Time of Departure by Douglas Schofield Read Free Book Online Page B

grave. Two bodies. Snead thinks they’re from that case!”
    I felt faint. I closed my eyes. “Can’t be…”
    â€œWell, let’s find out! I’ve got meetings all morning. Go see what Terry’s got. You can brief me this afternoon.”
    I was struggling for words. A few seconds passed.
    â€œClaire?”
    â€œI’m here. I’ll go.” My mind was in turmoil.
    â€œGreat. See you later.” He disconnected.
    I slid behind the wheel of my car. I was feeling light-headed. I sat there for a minute, taking deep breaths. Finally, I started the engine.
    I took exaggerated care on the drive home, the way people do when they’ve had too much to drink.

 
    7
    â€œClaire Talbot! Always a pleasure!”
    Associate Chief Medical Examiner Terry Snead didn’t climb to his feet when I entered his small office in the basement of the UF Pathology Department. Instead, he rolled his chair back from his desk and relaxed into a half recline so he could look me up and down. I knew Terry had a crush on me, and I’ll admit to exploiting his feelings occasionally over the years when I’d needed to squeeze an extra bit of investigative work out of him.
    Terry didn’t really know how to flirt creatively. Twenty years of adult life might have pruned away most of the awkward mannerisms of the congenital nerd, but behavioral artifacts remained. It was still possible to detect the brilliant but guilelessly uncool college kid of an earlier time. For me, one of the main indicators was the gape of undisguised admiration that I was being greeted with at that very instant.
    â€œYou know,” Terry said, “you should come around here more often.”
    â€œYeah, I know.” I finished the tired joke for him. “The place is dead—needs livening up.”
    â€œHey, I heard a new one! A mortician and a blonde walk into a bar—”
    â€œTerry!” After the events of the past week, I was in no mood for this.
    â€œOkay, okay! It’s great to see you.”
    The office had a single guest chair. I sat. I was wearing a dress, so I didn’t cross my legs, because I wanted Terry’s full attention.
    â€œI’m guessing you’re here about that find down at Bronson.”
    â€œSam asked me to come. Is this for real? Two bodies from that old case?”
    â€œAs I told your boss, everything’s just preliminary. We’ll need a lot more to be certain, but one of them looks pretty promising. Since they were both found in a single grave.” He gave a little open palm gesture, as if to say, ergo.
    â€œWho found them?”
    â€œThe way I heard it, a work party was clearing brush and a survey crew was following behind, shooting in a line of stakes to guide the excavators. You’ve probably seen them yourself on road projects—those flagged stakes that are marked for ‘cut’ or ‘fill.’”
    I hadn’t, but I nodded knowingly so he wouldn’t launch into a mini-lecture on civil engineering. My tactic almost failed, because he stared off into space and muttered, “I wonder why they were doing it the old way.”
    Here we go, I thought. I decided to play along for a second. “What do you mean?”
    â€œShooting line and using a level to mark the stakes. Nowadays, they can use GPS for everything, even the z -value.” I held my tongue while he thought it through. Finally, he gave me a eureka look and said, “That must be it!”
    I took the plunge. “What?”
    â€œPoor communication with the satellites. Maybe a solar flare. I should check that.” He made a move toward his computer.
    â€œTerry! Could you do that later?”
    â€œOkay, sorry. So, at one point, the survey guys were skirting along the top edge of an embankment. One of the chainmen pounded in a stake, and the ground on the face of the embankment subsided a bit. The guy didn’t pay much attention, but when