Page 15 of Our Daughter's Bones
Dental records would confirm his identity. Mackenzie would be questioned. She would have to lie to protect herself. Would they understand if she told the truth?
It was an accident. She was a minor. She was coerced. All she did was listen to her mother.
She reached the edge of the woods and climbed out of the car. A swarm of squad cars was parked haphazardly. The cool air made her chest rattle. She zipped up her leather jacket and shoved her hands inside her pockets.
Years of police work had instilled in her the ability to detach. She had seen dead women and children. But as she entered the woods, her stomach flipped. It was hard to walk or even stand straight. Dread had slithered up her spine with its icy fingers. Despite being bundled up, she was cold.
The crime scene was a few meters ahead. She didn’t know if that was the spot they had buried him. All she remembered was that it was 317 steps away from her old house. But her entry point into the woods was different this time.
Nature hadn’t changed much. The trees were perhaps taller, the weeds longer. Mackenzie hadn’t returned to the woods since that night. They still echoed her guilt. The branches above looked like a skeleton poking the starry sky.
Lights were installed around an area between the trees. Yellow and black crime scene tape was strung up, defining the perimeter. Wooden stakes were driven into the ground, and the soil was disturbed in the middle.
Mackenzie saw Sully and Nick brooding at the scene. Sully bit his nails while Nick paced around like a caged animal. A cop was interviewing a man in a tracksuit and running shoes as he struggled to control his Great Dane, who wagged its tail and barked at the crime scene. Angela Weiss, a forensic anthropologist with the King county Medical Examiner’s office, Becky and a team of lab techs were there too, dressed in forensic suits and carrying dig bags into the area.
Mackenzie inched closer to the scene. Her palms were damp as she watched Angela brush away the dirt. If Angela was here, they had probably found bones.
“Mack!” Sully called her over.
She followed without tearing her eyes away from the burial site.
“You okay? You look pale,” Sully said.
“Y-yes. What happened?”
“That guy over there was walking his dog,” Sully gestured to the man with the Great Dane, who was now being handed a towel and water. “His dog found something.”
Mackenzie’s heart sank. “Something?”
“Yeah. Well, it was a shallow grave.” He frowned. “Dog started digging and pawed off a bone, I think.”
“Youthink?”
Sully adjusted his belt buckle. “Relax, Mack. Let the techs do their job. I’m going to talk to Tony about expanding the perimeter.”
Mackenzie gritted her teeth and watched them work. Angela sealed an evidence bag that contained soil. From Mackenzie’s experience, it was probably bone fragments. A tech sifted through the dirt and scooped some into a large bucket. Another tech kneeled beside them, taking photographs.
“Do we knowanything?” Mackenzie demanded, running out of patience.
“Why did Sully call you?” Nick asked.
It was the first time in over two months that he had spoken to her directly. All their interactions were limited to indirect addresses during briefing or sending each other formal emails.
“I’m on the Abigail Correia case.” Her chest tightened.
What if they found Robert? Where was the white sheet they had buried him in? She leaned forward to see if there was any cloth, but the moving techs blocked her view. For almost thirty minutes, Mackenzie watched evidence being bagged and cataloged; plastic bags labeled with numbers and letters being passed down and placed in a larger container. She watched Becky’s face pinch in concentration. Her lips moved as she discussed her findings with others. It felt like time had slowed. Mackenzie was lost in her thoughts, and eventually colors began to merge and people’s outlines became vague.
Finally, Becky stood up and removed her gloves and goggles. She ducked under the crime scene tape.
“What––?” Nick asked.
Becky raised her hand. “We have to take the remains to the lab to draw any conclusions.”
“Can you tell me anything?” He pressed. “Sex? Age? Time of death?”
Mackenzie held her breath. Sweat coated the bottom of her feet and the sides of her waist.
“From the subpubic angle and the broader sciatic notch, the victim appears to be female.”
