Page 29 of Unnatural Death

“Five feet at its widest,” Tron tells me. “One whole side is caving in.”

“We don’t want it collapsing further,” I reply. “Do we know how deep it is?”

“Deep enough that when you shine a light down you can’t see the bottom,” Marino replies as I block out a creeping sense of dread.

“You don’t need to go in there,” Tron says to me. “Lucy and I are the ones with high-angle rescue training. We can take care of getting him out while you guide us from above.”

“No question you’re more qualified. But the victims are my responsibility. Something goes wrong, and the buck stops with me.”

“No way I could fit, as big as I am.” Marino begins with the expected excuses about why it won’t be him doing the honors. “We’re better off if I’m helping with the ropes.”

I don’t let on that he can’t tolerate the idea of tight spaces. I never assumed it would be Marino descending into a collapsing hole in the ground with nothing but nylon lines to hold him as he dangles over what could be a bottomless pit for all he knows. We’ve been through this before in confined scenes like burned-down, caved-in and exploded buildings.

Also, elevator shafts, and sewer and steam tunnels. Not so long ago it was a dried-up well where a murder victim’s body had been discarded. Marino is claustrophobic. He can’t even have an MRI scan without taking a sedative.

“I’m going to need plastic trash bags, rubber bands and the bolt cutters,” I explain to everyone. “Once we have the male victim out, Marino and I will deal with the body in the lake.”

Before I do anything else, I need a quick overview to get the lay of the land. I direct this at Tron, explaining that I want to see things for myself, starting with how the assailant accessed the campsite. I’d like to be shown the location of the closest trail camera.

“While you do that, I’ll give Lucy the nickel tour,” Marino says.

* * *

Between the pup tent and the woods are clusters of evidence flags accompanied by numbered markers. A laser scanning station has been set up, and investigators are taking photographs.

“You need any help?” one of them calls out as Tron and I walk through.

“We’re not going very far, just to where the closest camera was set up,” she says. “If you hear me shooting at something, come running.”

The footpath begins next to the mine’s entrance with its fadedDANGERandGO AWAYwarning signs. As we get close, I can see burned and withered foliage caused by flamethrowers and herbicides. I imagine the Mansons in the woods with their guns as an intruder they couldn’t see closed in on them.

“It must have been shocking to hear bullets hitting something that isn’t stopping,” I say to Tron.

This is the first chance we’ve had to talk alone. I intend to ask a few questions that Lucy isn’t answering.

“They knew their time was up,” Tron says. “That’s for sure.”

“Then what?” I ask her. “It was two against one, and it sounds like the Mansons weren’t exactly shrinking violets.”

“Obviously, they were completely overpowered.”

“How?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Tron says. “I guess it depends on what you find. I don’t know how they died, only that it must have been unpleasant.”

“Do we know if they had any of their lanterns or flashlights turned on at the time of the attack?” I ask. “What have you been able to reconstruct?”

My thoughts continue returning to the yellow-tipped bullet she dug out of a tree. It would make sense if the intruder had been armed. Assuming he knew much about the victims, he would have expected them to have their guns out and ready. It’s hard for me to imagine an assassin showing up empty-handed. And as Marino likes to say,don’t bring a knife to a gunfight.

“The camping lanterns we’ve found are shattered,” Tron explains. “But it doesn’t appear they were turned on at the time. The switches are in theoffposition.”

“As overcast and foggy as it was, I’m going to assume it would have been as dark as outer space,” I reply. “One or both of them would have had their phones, I would expect. They probably were watching the livestream from the trail cameras and could hear something big and aggressive headed in their direction.”

“I’m fairly confident no lights were on. More analysis has to be done, but that’s the way it’s looking,” Tron says. “You wouldn’t want to make yourself an illuminated target. If there was no way to escape, your instinct would be to hide. You’d sit tight in the dark waiting with weapons loaded and ready, hoping and praying you survive.”

“Did they have night-vision capabilities? Do we know?” I ask.

“We found a thermal imaging scope that’s broken like everything else. But it wouldn’t have done any good,” Tron says. “The bad guy wasn’t going to show up on it just as he didn’t on the trail cameras or the helicopter’s FLIR.”

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