Page 44 of Into the Fall

“Yep, eager as all get out, bouncing all over the place until I got him to sit outside and wait for you.”

“When he’s back, can you settle him with filing in the back room, have him with you at the front desk, and dispatch him when he’s done?”

“Sure thing. I wanted—” The main phone rang, and he connected a call and interrupted whatever he was going to say. “Sheriff’s office… Sure... No worries, hold, please.” He handed over the receiver. “Dr. Reynolds, ME’s office.”

“Sheriff, hello,” Xavier said, clearing his throat. “So, do you want the good news or bad news?”

Why do people say that? A flicker of irritation sparked in my head, but only because I was already irritable after Dad, plus freaking Connor messing with me. Still, that good or bad news question always felt like an unnecessary intro, as if trying to cushion the blow.

“Hey, Xavier,” I said, trying to keep my impatience out of my voice. “Start with the bad.”

“We can’t get much from the bones just yet,” he said. “It will be a few weeks before we have any substantial information. The condition of the bones is … well, it’s complicated.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “What could the bones be? Any initial thoughts?”

“Given the condition and the context, they could be remains that have been there for decades. Some are animals’, as I suspected. Others are human, potentially female at first glance. We’re considering the possibility of a historic burial site. It’s too early, but we’ll update you as we know more.”

Ice trickled down my spine—I’d been hoping they were all animal bones, end of story.

“Okay, and the good news?”

“I’ll pass you to Tally.”

“Sheriff? It’s Tally Finch.”

“Dr. Finch, hello. What do you have for me?” I hoped for progress with the puzzle.

“The luggage is challenging to work with,” she explained. “We’ve got a family Bible here, but the paper is so thin that it’s difficult to make sense of it without damaging it further.”

I pictured her handling the delicate items, her fingers moving with precision. “What else did you find?”

“Hang on…” There was rustling, and then she cleared her throat. “Besides clothes, we also have a stick deodorant, a compact, a small piece of costume jewelry, a pair of heeled shoes, a silver photo frame, glass smashed, without photos.” She paused. “Or at least the inside photo is long since decayed.”

“Can you narrow anything down for me?”

“If you held a gun to my head, when you take in the fact that the garments are dresses, skirts, and so on, I’d say these are a woman’s possessions, or of course, a male-to-female transition or potentially drag,” she added the last bits in case I wouldn’t consider them. Still, I’d alreadyadded them to my mental list. “Getting details from something buried in mud and water for so long is difficult.”

“How can you find anything at all?”

“It’s a painstaking process. We have to clean and preserve each item carefully. Sometimes, we use special chemicals to stabilize the materials. Other times, it’s a matter of patience and a steady hand. Each piece can tell us something, even if it’s just a small detail,” she explained, her voice steady and focused. “These personal effects can give us clues about the person’s life, but it takes time to fit it all together.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “I understand. Any chance of DNA from the possessions?”

“Very unlikely.”

Disappointment overwhelmed me.Shit. “Okay, can you keep me updated on any progress?”

“I’ve uploaded photos of what we have to a secure area. I’m sending you access now.” My phone pinged with a notification.

“Thank you.”

As I hung up, my mind still buzzed with questions, and I scrolled through the photos. The bible was promising if there was any chance it had a name somewhere that could be retrieved. The photo frame was a possible clue. But whether the luggage and its contents were connected to the bones? Who knew? The mystery of the bones and the belongings was far from solved, but at least we were progressing. Slowly but surely.

“Unc—Sheriff?” Jason called out, his arms laden with folders, each as precarious as the next. He juggled themand caught them at the last minute, a puff of dust escaping. I stepped forward to help him place them on the desk.

“Your coffee and a donut that Solomon said you liked are on your desk,” Jason continued, straightening and lowering his voice. “I need to ask a question, and I don’t want Solomon to think I’m stupid, but he said I needed to file these in order, and I’m stuck.”

This was promising. “Go on.”

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