The Bone Man by Vicki Stiefel Read Free Book Online

comfortable taking a run with Penny down Appleton to Peters Park, our favorite dog park, before I went to see her. I checked my watch. I had to make sure Addy didn’t spot me, or I’d be grilled again about returning to MGAP. I wasn’t really ready to think about that. Choices and more choices.
    Now that she and the governor had that cleansing ceremony, maybe I could talk Didi into carbon dating the skull.
    Penny and I got a good workout at the park, where we met some friends—canine and human—chased balls and Frisbees, and generally had a swell time. So I didn’t much mind leaving Penny home when I went to The Grief Shop, since I planned to scoot in and out.
    Lucky me, I didn’t meet much traffic on the way over, and as I pulled open the side door to OCME, I swore the thing got heavier each year. The lobby was empty. Sarge was probably on one of his frequent breaks. But I found it odd that one of the CSS crew wasn’t standing in for him.
    As I crossed the hall, I saw that CSS was curtained. A meeting or they were performing some of their forensic mumbo jumbo they made look so easy, but was actually intensely complex. I’d hoped for a glimpse of Kranak.
    I punched the keypad, hoping they hadn’t changed the combination from the previous day. The buzzer sounded louder than ever.
    “Damn.”
    I glanced around. Still no one. I let out a small sigh. I eased the door shut and headed down the hall, then to the left. I waved at a tech I recognized who was trotting toward the large autopsy suite. That’s where everyone was, of course, busily carving and sawing away in search of the truth.
    I rounded the corner. A red ballcap lay on the bench. Someone must be in with Didi. I slid it over and sat. I unhitched my purse, weighted down with my digital SLR camera. My shoulder ached, and I rotated it a couple of times.
    I opened the book I’d bought on the Old Ones and read. Interesting stuff, particularly their rock art, which was gorgeous.
    Several chapters later, I checked my watch. I’d been sitting there for twenty minutes. Enough was enough. Whoever was in with Didi was taking forever.
    I knocked, breezed on in, and screamed!
    My voice ricocheted around Didi’s small lab, then quieted. Blood pooled around Didi’s sprawled form. She looked like a red snow angel. Blood had sprayed her face, dripped down to her ears and stained her pewter gray hair.
    He’d slit her throat. And stabbed her.
    I pressed my back against the door. “Didi!” I shouted. “Didi!”
    I blinked faster and faster as I gasped breaths. I desperately tried to hold back the bile surging from my belly.
    Her eyes were open, staring blankly into nowhere. Her head lay at an awkward angle, almost detached from her neck, which . . .
    What was that on the floor? I looked around, saw no one. He couldn’t still be there, could he?
    I inched to the left. Didi’s right arm was slung over her body, her bony index finger, its tip reddish brown, pointing the way, like in some ’30s horror movie. Writing on the linoleum floor.
Bloodfet
    I turned my head and vomited. When I was empty, I wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my jacket.
    Why had I reacted so powerfully to the words she’d written in blood? I didn’t know. Didn’t really even know what they meant.
Bloodfet
?
Oh, Didi, I don’t get it
.
    Where the hell was everyone?
    Somehow, I couldn’t move, except to push my back harder against the door. With one hand, I rooted around in my purse and dragged out my phone. I flipped the phone open, hit a button and mumbled “Gert.”
    Nothing happened.
    I closed my eyes, yet as soon as I reopened them, they fastened on the wreck of Didi. My eyes burned with unshed tears. Didi didn’t deserve this. She didn’t.
    I wanted to kneel in front of her, hold her, stroke her face. I didn’t dare. That would damage the scene. “Oh, Didi, I’m so sorry.” I raised the phone again to my lips. “Gert!”
    The phone dialed itself, beeping as it did so. I couldn’t