Page 47 of Finding Chaos

Chapter 22

Walker

Isped through the streets and onto the familiar road that connected Mountain View to the neighboring town of Canfield. Most of my family now had homes in this town. Only today wasn’t a social visit or needed grocery trip. This was work-related.

I pulled into the coroner’s office parking lot. Sheriff Weller had his cowboy hat pulled down over his eyes and was leaning on the SUV with his arms crossed and his eyes closed.

I parked next to him then stepped out of my truck. “Napping on the job, Clark?”

He shifted the hat to peer at me, his eyes bloodshot. “Thanks to the mess you and your girlfriend found, none of us got any sleep last night.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I groused as I stomped toward the coroner’s door.

“That was a fast exit. Did you already scare her off?”

“Be thankful I did. She would have exposed all of us.” I yanked open the coroner’s door and followed the path to autopsy.

“Walker.” Clark pulled me to a stop. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

“Yeah, and so does your wife,” I countered and continued walking, only stopping outside the medical examiner’s office. The coroner’s head was down and he was rubbing his temples. My headache was forming just as fast as the doctor’s.

Clark rapped his knuckles on the doorframe, and Doctor Renner lifted bleary eyes toward us, shoving the glasses up his nose. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“Not a problem, Doc. We’re just checking in to see if you’ve found anything yet.”

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk.

“Thanks.” I slid into one, sat forward elbows rested on my knees. Clark settled on the other chair.

“So, what do you know?” Clark asked, tipping his hat farther out of his eyes.

Renner sighed and rubbed knuckles on his chin stubble. “The bones brought in so far are all women, and judging by their pelvic bones, they’ve all given birth.” He glanced at me. “I understand your acquaintance was inquiring about that.”

I glanced at Clark and lifted a brow. “I might have mentioned it.”

“What else?” I prodded.

“Besides that, there isn’t much to tell. They were all female. They all look as though they’d given birth at one time or another. I’ve only examined one specimen in detail. It’s pretty safe to say the gunshot wound to the head probably killed her, but I won’t know for sure until I go over all the bones. It looked as though several of the others had striations over various bones. That’s all I know so far. I’ve sent off what samples I can for DNA testing to try and get you IDs, and we’ve sent in other samples for toxicology reports. We’re at the beginning stages of trying to put these pieces together.”

He rose and gestured for us to follow, and we did. He swiped his ID and pushed open another door, where items sat on the metal slabs instead of bodies. “These were the belongings and other things that have been recovered from the Pit. I think some of the packs were from hikers. A quick search of the personal items showed some of the people were still alive, as if they’d just lost their belongings.”

“Or were stolen,” I countered, knowing the Banshee had taken things from the Bennett homestead.

“Right.” The doc pointed to another table. “And then there are these items.”

Dirty dresses with rips and frayed hems with dark patches had been spread out on another stainless steel slab. He gestured to one area. “This is dried blood, which might be helpful in identifying the victims.”

He gestured to another table. “All of these are empty cans, and judging by the expiration dates, I’d say they were in the Pit for a long time. Probably over a decade or two. Some of these products and companies no longer exist.”

“I know a couple of these jars. They aren’t old,” I said, sliding into a pair of gloves. I lifted it by the lid and turned it over to point out the month and year written in black marker on the bottom. “Clara just canned these a month ago.”

“What would Clara’s canning stuff be doing down in the pit?” Clark asked.

“They were at our old homestead on the mountain. She helps me stock the ranger station and our old homestead.” I lifted my gaze to Clark’s. “You need to get the Banshee to talk. She was the only one alive who could have stolen the food. And she had some when I found her and Putnam in the cave.”

“Your brother is working on that,” Clark said.

The doctor held up his hand. “Are you suggesting that someone has been living with all of these bones? Someone still alive?”

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