Page 27 of Unnatural Death

“I’d say that’s a wise decision,” I reply.

“Well, we need to figure out something, because we can’t leave it out here for others to find,” Tron says, and I would expect Pepper to have special features that should remain secret.

“I’m going to power him off for now, no point to burning up the battery.” Lucy does it while she talks. “If we don’t find a way to recover him, I’ll have to reformat, returning him to the factory settings, so to speak.”

“No eye in the sky while we’re working,” Marino says. “That’s too bad since we don’t know for sure what’s roaming around out here. I hope we’re safe, and I’m not kidding.”

“At least we’ll still be alerted about anything in the air that might be headed in this direction,” Lucy says.

“Like what?” Marino wants to know.

“Drones that aren’t ours and other aircraft,” Lucy says. “The media, for example.”

“And that will happen soon enough. The quicker the bodies are recovered, the better.” Tron returns the cordless saw to its plastic case.

“I don’t guess any other footprints have showed up,” Marino says to her, and she shakes her head.

CHAPTER 11

WHAT’S YOUR ASSESSMENT ABOUT what went on out here?” I hand Tron a bottle of water as we continue talking inside the pup tent.

“Whoever’s responsible wants to make this as difficult as possible,” she says.

“Making it hard while making a mockery.” Lucy defogs the goggles of a full-face respirator. “The ultimate rush these days is creating headline news, and what’s happened out here will do it.”

“Here’s the latest.” Tron shows us what’s inside the plastic evidence baggies without opening them. “I just collected these.”

The four mushroomed copper-jacketed lead slugs and a myriad of fragments were near the entrance of the footpath, she explains. The Mansons were waiting with their guns early this morning in the rainy dark.

“These and other spent rounds were just lying there in the leaves.” She places the baggies inside a manila envelope that she begins to label and initial with a Sharpie. “We’ve recovered ten intact slugs and countless fragments so far. And then I found this just a few minutes ago.”

Inside another clear plastic bag is a copper-jacked bullet tarnished brown like an old penny. The large-caliber slug has a pointed nose that’s only slightly flattened and oddly painted yellow.

“Armor-piercing.” Lucy takes a close look, and I catch a flicker of anger.

“Probably, depending on what it’s made of,” Marino says as he and I continue getting ready inside the pup tent. “Obviously not lead or it would have been deformed or fragmented when it hit the tree.”

“If it’s what I think it is, the core is hardened carbon steel,” Lucy says.

“You’ve seen this type of bullet before?” Marino gives her a distrusting look. “What else aren’t you telling us?”

“I’m going to conjecture it was fired by a rifle and not a handgun, but it’s too soon to say. The labs will have to examine it.” That’s as much as she’ll explain.

“Is this what you were cutting out of the tree when we got here?” I ask Tron.

“Yes. It hadn’t penetrated very far. The metal detector led me to it.”

“And it’s the only one found?”

“That’s correct. But it doesn’t mean there aren’t others.”

“The question is how long it’s been here,” I wonder. “And did the Mansons have a variety of guns? Maybe at some earlier time they were shooting a rifle in the area? Or a handgun that could fire armor-piercing ammo?”

“Based on our surveillance, Huck and Brittany weren’t out here target practicing. They drew as little attention to themselves as possible,” Tron says. “But at the moment we can’t say who shot the bullet or when. Or from what location.”

“And usually, bullet penetration tips are plastic and not painted. They’re not yellow.” Marino holds up the evidence baggie, looking at the slug inside from every angle, feeling the weight of it. “A hefty two hundred and fifty grains, maybe more, I’m betting.”

He takes photographs of the projectile through the plastic, and I know what he’s doing. He’s sending images to firearms examiner Faye Hanaday. He’s doing it right under the Secret Service’s nose. If Lucy is aware, she doesn’t indicate it. Since she doesn’t miss much, I’m assuming what he’s doing is of no concern to her for some reason.

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