Page 19 of Evil Bones
“To determine exact species or breed and note anything of significance.”
A deep inhalation, out through his nose.
“Yes. I will do this.”
We were halfway down the stairs when my iPhone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and checked caller ID, hoping it was Ryan. It was Slidell.
I answered, suspecting the conversation wouldn’t be pleasant. And the news wouldn’t be good.
I was right on both counts.
CHAPTER 5
As expected, Slidell skipped any of the greetings typically used to open phone conversations.
“They found another goddam dog.Maybea dog.”
“Good afternoon, detective.” In the background, I heard the soft sputter of a police scanner with the volume turned low. Beyond the static, muted traffic sounds. I assumed Skinny was in his car.
Slidell offered one of his guttural non-responses.
“I hope your day is going well,” I said, chipper as Mr. Rogers.
“I spent the last two hours risking a stroke standing out in this freakin’ heat. So, we gonna waste time chewing the fat, or you wanna listen?”
Having reached the bottom tread, I stepped onto the patio and moved off a few feet, making room for Balodis, who was clomping down behind me.
“Go on,” I said.
“The nine one one came in around noon. A counselor from an outfit called Thundercloud or Thunderclap or something.”
“Thunderbird? The YMCA camp outside the entrance to River Hills?”
As a preteen, Katy had spent parts of her summers at Thunderbird, grooming horses and sweeping shit from their stalls. Riding them, too, I assume. Currently, my best friend, Anne, lived in River Hills, a lakeside community down the road from the camp.
“Yeah. That’s it,” Slidell said. “The kid, Huggy Ronstall—who thehell goes by Huggy? Anyway, Ronstall was out in the woods hiking or smoking weed or whatever it is those nitwits do and came across what he thought was a human body. He went home, considered his options, then dimed it.”
I heard the pop of a plastic water bottle being gripped too tightly. Waited out the glugging as Slidell rehydrated.
“The captain had me listen to the audio. The mope sounded like he expected to see his face onDatelinefor nabbing the next Charlie Manson.”
“Ronstall seemed believable?” I prompted, hot and sticky and wanting to wrap this up and get into my air-conditioned car.
Slidell ignored my question.
“The case being of subterranean priority, the assignment fell to yours truly. I got the pleasure of schlepping out to south bejeezus.”
A bee, maybe attracted by the scent of my rose hips shampoo, maybe by the earthy reek of my sweat, began circling my head. I batted it away with my free hand.
“Ronstall was right, and he was wrong.” I heard rhythmic clicking, figured Skinny had activated his turn signal. “His fifteen-minutes-of-fame discovery was a headless corpse, all right. But it wasn’t human.”
“He’d found a decapitated animal.”
“Give the lady a cigar.”
“I assume the scene was processed properly?”
“I knew you’d ask that, what with this sicko beautifying the county with parts of Fido and Lassie.”
