Skye Cree 03: The Bones Will Tell by Vickie McKeehan Page A

themselves out of the car and into the morgue. 
    While Skye watched the fifty-six-year-old medical examiner, Roger Bayliss, get ready for their meeting, she decided everything she’d heard about the man was true. Dressed in blue scrubs, Bayliss wasn’t exactly the welcoming sort.
    All business, g ruff and surly at times, the no-nonsense, board-certified coroner had been at his job for a quarter of a century. Before that, his goal had been what most med students hope for, to open his own practice. But that all changed after Bayliss realized meeting people on a daily basis might not be his forte. His patients complained that his bedside manner bordered on abrupt and rude, and that was on a good day.
    Giving up his private practice forced Bayliss to apply for a job at the county. He soon discovered the medical examiner’s office a much better fit. Unlike his former patients, these people didn’t seem offended with every churlish word that flowed out of his mouth.
    With all his years on the job, the man had his autopsies down pat. The weighing of organs, the measuring of bones, the taking of photos—even speaking into a recorder to note the particulars of a case in his gravelly voice usually took him no more than an hour at most to complete.
    But today his reputation as a grouch was evident.
    Skye noted the man’s irritation at having outsiders taking up space in what he considered his domain. Skye already knew Bayliss didn’t like onlookers or a crowded work space. It was widely known dealing with either one made him testy. Today the man had to contend with both.
    T he room was fairly large, but with four extra people lurking at Bayliss, it got crowded pretty quick. Joining her and Josh, were Harry and a forensic anthropologist named Dawson Hennings. They all stood like statues doing their best not to make any unnecessary movements as they waited for the first directive from Bayliss. Surely he wouldn’t throw out the people who’d driven across town to observe. Observe what, Skye wasn’t exactly sure. All she knew was she had to be here.
    S he knew going in Bayliss didn’t have a lot to work with, in fact, none of them did. Because of that Skye didn’t think Bayliss would let them stay for too long. That’s why she intended to make her time here count.
    S he watched as Bayliss began to spread out the bones. He set the skull down first, then the femur, the tibia came next, along with the patella. Lastly, he placed the mummified hand down on the exam table.
    The sparse number of bones laid out on the stainless steel made for an eerie, yet incomplete sight.
    She turned to Harry. “According to your message this morning there were no fingerprints lifted from the note accompanying these first set of bones and none found anywhere on the box, right?”
    “ That’s right. The lab already went over the newspaper tucked inside and found it didn’t yield a single clue, not even under ultraviolet light. This morning three detectives went over last night’s surveillance tape of the building. On my way over, they called to say the tape shows a messenger service dropped off that second box. They’re checking now on who placed the order.”
    “It won’t lead back to him,” Josh said with some confidence. “Any bets on whether or not he used a phony name?”
    “Probably.”
    “If we could just cut the chatter,” Bayliss protested. He glanced around the room to make sure the intruders had put on their latex gloves. Satisfied, Bayliss kicked the ball to the opposition. “What exactly are you hoping for here, Drummond?” he barked. “A cause of death?” Bayliss shook his head. “You won’t get that from me, not today. Whoever boxed these up and sent them to you knew exactly what he was doing, knew these particular bones of this particular victim wouldn’t give up how they died. He gave you just enough to pique your interest and mine, but not enough to tell us much else.”
    “Then give us what you have got,”