her Cabernet as she
gave Beowulf a scratch behind his ears. The cat returned the favor
with a nibble to her palm before leaning into the scratch, eyes
closing in bliss. “Hedonist,” Tina murmured. “But you've got the
right idea. Since I don't have anyone to give me a massage,
I'm off for a bath.”
She continued into the bathroom,
pulling her bottle of lavender oil from its place on the shelf.
After another sip of wine, she set the glass down and turned to the
tub.
Her cell rang.
“Ah, fuuucckk .” She took a
moment to lift her eyes skyward, threw one rueful glance at the
wine and the lavender oil, and fished the phone out of her pocket.
“Doc Cassidy speaking.”
“You're on coroner duty
tonight.”
The statement, spoken in Sheriff
Ringstrom's flat tone, brought her alert. Underneath his words, she
heard despair, and she fought down a brief wave of panic. “Shit,”
she said. “What you got?”
He hesitated and her panic
vanished, replaced with a dull ache deep in her gut. Whatever had
happened, it was bad.
“I don't know yet, Tina,” he said.
“I'm sending Sally out to pick you up. She'll be there in about
five minutes. We're up on Vacker's Ridge.”
She hung up and went to put on her
rain gear.
~~
Sally didn't have a lot of
information. “Rock slide, probably,” was all she could offer after
Tina jumped in the squad car. “Three kids got caught.”
The flashing lights of ambulance
and squad car reflected off the rain, and indicated their
destination on the dirt road about a mile out of town. As Sally
pulled up, Tina caught a glimpse of boulders and smaller rocks
scattered along the road ahead of them. They had to hike down from
the trail, adding their flashlights to the floods the rescue team
had put up, as they made their way from wet boulder to wet boulder
down the slope. Fifty feet down, Ringstrom stood with two EMTs near
a monster rock. About ten other people, wearing reflective safety
vests over their rain coats, huddled under a light. They watched
without comment. A few were weeping.
The search team. Family members
and neighbors. Tina turned to Ringstrom, noting his quiet anger
before shifting her gaze to the bodies behind him. He stepped close
to speak near her ear. “We dug 'em out, but haven't done anything
else. Need your report before we move them.”
She nodded, then tilted her head
toward the crowd. Her voice was as soft as his. “Do they need to be
here?”
“Hell, they found the kids. Were
already digging 'em out when we got here.”
Tina sighed. “Okay. Give me twenty
minutes.”
The floodlights revealed nothing
remarkable about the scene. They stood on a shallow incline, a
small break in the steeper incline from above. A short distance
below them, the incline gave another drop. Rocks of various sizes
lay scattered about, all of them loose and still dangerous on the
slope. Flattened shrubs revealed the path of the rocks, and a few
feet away, a small tree stood cracked in two long pieces, with a
boulder resting against it. On the ground next to the boulder was a
blanket. Tina climbed around a smaller rock, knelt next to the
body, and pulled the blanket back with reverent hands.
Les Chardes. One of her patients,
a healthy boy she saw for annual checkups or sports injuries.
Furious tears burned behind her eyes, but she shut them away. Cuts,
contusions, and torn clothes did not indicate the cause of death.
His head was free of major injury. But the crushed chest was
obvious under the shredded shirt, revealing the near-annihilation
of internal organs. Her lips tightened as she nodded to herself,
looking up to stare at the rock, and further up the hill to follow
its path. She stood, steering her flashlight along the
slope.
Ringstrom stood behind her. “His
dad says he was lying pretty much like this when they found him.
There were some rocks on him, but he must have been thrown clear
when he was hit.”
“He was hit squarely in the
chest,” Tina said. “Probably the
gave Beowulf a scratch behind his ears. The cat returned the favor
with a nibble to her palm before leaning into the scratch, eyes
closing in bliss. “Hedonist,” Tina murmured. “But you've got the
right idea. Since I don't have anyone to give me a massage,
I'm off for a bath.”
She continued into the bathroom,
pulling her bottle of lavender oil from its place on the shelf.
After another sip of wine, she set the glass down and turned to the
tub.
Her cell rang.
“Ah, fuuucckk .” She took a
moment to lift her eyes skyward, threw one rueful glance at the
wine and the lavender oil, and fished the phone out of her pocket.
“Doc Cassidy speaking.”
“You're on coroner duty
tonight.”
The statement, spoken in Sheriff
Ringstrom's flat tone, brought her alert. Underneath his words, she
heard despair, and she fought down a brief wave of panic. “Shit,”
she said. “What you got?”
He hesitated and her panic
vanished, replaced with a dull ache deep in her gut. Whatever had
happened, it was bad.
“I don't know yet, Tina,” he said.
“I'm sending Sally out to pick you up. She'll be there in about
five minutes. We're up on Vacker's Ridge.”
She hung up and went to put on her
rain gear.
~~
Sally didn't have a lot of
information. “Rock slide, probably,” was all she could offer after
Tina jumped in the squad car. “Three kids got caught.”
The flashing lights of ambulance
and squad car reflected off the rain, and indicated their
destination on the dirt road about a mile out of town. As Sally
pulled up, Tina caught a glimpse of boulders and smaller rocks
scattered along the road ahead of them. They had to hike down from
the trail, adding their flashlights to the floods the rescue team
had put up, as they made their way from wet boulder to wet boulder
down the slope. Fifty feet down, Ringstrom stood with two EMTs near
a monster rock. About ten other people, wearing reflective safety
vests over their rain coats, huddled under a light. They watched
without comment. A few were weeping.
The search team. Family members
and neighbors. Tina turned to Ringstrom, noting his quiet anger
before shifting her gaze to the bodies behind him. He stepped close
to speak near her ear. “We dug 'em out, but haven't done anything
else. Need your report before we move them.”
She nodded, then tilted her head
toward the crowd. Her voice was as soft as his. “Do they need to be
here?”
“Hell, they found the kids. Were
already digging 'em out when we got here.”
Tina sighed. “Okay. Give me twenty
minutes.”
The floodlights revealed nothing
remarkable about the scene. They stood on a shallow incline, a
small break in the steeper incline from above. A short distance
below them, the incline gave another drop. Rocks of various sizes
lay scattered about, all of them loose and still dangerous on the
slope. Flattened shrubs revealed the path of the rocks, and a few
feet away, a small tree stood cracked in two long pieces, with a
boulder resting against it. On the ground next to the boulder was a
blanket. Tina climbed around a smaller rock, knelt next to the
body, and pulled the blanket back with reverent hands.
Les Chardes. One of her patients,
a healthy boy she saw for annual checkups or sports injuries.
Furious tears burned behind her eyes, but she shut them away. Cuts,
contusions, and torn clothes did not indicate the cause of death.
His head was free of major injury. But the crushed chest was
obvious under the shredded shirt, revealing the near-annihilation
of internal organs. Her lips tightened as she nodded to herself,
looking up to stare at the rock, and further up the hill to follow
its path. She stood, steering her flashlight along the
slope.
Ringstrom stood behind her. “His
dad says he was lying pretty much like this when they found him.
There were some rocks on him, but he must have been thrown clear
when he was hit.”
“He was hit squarely in the
chest,” Tina said. “Probably the
Similar Books
