Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Wyatt’s breath fogged the cold air as he snapped another picture of the bones lying at the bottom of the well. The flash bounced off the damp, moss-covered stone, throwing brief glimpses of the skeletal remains back up at him. A human skeleton, of all things, tangled in the mess of dirt and roots.
“This is going to be a real pain in the butt,” John Dudley, the medical examiner, muttered as he surveyed the scene. “We’ll need to haul it up piece by piece.”
Wyatt grunted in agreement, but his attention wasn’t fully on the logistics of retrieving the bones. His mind had been drifting ever since Sam mentioned the note earlier, when they were still back at the station.
Secrets always come out.
The words had sounded innocent enough when Sam first relayed them, but Wyatt had caught something—a flicker in Kevin’s eyes, the way he glanced at Bridget as soon as Sam said the words. It wasn’t long—just a moment—but Wyatt had been a cop long enough to know when people were hiding something.
He looked over at Kevin, who was standing a little apart from the group, hands jammed in his pockets, staring down at the well.
Bridget was nearby, too, her arms wrapped around herself, her face pale as she watched the others work.
They hadn’t said much to each other, but there was something off in the way they were acting today. Something private.
Wyatt wasn’t sure what to make of it, but the exchange between them had stuck with him.
Was the note about Jo? Was Kevin involved in something he hadn’t told anyone?
What did Bridget have to do with it? He watched as Kevin walked over to help Sam with the ladder, his face tight with concentration, but Wyatt could see the tension in his movements. He was holding something back.
Wyatt shook the thoughts from his head, snapping another shot of the scene. Who was he to judge? He had his own secrets, things he hadn’t shared with anyone. Secrets he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to talk about.
Subtly, Wyatt pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced down at the screen. He did it quickly, keeping the movement out of view of the others. No messages. Not from his mom, at least.
The last text she’d sent had been two days ago—a vague, guilt-laden message about needing money and how she “wasn’t doing too good.” He had ignored it. He didn’t want to deal with her right now. Not after everything. But it had been eating at him ever since.
He couldn’t ignore her forever.
Sam’s voice pulled him back to the scene. “Wyatt, we need to rig the pulley. Let’s get these bones up without damaging anything.”
Wyatt moved to help Kevin, who was already securing the ladder into place, his movements quick and deliberate. Wyatt could feel the tension rolling off him—something more than the gruesome task of retrieving the bones.
“You all right?” Wyatt asked casually, his eyes on Kevin as they set up the pulley system.
Kevin gave a stiff nod, barely glancing at him. “Yeah. Just want to get this done.”
Wyatt didn’t push. He turned back to the well, watching as John Dudley directed the process.
It was delicate work—noting the placement of everything before pulling the bones out carefully.
Dudley was already snapping pictures from above, cataloging the position of each bone before they began the slow process of extraction.
“This skeleton’s old,” Dudley muttered as he knelt near the edge of the well. “Can’t say how long it’s been down there yet, but it’s not recent. Not by a long shot.”
Wyatt stepped back, watching as Kevin and Sam carefully hoisted the first set of bones out of the well.
A femur, long and brittle, coated in dirt and rot.
They moved slowly, methodically, passing the bones to Dudley, who placed them in an evidence bag with the kind of reverence usually reserved for the dead.
The process took time, each bone hauled up inch by inch, Wyatt’s camera clicking every few minutes to capture the scene.
Finally, the last piece of the skeleton was pulled out—a cracked skull, yellowed and worn from years underground. The empty eye sockets stared up at Wyatt, hollow and silent, as if waiting for someone to ask the right questions.
Wyatt’s grip tightened on his camera as he snapped another picture. This wasn’t just a random body. This was connected to something bigger—Garvin, Convale, maybe even Marnie. And whatever it was, it was about to get a lot more complicated.
Dudley took a final set of pictures and stood, wiping his hands on his pants. “We’ll get this to the lab, run the tests. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”
Sam nodded, his eyes fixed on the skull. “Let’s hope this gives us some answers.”
Wyatt wasn’t sure it would. Every new discovery seemed to raise more questions than answers. But something told him they were getting closer. And that wasn’t always a good thing.
As the others began packing up, Wyatt’s gaze drifted back to Kevin and Bridget. Kevin was staring at the ground, lost in thought, while Bridget hugged Pickles to her chest, her face tight with worry. Whatever secret they were keeping, Wyatt was sure it wasn’t going to stay hidden for long.
And neither would his.