month. What if you told them the Kretzers had buried their own capsule out here and marked it with a stick. It’s full of personal mementos, and they’re afraid they’ll never find it without the marker. So when they thought Artie had stolen their marker, they called you.”
Gordon nodded appreciatively. “That could work. At least for the kids.”
“I can spin it,” Jake said.
Gordon shook Jake’s hand. “Thanks.”
Once Jake and the dog were out of sight, Gordon perused the area. Even in the deep shadows he could see spots of freshly turned dirt, all of it confined to one small area. Artie’s doing, Gordon figured. After documenting the overall scene with his pocket camera, he crept closer, crouching near the pile of dirt. Given nothing nearby looked disturbed, he figured contamination wasn’t a problem. But he pulled a pair of gloves on anyway.
Then he used his flashlight. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told the boys what an effective tool it was. The oblique light revealed what looked like a stripped branch protruding from the ground. Had he not been looking for it, he’d never have recognized it for what it was.
Another bone.
Chapter 7
In the Kretzers’ living room, Gordon set his coffee cup on the cherry end table. He sensed the conflicting emotions in Rose. Pierce Asel was her dream guest, enjoying several helpings of everything Rose offered him. And since there were plenty of leftovers from yesterday’s party, she had a lot to offer.
On the other hand, the only reason Asel was sitting in Rose’s living room was because he’d identified several more bones as human. Rose, of course, had insisted he make time for a nosh while he explained their findings. She hadn’t had to twist his arm. On either front.
Asel’s enthusiasm had been evident as he’d described how he’d identified the first bone as human, and how the ones they’d found today seemed to match. Heck, Gordon was starting to like the man. He’d sounded excited when Gordon had called, and had shown up in record time. They’d excavated the area, carefully extracting the bones. A cursory search of the surrounding area hadn’t revealed anything, but short of digging up acres of woodland, there was no way of knowing whether there were more bones.
Gordon watched Asel spoon a generous dollop of whipped cream from a cut-crystal bowl into his coffee cup. Kaffee mit Schlag, Rose called it. Although he normally took his coffee black, Rose had convinced him to make the exception. It made her happy, and to tell the truth, he enjoyed the way the decadently rich, thick cream melted into Rose’s aromatic brew.
“So,” Rose said. “What you are telling me is someone buried bones in our yard? How could this be?” She stared at the empty spot on the couch beside her. “Sam should be here to hear this. But nothing stops his pinochle game on Sundays.”
Reluctantly, Gordon shifted his thoughts from whipped cream and pastries, and men playing cards, to the newly discovered bones. “We can’t say for certain they’re inside your property line. I’m going to have to get the official surveys. But we’re going to be investigating. For starters, how long have you and Sam lived in this house?”
“Since 1959,” Rose said. “Newlyweds, almost, when we came to Mapleton. We never knew about any bones.”
Asel wolfed down a finger sandwich and raised his hand. He swallowed and wiped his mouth. “I don’t think the bones have been in the yard that long. Thirty, forty years, but that’s only a guess right now.”
Rose’s eyes popped open. “You mean someone buried them while we were living here?”
“They’re not close to the house, Rose. Easy enough for someone to sneak in at night—maybe while you weren’t home to notice. We’re not even positive they’re on your property.”
“Still, I don’t like it. Megan—she used to play in the woods with her friends. Like little pirates, even. Digging for treasure. Mein
Gordon nodded appreciatively. “That could work. At least for the kids.”
“I can spin it,” Jake said.
Gordon shook Jake’s hand. “Thanks.”
Once Jake and the dog were out of sight, Gordon perused the area. Even in the deep shadows he could see spots of freshly turned dirt, all of it confined to one small area. Artie’s doing, Gordon figured. After documenting the overall scene with his pocket camera, he crept closer, crouching near the pile of dirt. Given nothing nearby looked disturbed, he figured contamination wasn’t a problem. But he pulled a pair of gloves on anyway.
Then he used his flashlight. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told the boys what an effective tool it was. The oblique light revealed what looked like a stripped branch protruding from the ground. Had he not been looking for it, he’d never have recognized it for what it was.
Another bone.
Chapter 7
In the Kretzers’ living room, Gordon set his coffee cup on the cherry end table. He sensed the conflicting emotions in Rose. Pierce Asel was her dream guest, enjoying several helpings of everything Rose offered him. And since there were plenty of leftovers from yesterday’s party, she had a lot to offer.
On the other hand, the only reason Asel was sitting in Rose’s living room was because he’d identified several more bones as human. Rose, of course, had insisted he make time for a nosh while he explained their findings. She hadn’t had to twist his arm. On either front.
Asel’s enthusiasm had been evident as he’d described how he’d identified the first bone as human, and how the ones they’d found today seemed to match. Heck, Gordon was starting to like the man. He’d sounded excited when Gordon had called, and had shown up in record time. They’d excavated the area, carefully extracting the bones. A cursory search of the surrounding area hadn’t revealed anything, but short of digging up acres of woodland, there was no way of knowing whether there were more bones.
Gordon watched Asel spoon a generous dollop of whipped cream from a cut-crystal bowl into his coffee cup. Kaffee mit Schlag, Rose called it. Although he normally took his coffee black, Rose had convinced him to make the exception. It made her happy, and to tell the truth, he enjoyed the way the decadently rich, thick cream melted into Rose’s aromatic brew.
“So,” Rose said. “What you are telling me is someone buried bones in our yard? How could this be?” She stared at the empty spot on the couch beside her. “Sam should be here to hear this. But nothing stops his pinochle game on Sundays.”
Reluctantly, Gordon shifted his thoughts from whipped cream and pastries, and men playing cards, to the newly discovered bones. “We can’t say for certain they’re inside your property line. I’m going to have to get the official surveys. But we’re going to be investigating. For starters, how long have you and Sam lived in this house?”
“Since 1959,” Rose said. “Newlyweds, almost, when we came to Mapleton. We never knew about any bones.”
Asel wolfed down a finger sandwich and raised his hand. He swallowed and wiped his mouth. “I don’t think the bones have been in the yard that long. Thirty, forty years, but that’s only a guess right now.”
Rose’s eyes popped open. “You mean someone buried them while we were living here?”
“They’re not close to the house, Rose. Easy enough for someone to sneak in at night—maybe while you weren’t home to notice. We’re not even positive they’re on your property.”
“Still, I don’t like it. Megan—she used to play in the woods with her friends. Like little pirates, even. Digging for treasure. Mein
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