Page 47 of Unnatural Death

“Real or not, we’ve got to do our best to prove or disprove it,” I reply. “We can’t pretend the footprint doesn’t exist, as much as we might wish otherwise. And if it’s fake and was planted, then obviously we need to determine who did it and why.”

“Cate Kingston is thirty-one, born in Boise, Idaho, got her Ph.D. from Idaho State University.” Lucy is reading information displayed in the lenses of her AI-assisted glasses. “She’s well respected in the fields of evolutionary anthropology and primatology. Studied under Jeff Meldrum, regarded as the world’s foremost Sasquatch expert.”

“He’s the Jane Goodall of the Bigfoot world,” Marino is quick to inform us. “I’ve seen him on TV when he gets called to places when there’s a sighting. Or where footprints and other evidence have been left.”

“And the enthusiasm you’re showing right now isn’t good for you,” Lucy reminds him. “Try to keep a lid on it, Marino.”

“All I’m saying is Doctor Kingston learned from the best.” She began at UVA a year ago, her course “Tales of the Cryptid: The Reality of Bigfoot” the most popular on campus. She’s also worked with the police on various cases involving skeletal remains, Lucy continues to inform us.

“Not around here but in Idaho while she was still living there,” she says.

“That would explain why I’m not familiar with her,” I reply.

I regularly work with area forensic anthropologists, including those at the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C. I know experts in almost any specialty one might imagine. But there’s no one I would approach about alleged Sasquatch evidence.

“If you feel Doctor Kingston is worth the risk, we can ask what she thinks,” I say to Lucy. “She’s worked with the police and should understand discretion. I’ll let you reach out if you feel that makes sense.”

“She’s got to see the cast I made,” Marino replies.

“I’ll talk to her, and if there are no red flags, we’ll see what she can do to help,” Lucy says. “We need to figure out everything we can, and no one in the Secret Service labs is qualified to examine that kind of footprint.”

“Or any footprint.” Marino can’t resist giving her another stick.

“We also don’t need the public thinking that we’re trying to determine if Bigfoot exists and left a footprint somewhere,” she says, and that might be the biggest reason she’s not fighting Marino over the evidence.

Rumors and misinformation about such a thing aren’t what the Secret Service wants all over the news.

CHAPTER 18

LUCY OPENS THE REMOTE’S wall-mounted steel Faraday box that blocks all electromagnetic signals and has a combination lock. Tucking her phone, her computer-assisted glasses inside, she tells us to do the same with our electronic devices.

“You know the routine,” she says, and Marino’s and my phones go in next.

I take off my nickel-plated smart ring, essentially a fitness tracker that alerts me of messages, among other things. I place it inside, and we’re in a communication blackout except for any electronics the Secret Service may have installed.

“Ready?” Lucy closes the Faraday box, spinning the dial.

“Ready as we’ll ever be.” Gripping the handle of a stretcher, I use my foot to unlock the wheels.

We push the bodies out of the airlock, entering the first compartment to loud fans blowing. I can see my breath, the sharp odor of disinfectant making my eyes water. Racks of empty steel trays are stacked to the ceiling where I spot a small white dome that’s a new addition. The security camera isn’t ours, and I worry there might be one inside the vestibule.

If so, I didn’t see it. But we were talking freely, and I wouldn’t have if I’d known about cameras that weren’t installed by us. Marino and I had no idea anyone might have been listening, and I ask Lucy about it.

“Cameras are in every compartment, not all of them easily spotted,” she answers as if it’s no big deal.

“I need to know if we’re being monitored.” I’m thinking of every word I’ve said so far, especially about Bigfoot evidence and Maggie Cutbush.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Lucy assures me.

“And we’re supposed to just take your word for that?” Marino says.

“Yes. By now, you should know you can trust me.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Lucy,” I reply. “Considering the problem with leaks we’re having? This makes me very nervous. God forbid we get hacked.”

“No shit,” Marino replies. “Cameras, microphones in here are a bad idea. No matter what, it creates a huge liability. Not that you guys care what I say. It appears you just did whatever the hell you wanted like you own the joint.”

“We sort of do own the joint. And the point of the REMOTE is we can deal with sensitive casesremotely,” Lucy says. “Ultimately, it’s for this very type of situation.”

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