Page 31 of Lone Star Rescue

“An estimate,” the doctor emphasized. “More than fifteen years but less than twenty.”

So, that would fit the time frame for when Tessa disappeared. But were the death and the disappearance connected?

Bree knew that was something the doctor wouldn’t be able to tell her. To get that answer, she’d need to find out who the dead woman was and work backwards.

“They recovered enough of the bones for me to indicate the woman was five six,” the doctor continued. “With a few more tests, I’ll be able to get her eye and hair color in case you need that to narrow down some possibilities. But for now, I’d say look for a woman in her late teens or early twenties who went missing fifteen to twenty years ago.”

A possible teenager. That was another gut punch, and judging from the throaty sound Rafe made, he felt the same way.

“Your ME was right,” the doctor went on, “Other than the blow to the head, no other injuries. I can’t even find a previously healed broken bone, and judging from the remains, she hadn’t been dealing with any obvious medical issues.”

So, she likely hadn’t suffered. Not before death anyway. But Bree got an image of a teenage girl moaning in pain as she bled out from a blow to the head.

“What about the teeth?” Rafe asked. “Did that give you any clues as to her identity?”

“No,” the doctor was quick to say. “As you know, the dental databases are only useful if the missing person’s dentalrecords have been uploaded. Hers weren’t. That’s possibly because the databases weren’t around when she disappeared. Or if she went missing from say a small town, they might not have had the knowledge or resources for the upload.”

Bree wasn’t offended by that. Even though she made sure she and her deputies kept up with their training, new technologies popped up all the time, and sometimes the info didn’t trickle down to rural areas.

“She didn’t go missing from here,” Bree assured the doctor. “A missing woman or a runaway wouldn’t stay a secret for long.”

Rafe made a quick sound of agreement, and he got to work on his phone again. He was no doubt plugging in all the pieces of info that Dr. Kreppner had just doled out to them.

“One last thing,” the doctor added. “I checked with the lab tech who has the leather coat. Rafe had indicated it was probably custom-made, and I wanted to see if there was a date or initials stitched into it. Some tailors do that, but no such luck on this one. But the tech pointed out that, in his opinion, the jacket hadn’t been worn much, that it was possibly new at the time it went into that grave.”

Interesting since Tessa’s jacket was far from new. It was several years old, and Bree recalled that once the lining had to be repaired when Tessa had snagged it on something. Bree would relay that to the lab. However, the moment she put that on her mental to-do list, Rafe pointed to his phone to let her know he was already on that.

“Thank you for this,” Bree told the doctor, and once they’d said their goodbyes, she hung up and looked at Rafe. “If I could afford you, you’d make a really good assistant.”

He smiled. Not for long though. Probably because he knew what they had to do next. “You want me to text Wade and ask him for a meeting, or do you want to do that yourself?”

“I’ll do it.” She paused, considering how this could all play out. She would be giving Wade the good news that it wasn’t his daughter’s bones, but that another family member was dead. Bree had no idea how Wade would handle that news or handle the big question she would have to ask.

Was this dead woman or girl his bio-child?

“I’ll ask Wade to come here,” she muttered while she composed the text. “Best to do this away from the station.”

He made another of those sounds of agreement and continued typing on his own phone. Hopefully, getting them some answers even before Wade arrived.

Shortly after sending the text, she got a response back from Wade, saying he was on his way. Only seconds after that, her doorbell rang.

Bree groaned. No way was it Wade already. She hoped it wasn’t a neighbor coming over to pump her for info about the investigation.

“I’ll go with you to the door,” Rafe insisted.

She certainly hadn’t forgotten about the explosion or the fact that someone might want to cover up an old murder. But seeing Rafe morph into the special ops mode made her up her own stance. She adjusted her body in case she had to draw the gun in her shoulder holster.

They stopped at the door, but Rafe didn’t look out the peephole. Instead, he went to the front window and peered out the side.

Then, he muttered some profanity.

“I’m pretty sure Buckner and two goons are standing on your porch,” Rafe informed her.

“Is he armed?” she asked.

“No visible weapon. The two thugs are carrying concealed beneath their jackets.”

So, Buckner had brought some backup with him, but Bree had her own backup, and she waited until Rafe had stepped right by her side.

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