Page 88 of Evil Bones
I’d met Acorn several times over the years. Folio briefings, strategy sessions, police charity events, that sort of thing. But I’d never worked with the guy.
That said, my limited exposure to Acorn had been enough to form an opinion. For once, I couldn’t disagree with Skinny and the others.
Acorn was a pompous prick with a ninety-ton chip on one shoulder. A man with an elevated view of himself. A man who always insisted on having the last say.
Acorn’s vehicle was part of the usual crime scene carnival in the McDowell parking lot to which Slidell had been directed. The MCME and CSU trucks. Several CMPD cruisers. An armada of unmarked cars. Cordelia Park all over again.
A pair of vans each bore the logo of a local TV affiliate, one for ABC and the other for CBS. A news crew sat inside one. A cameraman and an on-air reporter stood outside the other. Both looked annoyed at being denied access to the actual body recovery. Blood and gore boosts ratings, and they weren’t getting the footage.
Like Slidell, Acorn drove an SUV. Unlike Skinny’s, his was black.
Acorn was waiting behind the wheel, one hand clutching a YETI cup, the other hanging from an arm draped around the back of the passenger seat. A very long arm.
Slidell and I alighted. I hauled my recovery kit from the trunk, then we started toward the black SUV.
On recognizing Slidell, Acorn muscled himself out onto the pavement, long, skinny limbs working in oddly graceful concert. Yielding to the heat, he’d abandoned his jacket and wore only a short-sleeved blue shirt and khaki pants—size 36 giraffe. His tan leather shoes looked like the product of a factory in Verona.
The two men greeted each other when five feet apart.
“Detective.”
“Detective.”
“DOA’s still here?” Slidell asked.
Acorn nodded. “The little lady ME’s been and gone. Her recovery team is waiting until CSU clears the scene.”
Little lady ME? I said nothing.
Acorn’s gaze slid to me, then back to Slidell. His right eye was such a deep earthy brown it was impossible to distinguish iris from pupil. His left eye was the milky blue of over-washed denim.
“Doc Brennan’s been working these animal cases,” Skinny offered in justification for my presence. “I understand this new one’s jazzed up like the others?”
“She’s working them how?” Acorn asked, ignoring Slidell’s question.
“She knows bones. Now, you gonna tell me what we got here?”
“It sure as hell ain’t bones.”
Crossing his arms and spreading his feet, Slidell drilled Acorn with a laser stare.
“Okay, genius. It ain’t bones. How about you tell us what the fuck itis.”
“I think it’s best you see for yourself.”
CHAPTER 20
Adina was right. The doer was escalating.
That was my first horrified reaction.
Acorn had led us through the woods to a ten-foot square marked off with yellow police tape. The enclosed area had been cleared of all low-hanging vines and ground creepers, vegetation which now lay in a heap to one side.
A pair of uniforms stood guard, feet spread, thumbs hooked into their Sam Browne belts. Both sported dark Aviator Ray-Bans, making their eyes impossible to read.
The two CSU techs wore white, hooded, front-zippered coveralls. One was dictating notes into his phone as the other shot video.
The two-person MCME team waited off to one side. A folded body bag lay at their feet.
