stared at the innocent-looking patch of grass. “If there’s one body buried around here, I suppose it’s possible there’s another.”

“Hey, guys,” the call came from the grave behind them, then a head popped up above the edge, “check this out.”

Jamie looked over to see Roxanne, criminalist and grave digger extraordinaire, hold up a plastic bag containing a pair of dirt-encrusted handcuffs.

A chill shot through her as the memory flashed to the forefront of her mind.
He yanked her arms behind her; the cold steel
snapped closed over her wrists. His masked faced shoved against hers
as he whispered vile things in her ear. A swish to the side, she spun her
head. Nothing. No one. Just the man behind her. The brush of rose
petals against her cheek, falling to the pillow, the floor. Low, taunting
laughter. The whisper, “She loves me, she loves me not . . .”

Breathlessness came over her as her chest closed in on her lungs. Her heart hammered against her breastbone and the blue sky spun above. She jammed a hand into her pocket and closed her fingers around the small metal object she always kept with her.

A hand on her arm made her jump and it was all she could do to hold in the scream clawing at her throat.

“Jamie!”

She gasped and looked into Dakota’s worried eyes. Blinking, she stumbled back and sat on the cool ground. Someone’s grave. A grave that could have been hers. She buried her head in her hands and fumbled for an explanation that wouldn’t have him calling the men in the white coats to come lock her up in the loony bin.

Sucking in a deep breath, she looked up. “Sorry, I just felt really dizzy there for a minute.”

“You looked terrified.”

A half-laugh croaked from her. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” She couldn’t seem to stop apologizing. “I don’t know what happened.” Yes, she did but wasn’t about to explain it. Not now. Maybe not ever. She pulled in a lungful of oxygen and shoved herself up into a standing position. She had a job to do. “I’m all right now.”

Uncertainty flickered on Dakota’s face as he stepped back without protest.

He now held the bag containing the handcuffs and Jamie shuddered.

She hated handcuffs.

The Hero, as he’d come to think of himself, gave a victorious smile and lowered the high-powered binoculars to his lap. She still thought of him. Her reaction to the handcuffs proved it.

Only now, he was tired of watching. He’d been watching her ever since he’d come across the article in the newspaper a little over nine months ago. It had been almost nine months old. A paper saved to line the bottom of the bird cage or start a fire in the fireplace.

Jamie had gotten her doctorate and she’d been in the paper holding her diploma.

Jamie. The one who’d gotten away.

Anger tightened his gut. He couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to survive, the strength to thwart him. But no matter. He reined in the anger.

He could hear the voice in his head, chanting. “Stop the pain, stop the pain. Only you can stop the pain.” He shook his head.

It was time.

Time for the fun to begin.

Time to let Jamie Cash know her hero had returned and he was ready to renew their relationship.

He put the binoculars away and cranked the car.

The clock on the dash glared at him, reminding him he had an appointment in fifteen minutes. He’d have to hurry. After all, it wouldn’t do for someone known for his punctuality to show up late. But after that . . .

He had a stop to make before Jamie got home.

2

Spartanburg Regional Hospital housed the morgue and autopsy room located beneath the Emergency Department. The back door allowed her to come and go as she pleased without running into many hospital visitors who normally came in through the reception area. Jamie preferred the anonymity of the back door.

Once every piece of bone that could be found had been excavated from the unofficial grave, she returned to the lab to get to work on the pieces she had. The grave hadn’t seemed disturbed by scavengers, just the backhoe; therefore, the absence of teeth from the skull’s oral cavity meant the person had been in the grave for at least a year, most likely longer. The absence of most of the tissue indicated longer. Possibly a lot longer. The evidence of insects would require an entomologist in order to say whether her estimated length of time in the ground for the bones was in the right ballpark.

She kept her phone nearby, expecting to get called back to the scene to examine the second body she was sure would turn up. Then she would help excavate it just like she had the first.

For now, the first body was a good excuse to get away from the area where she’d been so close to succumbing to a panic attack. That hadn’t happened in quite a while, but she’d been on edge lately. More so than usual and her defenses were down.

And the handcuffs . . . she’d thought she’d conquered that fear, had put it to rest. Today it had snuck up on her and belted her a good one.

And again, out at the excavation site, she’d felt . . . watched. She’d had the feeling on more than one occasion lately and it disturbed her. But she didn’t have time to think about that.

Her jaw ached. Also a common occurrence in her past. She realized her teeth were clenched. Today had opened one too many doors for her to feel comfortable. But she would work through it. Slamming the door on thoughts that would keep her from doing what she had to do, she took a deep breath and told herself to relax.

Focus on the job, she ordered herself. She slid the first box toward her. Reaching in, she pulled out the first bone, a tibia, and placed it on the table beside her. The bones would go to the cleaning room, but first she wanted to see what she had. As she’d explained to Dakota, from the pelvis and the skull, she knew the victim was a female.

For two hours, she worked, examining each piece before placing it in the cleaning container, which held a mixture of hot water and chemicals.

A contract forensic anthropologist for the office of the Chief Medical Examiner for the state of South Carolina, Jamie might be relatively new on the job, but she had already proven her worth in the field of osteology. Putting bones back together to find some way of identifying a person was no easy task.

But one Jamie excelled at.

Her cell phone rang, startling her, causing her heart to jump. She snatched it up. “Hello?”

“Jamie?”

“Dakota. Oh, hi. Well?”

“You were right.”

The news didn’t thrill her. She’d rather have been wrong. “I’m sorry.”

“See you in a few?”

“Yep.” She’d known she was going back.

Around seven o’clock, Dakota shut the door to his house and peeled out of his work clothes to toss them into the hamper. After grabbing sweats and a T-shirt, running shoes, and a bottle of water, he headed back out the door and down the sidewalk of his quiet street. Jamie had arrived back at the scene within thirty minutes of his call and had done her thing.