Page 103 of ILY
But he’s left the thing behind.
No, not a thing.
A dirty, pale brown set of bones…
In the shape of a human hand.
I make the call.
First, to the local department to get some forensic detectives here so they can declare the property a crime scene, then to my boss. I filter the call through the Bluetooth in my hearing aids while one of the detectives takes down my badge number.
I don’t miss the frustration in Carlo’s voice, as much as I wish I could be too deaf for it. “Do I want to know how and why you’re there to find a set of human fucking bones?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s a long, complicated story. I have some evidence photos with Branson right now. He’s trying to get a match on some cold case files.”
“You went after a cold fucking case, Logasson?”
“No. I went after a man I thought was keeping someone locked in a basement. This just sort of…happened.”
Carlo lets out a soul-deep sigh. “Of fucking course it did. The owner of the property?”
“Not a suspect presently,” I tell him. “The cold case file was started before he was born, and from what I can tell, either birds picked this hand clean, or it’s been underground for decades.”
He’s quiet for so long I think maybe he’s hung up. Then he clears his throat. “It’s going to take me a couple of days to get a team out there. Is this guy going to give us shit about digging around?”
“He’s ready to fully cooperate. You can send me the papers, if you want, to get them signed before I take off.”
“Oh. You’re taking off, are you?”
“This isn’t my area,” I say. I know I’m going to get it for that.
“Neither is leaving your fucking desk. I—” His voice drops off for a beat. “I get it, okay? What’s happening with you, it’s shit. You deserve better than to rot behind a computer, but you know it’s out of my hands.”
“Yeah.” I do know that. Carlo has always been good to me. In his own way.
“I’m going to overlook this. But don’t leave yet. I want you to talk to my guys when they get there. Show them everything you found.”
“Yeah, I can do that. Matias set me up with a rental.”
Carlo groans. “Of fucking course he did. That fucker is going to be hearing from me.”
“Are you coming down?”
“I don’t think I have much choice now, do I? God, my kid has a soccer game on Friday. My wife is going to be pissed.”
Fuck. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you are. I’ll see you in a couple days. Don’t leave,” he reiterates like he’s afraid I’m going to flee. He pauses and then says, “Do I want to know how you got access to the house in order to find this evidence?”
I can’t help a tiny grin as I glance over to see one of the local detectives using Leaf’s shovel to widen the groundhog hole. “Probably not. But it wasn’t illegal.”
“That’s all I give a shit about at this point. Don’t do anything reckless before I get there.”
This time, he does hang up. I fire off a text to Leaf, telling him he might want to look for a room for the rest of the week and promising to head over to him when I’m done.
I don’t wait for a response, shoving my phone back into my pocket when the digging detective stops, then looks up. I know that expression on his face.
I hustle over so I’m in the range to hear him when he says, “It looks like we have a body wrapped in a blanket.”
