glistening stones of the courtyard.
Rose looked down at the baby in her arms and saw, in the sleeping face, a miniature in flesh of her own dear sister.
No one will ever take you from me. Not while I still breathe.
Five
The present
“T HANK YOU for seeing me on such short notice, Dr. Isles.” Julia took a seat in the medical examiner’s office. She’d come straight from the summer heat into the frigid building, and now she looked across the desk at a woman who seemed perfectly at home in this chilly environment. Except for the framed floral prints on the wall, Maura Isles’s office was all business: files and textbooks, a microscope, and a desk that looked ruthlessly organized. Julia shifted uneasily in the chair, feeling as if she were the one now under the microscope lens. “You probably don’t get many requests like mine, but I really need to know. For my own peace of mind.”
“Dr. Petrie’s the one you should be talking to,” said Isles. “The skeleton is a forensic anthropology case.”
“I’m not here about that skeleton. I’ve already spoken to Dr. Petrie, and she had nothing new to tell me.”
“Then how can I help you?”
“When I bought the house, the real estate agent told me that the previous owner was an elderly woman who’d died on the property. Everyone assumed it was a natural death. But a few days ago, my next-door neighbor mentioned there’d been several burglaries in the area. And last year, a man was seen driving up and down the road, as if he was casing the houses. Now I’m starting to wonder if…”
“If it wasn’t a natural death?” said Isles bluntly. “That’s what you’re asking, isn’t it?”
Julia met the medical examiner’s gaze. “Yes.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t perform that particular autopsy.”
“But there’s a report somewhere, isn’t there? It would give a cause of death, wouldn’t it?”
“I’d have to know the name of the deceased.”
“I have it right here.” Julia reached into her purse and took out a bundle of photocopies, which she handed to Isles. “It’s her obituary, from the local paper. Her name was Hilda Chamblett. And these are all the news clippings I could find about her.”
“So you’ve already been digging into this.”
“It’s been on my mind.” Julia gave an embarrassed laugh. “Plus, there’s that old skeleton in my backyard. I’m feeling a little uneasy that two different women have died there.”
“At least a hundred years apart.”
“It’s the one last year that really bothers me. Especially after what my neighbor said, about the burglaries.”
Isles nodded. “I suppose it would bother me, too. Let me find the report.” She left the office and returned moments later with the file. “The autopsy was done by Dr. Costas,” she said as she sat down at her desk. She opened the file. “‘Chamblett, Hilda, age ninety-two, found in the backyard of her Weston residence. Remains were found by a family member who had been away and had not checked on her for three weeks. Time of death is therefore uncertain.’” Isles flipped to a new page and paused. “The photos aren’t particularly pleasant,” she said. “You don’t need to see these.”
Julia swallowed. “No, I don’t. Maybe you could just read me the conclusions?”
Isles turned to the summary and glanced up. “You’re sure you want to hear this?” At Julia’s nod, Isles once again began to read aloud. “‘Body was found in a supine position, surrounded by tall grass and weeds, which concealed it from view beyond only a few feet…’”
The same weeds I’ve been battling, thought Julia. I’ve been pulling up the same grass that hid Hilda Chamblett’s body.
“‘No skin or soft tissue is found intact on any exposed surfaces. Shreds of clothing, consisting of what appears to be a sleeveless cotton dress, still adhere to parts of the torso. In the neck, cervical vertebrae are clearly visible and soft tissues are lacking. Large
Rose looked down at the baby in her arms and saw, in the sleeping face, a miniature in flesh of her own dear sister.
No one will ever take you from me. Not while I still breathe.
Five
The present
“T HANK YOU for seeing me on such short notice, Dr. Isles.” Julia took a seat in the medical examiner’s office. She’d come straight from the summer heat into the frigid building, and now she looked across the desk at a woman who seemed perfectly at home in this chilly environment. Except for the framed floral prints on the wall, Maura Isles’s office was all business: files and textbooks, a microscope, and a desk that looked ruthlessly organized. Julia shifted uneasily in the chair, feeling as if she were the one now under the microscope lens. “You probably don’t get many requests like mine, but I really need to know. For my own peace of mind.”
“Dr. Petrie’s the one you should be talking to,” said Isles. “The skeleton is a forensic anthropology case.”
“I’m not here about that skeleton. I’ve already spoken to Dr. Petrie, and she had nothing new to tell me.”
“Then how can I help you?”
“When I bought the house, the real estate agent told me that the previous owner was an elderly woman who’d died on the property. Everyone assumed it was a natural death. But a few days ago, my next-door neighbor mentioned there’d been several burglaries in the area. And last year, a man was seen driving up and down the road, as if he was casing the houses. Now I’m starting to wonder if…”
“If it wasn’t a natural death?” said Isles bluntly. “That’s what you’re asking, isn’t it?”
Julia met the medical examiner’s gaze. “Yes.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t perform that particular autopsy.”
“But there’s a report somewhere, isn’t there? It would give a cause of death, wouldn’t it?”
“I’d have to know the name of the deceased.”
“I have it right here.” Julia reached into her purse and took out a bundle of photocopies, which she handed to Isles. “It’s her obituary, from the local paper. Her name was Hilda Chamblett. And these are all the news clippings I could find about her.”
“So you’ve already been digging into this.”
“It’s been on my mind.” Julia gave an embarrassed laugh. “Plus, there’s that old skeleton in my backyard. I’m feeling a little uneasy that two different women have died there.”
“At least a hundred years apart.”
“It’s the one last year that really bothers me. Especially after what my neighbor said, about the burglaries.”
Isles nodded. “I suppose it would bother me, too. Let me find the report.” She left the office and returned moments later with the file. “The autopsy was done by Dr. Costas,” she said as she sat down at her desk. She opened the file. “‘Chamblett, Hilda, age ninety-two, found in the backyard of her Weston residence. Remains were found by a family member who had been away and had not checked on her for three weeks. Time of death is therefore uncertain.’” Isles flipped to a new page and paused. “The photos aren’t particularly pleasant,” she said. “You don’t need to see these.”
Julia swallowed. “No, I don’t. Maybe you could just read me the conclusions?”
Isles turned to the summary and glanced up. “You’re sure you want to hear this?” At Julia’s nod, Isles once again began to read aloud. “‘Body was found in a supine position, surrounded by tall grass and weeds, which concealed it from view beyond only a few feet…’”
The same weeds I’ve been battling, thought Julia. I’ve been pulling up the same grass that hid Hilda Chamblett’s body.
“‘No skin or soft tissue is found intact on any exposed surfaces. Shreds of clothing, consisting of what appears to be a sleeveless cotton dress, still adhere to parts of the torso. In the neck, cervical vertebrae are clearly visible and soft tissues are lacking. Large
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