Waking the Dead by Kylie Brant Read Free Book Online Page B

“Anatomical specimens can be purchased from a supply house, but that was easy enough to rule out since the bones don’t have amalgam restorations. Fillings,” she explained, when she caught the quizzical look Andrews shot her. “Michaels did a decent job of laying out the remains, but not all the bones matched up with the correct skeleton, so there was some reassembly necessary. And of course not all the bones of each victim are accounted for.” When she saw the sheriff open her mouth, Cait put in, “I’ll go into that more in a minute. Once we aligned the bones correctly, we used calipers and an osteometric board to remeasure them to get more exact approximations. There’s also a computer program that we utilized that is pretty effective at calculating stature. Kristy?” She flicked a glance at her assistant, who silently handed the two law enforcement personnel a copy of their findings. “You’ll note some differences from Michaels’s initial report.”
    “So we know height and sex. And that the bones are human.”
    “We know a bit more than that.” Cait ignored the sheriff’s testy tone. “These weren’t discarded medical specimens, either. Generally those would be bleached white, have hardware attaching the bones together, and the bones would have a more polished appearance from excessive handling. Nor have they had prolonged exposure to soil.”
    “You figure that because they’re clean?” It was the first Barnes had spoken since entering the room.
    “Partially. Bones will take on the color of the surrounding soil. But the acidity of the soil will also eventually erode the surface of the bone.” She indicated the ulna in the specimen closest to her. “That hasn’t happened. Not on any set of remains. I’ve found virtually no trace of sediment on the bone.”
    “But you can tell how old each individual was at time of death, right?” This from Andrews again. She was moving slowly from gurney to gurney, peering at each set of remains as if to derive the answers she was seeking for herself.
    “I can approximate.” She skirted around Andrews and Barnes to retrace her steps toward the first gurney. “For purposes of identification at this time we’re referring to the remains as female A through C and male D through G. Keep in mind the data is very preliminary,” she stressed. Cait was a long way from drawing ironclad conclusions before all the tests were done, but in the course of an investigation, she developed a working set of details that morphed as more information became available.
    Judging from the impatience on the sheriff’s expression, she was more than willing to get to the conclusions, so Cait wasted no more time. “These are all adults. Without the craniums, I have to rely on examination of the auricular surface of the ilium, the sternal ends of the right ribs three through five, and pubic symphysis. None of the remains appear geriatric. I did find evidence of osteoarthritis in female C and males D and G. With all things considered, ages for the individuals range from late thirties to midsixties.”
    “Now we’re getting somewhere.” Andrews’s normally stern expression relaxed into a slight smile. “Got specifics?”
    “Yes, our findings are documented in a copy I prepared for you.” The corner of Cait’s mouth pulled up. “I tried to keep it to layman’s terms as much as possible. Your youngest victim here is female C, approximately thirty-five to forty. The oldest is male D, who was between sixty to sixty-five at the time of death.”
    “Can you tell which one’s been down there the longest?” Andrews took out a handkerchief and dabbed at the moisture on her forehead. Since the temperature in the room was set at sixty-eight, Cait assumed the woman was having a hot flash. Her face had flushed to a bright shade of pink.
    “No. The odds of me being able to pin down the sequence in their deaths are pretty remote. And the trickiest part of this process will be nailing