Page 12 of Promise Keeper

While I puttered in the kitchen with coffee and cookies, I listened to their discussion.

Walter explained that Pamela had some information that would help identify who the bones belonged to in life.

"I've reconstructed the skeletal structure, and measured and examined for identifying features and cause of death," she began. "There are several bones missing including six ribs, the middle phalange on the right hand, the index on the left, and two vertebrae. What I've determined is that the deceased was a white male of Western European origin, he was approximately thirty years of age at the time of his death, and I estimate his death occurred one hundred years ago. He'd suffered several broken bones during his lifetime, the one in his fibula healed poorly, and would've resulted in a limp."

"Is there a cause of death?" Ben asked.

"Yes," she said, "he died of a skull fracture."

"Homicide?"

"The fracture pattern indicates blunt force trauma with a thin, rod-like object."

"Something like a tire iron," Walter added.

"So we're looking for a guy hit in the head with a tire iron one hundred years ago," Ben surmised. "Give me something hard next time, Walter."

The three of them chuckled.

I had no clue how Pamela got all of that information from a deconstructed skeleton missing some bones, but I was in awe. I'd never had hero worship before, but was experiencing something very close. The woman could basically talk to bones. She looked and deciphered and they told her a story. I'd never wanted to be able to do something so badly in my life.

"Could you tell where the bones came from?" Ben asked. "Had they been in the ground, or were there signs of outdoors, bugs, or wildlife?"

"There was some dust, but there was no dirt or signs of insects that are typically found during the stages of decay. The bones were kept dry and in a climate controlled environment. There were some signs of being stored in humidity, but not to a large extent."

"They were kept inside, then?"

"I wouldn't say it was incorrect to believe they could have been housed in a barn or shed, or somewhere similar," she said.

The doorbell rang again. "That's them," Ben said, bolting up from his chair.

"Who?" Walter asked. "I was hesitant to show up on your doorstep this late, and here you're expecting company. Are you having a party?"

"No," Ben said, striding toward the hallway. "The news wants an update, so I'm talking live on the air."

"Oh, big shot!" Walter teased.

Ben opened the door and Andy came in ushering a gorgeous Alexis Hartline in four inch heels, a skin tight dress, and a waft of expensive perfume. Despite the height and tightness of her apparel, she exuded grace and class, whereas, I would've looked like an out-of-date hooker in her outfit.

Andy made introductions, and Alexis took an immediate interest in Walter and Pamela. "This is more than I expected," she said. "Let's get the three of them wired with mics," she said. "Three professionals who can speak to this atrocity are better than one, right?"

Ben's expression was equally relieved and disappointed. His amount of the limelight had just been reduced by two thirds.

Alexis poked through the downstairs rooms--living room, family room, dining room, and kitchen. "I don't think the urgency of the situation comes through inside. It's too cozy. Let's do it outside."

"Told ya," Andy said, grinning at her.

I raised my eyebrows at him in warning. That better not be flirting I saw.

He rolled his eyes at me and knelt to his black box of audio and visual equipment. "Who wants to be mic'd first?"

"Ladies first," Ben said, gesturing for Pamela to take the lead.

"You go next," Walter said to him.

Ben smirked. "No, age before beauty. I insist."

"Respect your elders, boy," Walter said, giving Ben a pop on the arm.

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