White Fire by Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child

slender and fit, with beautifully coiffed platinum hair and understated makeup. She was dressed in high cowboy style with a beaded Indian vest, white shirt, tight jeans, and cowboy boots. A Navajo squash blossom necklace completed the ensemble. The walls of her office were covered with photographs of her riding a stunning paint horse in the mountains and competing in an arena, charging through a herd of cows. A water cooler stood in one corner. Another corner of the office was dominated by a magnificent western saddle, tooled all over and trimmed in silver.
    In an easy, friendly way, Mrs. Kermode came forward and shook Corrie’s hand, inviting her to sit down. Corrie’s irritation at being kept waiting for an hour began to dissipate in the warm welcome.
    “Now, Corrie,” she began, speaking with a pronounced Texas accent, “I want to thank you for coming in. It gives me a chance to explain to you, in person, why Chief Morris and I unfortunately can’t grant your request.”
    “Well, I was hoping to explain—”
    But Kermode was in a hurry and overrode Corrie’s attempt to present her talking points. “Corrie, I’m going to be frank. The scientific examination of those mortal remains for a…college thesis is, in our view, disrespectful of the dead.”
    This was not what Corrie expected. “In what way?”
    Kermode gave a poisonous little laugh. “My dear Miss Swanson, how can you ask such a question? Would you want some student pawing through your grandfather’s remains?”
    “Um, I would be fine with it.”
    “Come, now. Of course you wouldn’t. At least where I come from, we treat our dead with respect. These are sacred human remains.”
    Corrie tried desperately to get back to her talking points. “But this is a unique opportunity for forensic science. This is going to help law enforcement—”
    “A college thesis? Contribute to forensic science? Aren’t you exaggerating the importance of this project just a teensy little bit now, Miss Swanson?”
    Corrie took a deep breath. “Not at all. This could be a very important study and data collection of perimortem trauma caused by a large carnivore. When a skeleton of a murder victim is found, forensic pathologists have to distinguish animal tooth marks and other postmortem damage from the marks on the bones left by the perpetrator. It’s a serious issue and this study—”
    “So much Greek to me!” Mrs. Kermode gave a laugh and waved her hand, as if she understood nothing.
    Corrie decided to shift tack. “It’s important for me personally, Mrs. Kermode—but it could be important for Roaring Fork, as well. It’s doing something constructive, something positive with these human remains. It would reflect well on the community and the chief—”
    “It’s just not respectful,” said Kermode firmly. “It’s not Christian . There are many in this town who would find it deeply offensive. We are the guardians of those remains, and we take our responsibility seriously. I just can’t under any circumstances allow it.”
    “But…” Corrie could feel her temper rising despite her best efforts to keep it down. “But…you dug them up to begin with.”
    A silence, and then Kermode spoke softly. “The decision was made long ago. Back in 1978, in fact. The town signed off on it. Here at The Heights we’ve been planning this new clubhouse and spa for almost a decade.”
    “Why do you need it when you’ve already got a beautiful clubhouse?”
    “We’ll need a larger one to serve Phase Three, as we open up West Mountain to a select number of custom home lots. Again, as I’ve repeatedly said to you, this has been in planning for years. We are responsible to our owners and investors.”
    Our owners and investors. “All I want to do is examine the bones—with the utmost respect—for valid and important scientific purposes. There’s no disrespect in that, surely?”
    Mrs. Kermode rose, a bright fake smile plastered on her face. “Miss Swanson, the