Page 50 of Obsession

While Chris finished photographing the impressions, Emma elevated her throbbing right hand above her heart as she tapped the trowel against her leg.

“You want me to dig a while?” Sam asked.

“No. I want to see this through.”

“But it’s evident your hand is bothering you.”

She wasn’t about to admit it throbbed like a toothache. “It could be worse.”

“I think you should let me take over for a little while at least.”

“Tell you what,” she said as Chris climbed out of the pit. “Let me work another hour, and then you can give me a break.”

He reluctantly agreed, and she eased down into the pit again. After studying the indentations, Emma shifted her work area closer to the wall. If what she’d found were leg bones, what followed was the foot. Perhaps the grave robber had overlooked some of the smaller bones or even a phalange from a toe.

Time slipped away as she focused on scraping away the dirt, one layer at a time. Emma ignored pain coming from her back and down her leg until it was impossible. Just one more scrape and she would hand it over to Sam for a while.

Her breath caught when the trowel uncovered a speck of something light. Using the brush, she carefully swept away dirt. “Hand me one of those dental picks,” she said.

“What’ve you found?” Sam asked, handing her the tool.

“Not sure. Give me a second.” Gently, she used the pick to remove the dirt around a perfectly preserved bone. The middle phalange of a toe bone if the memory from her A&P class served her correctly. Their thief had overlooked it in his haste. How many small bones had he left behind? Leaving it undisturbed, she climbed out of the pit with Sam’s help and waited for Chris to photograph her find.

“Nate picked up sandwiches,” Sam said. “You want to stop for lunch while Chris finishes?”

She didn’t want to, but just as she started to shake her head, her stomach growled. “Sure.”

A few minutes later, Chris grabbed a sandwich and reported in to Nate, leaving Sam and Emma alone. They ate in silence until their sandwiches were almost gone, then she said, “I wonder what he did with the other bones?”

“I’m thinking the river,” Sam replied.

“Makes sense.” It made her sick to think that whoever had been buried here had been gathered up like garbage and dumped into the river. If that was what happened, they would never find the rest of the bones. Neither of them spoke the question that lay heavy on Emma’s mind. She did not want to speculate who the body belonged to, but she was pretty sure Sam would think it was Ryan.

As if reading her mind, he asked, “Would you be willing to compare your DNA to the DNA they find in the bone?” When she hesitated, he added, “It would be one way to rule Ryan out.”

“It is not my brother!” As soon as the words were past her lips, Emma pressed her hand to her mouth. She must really be tired to snap at him like that. None of this was his fault. She dropped her shoulders and sighed. “Of course I will, if nothing more than to prove it isn’t Ryan. But we have to finish excavating the site first. Maybe we’ll find something that will identify the remains.” And point them away from Ryan.

“Would a billfold still be intact if the body had been buried in the past twenty years?”

At least he didn’t say ten years. “Possibly. But don’t you think our thief would have seen a billfold and taken it with him?”

“Yeah,” he said reluctantly.

Emma finished the rest of her sandwich in silence as a nagging thought kept intruding. What if it were Ryan’s bones? She’d never let herself dwell on the possibility he was dead, always finding a reason why he hadn’t contacted them. The main one being he was afraid of being framed for Mary Jo’s murder. Was she ready to deal with that possibility? But she and her twin had been so close. She’d been told they’d even had their own language as babies ... wouldn’t she have known if her brother was dead?

Regardless of whether it was Ryan or not, the person’s family deserved closure. And justice. She slipped two Tylenol from her pocket and downed them before Sam noticed. If he thought she was in pain, he’d insist on taking over, and Emma wanted to finish the job she’d started. She wadded up the sandwich wrapping. “Ready?”

“Sure. But let me dig a while.”

“Not yet.” When he started to object, she added, “Please.”

“Your hand is bound to be hurting.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Why is this so important for you to do?”

She didn’t know, just that it was. “After someone tried to run me off Thursday night, I have a personal stake in this.” Then she shrugged. “Or maybe it’s because I’m stubborn.”

---