Chapter Six #2
They walked toward the Suburban. They’d been working since sunup, and it was late afternoon already. Meredith should have been exhausted from two strenuous days and not enough rest. Instead, she felt invigorated. When they reached the vehicle, she used a water bottle to wash her hands thoroughly.
Wade’s radio crackled at his waist. “Deputy Sheriff Hendricks, come back.”
He picked it up. “Hendricks here.”
“We’ve got a report of a ten forty-five in your area. Can you respond?”
Meredith’s heartbeat kicked up a notch. She wondered what a 10-45 was.
Wade didn’t seem to know, either. “I’m not familiar with your codes, over.”
“It’s human remains, sir. Skeletal remains.”
“Copy that. I can respond.”
The dispatch officer described the location, which was also sent to a navigation system inside the vehicle.
“Can I come with you?” Meredith asked.
“You’ll have to stay in the vehicle.”
“Fine.”
Meredith didn’t mind. She had nothing else to do today, other than hang out with Wynona, and she had a feeling the woman wouldn’t be reasonable as long as Wade was around. She wasn’t ready to face reality.
The report of human remains had been made by a trio of teenaged boys in a beat-up pickup truck. The boys had pulled over at a cul-de-sac at the end of Riverbend Lane. Meredith could see a dirt trail leading through the brush. She knew the lake was a few miles away as the crow flew.
Wade spoke to the boys while Meredith waited inside the vehicle. After about five minutes, the boys got in the truck and left. Wade returned to the Suburban, his expression pensive once again.
“Those kids claim they found skeletal remains at the base of a downed tree along that hiking trail.”
“You don’t believe them?”
He shrugged, as if he didn’t believe anything until he saw it for himself.
“Did they take photos?”
“They meant to, but they were fooling around, trying to push each other into the grave, and caused it to cave in. Now whatever was in there is buried again.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to check it out.”
“Can I come?”
Wade glanced up at the sky, considering. The day had been warm, sticky with humidity, and now clouds were rolling in. He probably wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. He turned his gaze to her and nodded.
She hopped out of the vehicle while he gathered some supplies in a backpack.
Then they set off down the trail. It was still hot for April, but Lost Lake was a partial desert.
High temperatures were common. She wasn’t squeamish about the prospect of seeing a dead body.
She’d enjoyed working alongside Wade yesterday and today.
Twenty minutes into the hike, they came upon a burbling creek, one of the tributaries from Lost Lake.
There appeared to be some deeper spots that local kids probably used as swimming holes.
One large oak tree had sprawling limbs and a rope swing.
The water was dark green, rippling with life. It was murky but inviting.
Meredith spotted the downed tree in the distance.
“That’s it,” Wade said, moving in front of her.
She followed him toward the uprooted oak, which stretched across the riverbed.
He gestured for her to stand back as he inspected the alleged gravesite.
Meredith crept forward to peer inside. Thick tree roots had lifted up from the earth, leaving a cavernous space.
Chunks of dirt and woody threads clung to the exposed roots.
There were footprints all around, and even some inside the hole.
“Morons,” Wade muttered.
He used his cell phone to snap photos of the scene. She leaned forward, searching for human remains. She’d expected a skeleton of connected bones, neat and intact. Instead, it looked like tatters of old clothing and loose pieces. A fresh mound of dirt had collapsed over the top.
“I have to get in there,” Wade said, taking off the backpack.
He had an emergency blanket inside made of thin silver material, which he spread on the ground at the edge of the purported grave. Then he put on a pair of blue rubber gloves and stretched out on his stomach. He reached inside the hole and carefully brushed away dirt.
Meredith tried not to notice the interplay of muscles as he worked, but the process was slow and methodical, and she had nowhere else to look.
For several minutes, his lean physique was more interesting than the gravesite.
Then her attention shifted, because what he revealed was startling, and macabre.
A skull stared back at her with dirt-filled eye sockets, teeth bared in a grimace. Bits of debris clung to the bone.
Wade rolled onto his back, breathing heavily. He seemed to have grown tired from the strain of reaching across the space. He removed his gloves and took photos again. Then he covered the remains with dark cloth, dusted off his pants, and rose to his feet.
“How long has it been here?” she asked quietly.
“Years. Maybe decades.”
He spoke into his radio to confirm the 10-45 and request a coroner. The dispatch officer copied that and ended the transmission.
“Do we wait for them?”
“We do not,” he said. “You shouldn’t even be here, and it could take hours. I’ll drop you off and come back.”
He used a roll of yellow tape to mark the scene. He didn’t have stakes, so he tied one end of the tape to a sapling and wrapped the other end around the trunk of a nearby tree. The crime scene tape stretched across the space.
That done, they left the gravesite and returned to the vehicle.
On the way back to the ranch, they settled into a comfortable silence.
Wade listened to the radio chatter, but she tuned it out.
The pickup truck jostled along the country road, rocking her gently, and she was almost drowsy enough to drift off.
Then a morbid thought occurred to her, and she straightened.
“You used crime scene tape,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You think it’s a crime scene?”
“Bodies don’t bury themselves.”
She gaped at him in horror. “You think that person was murdered.”
“Yes.”
“Wow.”
“Are you going to have nightmares?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I thought dead bodies didn’t bother you.”
She hadn’t been bothered by the dearly departed souls in the funeral home, but she’d only worked there a few months. All of the corpses she’d seen had belonged to elderly people who’d died of natural causes. “Have you investigated a murder before?”
“I’m not a homicide detective.”
“But you’re a first responder. You’ve seen victims.”
A muscle in his jaw flexed, and he didn’t answer.
“Sorry,” she said, aware that she’d overstepped her bounds. “It’s a disturbing topic. I shouldn’t have asked.”
They both fell silent again, each lost in their own thoughts. When they arrived at Nolan Ranch, she hopped out, but he stayed behind the wheel. Their eyes met across the cab and lingered.
“You did well today,” he said, surprising her.
His praise warmed her more than it should have. “Thank you.”
“Tell my mom I’ll be home later.”
She nodded and watched him drive away. Daisy and King came to greet her. She petted their heads absently. It was a full minute before she realized she was standing there with a dreamy look on her face, mooning over Wade Hendricks.
Damn the man for being too handsome for his own good, and for having a decent personality, when he felt like showing it.
“Get a grip, Meri,” she told herself. “He probably flirts with everyone.”
Wynona was in the kitchen, listening to soft country music. She had a pot of vegetable soup on the stove. Chico stood at her feet, wagging his tail.
“That smells good,” Meredith said.
“Where have you been?”
“Volunteering,” she said, and bent to pet Chico.
His tongue stuck out on one side, because he’d lost so many teeth. Meredith loved his crooked little face.
“I fed your dogs.”
“Thank you.”
Meredith stood and hugged Wynona’s thin shoulders.
Then she washed her hands before they sat down for dinner.
Wynona nibbled at toast and stirred her soup without interest. Instead of finishing the meal, she rose to make herself a drink.
Whiskey on the rocks. She filled a tumbler of apple juice for Meredith. Wynona didn’t like to drink alone.
When Meredith was done eating, they went out to the porch to sit in cushioned deck chairs. Chico hopped onto Wynona’s lap, which was his favorite place to be in the evenings. Meredith didn’t sit still long enough to suit him.
“The view’s ruined,” Wynona grumbled.
Meredith hid a smile. She meant that Wade’s things had cluttered her front porch. Wynona only liked her own clutter. “He said he’ll be home later.”
“How long is he staying?”
“I don’t know.”
“Patty told me he joined the sheriff’s department. He’s not just helping out temporarily.”
Patty Gonzalez was Wynona’s best friend, partner in crime, and a shameless gossip. Meredith didn’t confirm or deny the information.
“Can you believe the way he hauled me out of the center last night? That was elder abuse.”
Meredith chuckled at the exaggeration. “You’re not elderly, Wynona.”
“You like him.”
Meredith’s amusement faded. She felt vulnerable, after spending so much time with Wade, and reluctant to acknowledge the chemistry between them. Wynona was a canny woman, adept at reading cues.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Wynona said. “He’s been charming women for decades.”
Meredith changed the subject. “I saw some sports trophies in the basement.”
Wynona sipped her drink, saying nothing.
“Who’s Billy?”
“Did Wade mention his brother?” Wynona asked sharply.
“No. I didn’t know he had a brother.”
She took another drink. “He died in November.”
Meredith stared at the other woman in shock. No wonder Wynona had been tightlipped about family issues, and prone to self-medicating. She’d lost a child six months ago. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
Wynona shrugged a slim shoulder. “I took down all the photos after Christmas, and I put away Billy’s trophies.”
“What about Wade’s?”
“I never kept those.”
“Why not?”
“He lived with his father after the divorce. It was his choice.”
Meredith studied her in dismay. It was clear she’d been deeply hurt by Wade’s decision. “How old was he?”
“Ten. Billy was only two at the time, and he needed me. Wade never did.”
“What do you mean?”
Wynona stared across the yard. “Wade was good at everything. School, sports, socializing. He didn’t need help with his homework or reminders to clean his room. I think he could have raised himself. Maybe he did, because he didn’t turn out like his father.”
Meredith wondered what Wade’s father was like. Wynona never talked about him, either. “Tell me about Billy.”
Wynona’s lips curved into a sad smile. “Billy was Wade’s polar opposite. He wasn’t gifted at sports or popular with girls. He struggled academically, and he was always acting out. He was difficult to manage.”
Meredith could see that Wynona was tearing up, so she went inside for a box of tissues. Wynona thanked her and dabbed her eyes.
“What happened to him?”
“They called it an accident,” Wynona said. “Wade found him.”
Meredith reached out to hold her hand. “I’m sorry.”
Wynona’s voice was bleak. “It was my fault.”
“What was?”
“His death.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s true,” she said, blinking rapidly.
“I raised him on my own, and I didn’t know how to help him.
I thought things would be better after I left Boyd, but they weren’t.
I struggled to make ends meet. Billy kept getting suspended from school.
When he was fifteen, I gave up. I sent him back to his father.
By then it was too late. Nobody could control him, not even Boyd. ”
Meredith squeezed her hand in sympathy. “You did your best, Wynona.”
“No,” Wynona said. “I was a mess.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
“Ask Wade if you don’t believe me.”
“You should talk to him,” Meredith urged. “Try and mend things.”
Wynona shook her head and stood. She made them both another drink. Meredith wasn’t thirsty, but she accepted the tumbler of juice. She hoped she wasn’t enabling Wynona by drinking beside her.
They sat and watched the setting sun. Two troubled women, side by side.