Page 45 of Found Objects

“How many men?”

Schiff turned to Reed, who said, “I believe it was eight.”

I squinted at him. “He thinks someone buried eight bodies on my land?”

“This is why we think this is a lot of bull—nonsense. If you had to bury that many men alone, you’d still be at it now.”

“Yessir, I would.”

“But again⁠—”

“No, no, I’m not arguing. I’m ready to go when you are.”

“I told you,” Teddy chimed in. “Merritt had nothing to do with this.”

They both seemed relieved.

“Do you want to wait for the cadaver dog or go now?”

They wanted to wait and were all very appreciative of me making coffee, and yes, frothed oak milk creamer sounded lovely.

The K9 unit arrived—Officer Harmon with her dog, Jett, two Ts, and then the cadaver dog, Elvira, which was funny if you thought about it. She came with her handler, Officer Petrovsky, who corrected Schiff on the cadaver part—they preferred Human Remains Detection dog—and we all trudged down to the grove. Before we could leave, though, Officer Harmon said that since she didn’t want me to freeze to death, I needed to put a jacket on over my long-sleeved T-shirt. I thought she enjoyed mothering me a bit, reminding me to take care of myself. She did it whenever she came into the restaurant when she happened to be in the area too.

I stood between Officers Reed and Schiff, and we all watched, along with Teddy, as both dogs walked all over, sniffed, checked the dirt, came back and smelled me, my beat-to-hell hiking boots, and my jeans. They checked Teddy, then went back around the edge of the property before leaving the grove and starting down the hill toward Abel and Narah’s lodge. I followed along, and as we approached the house, passing a shed where I was guessing the lawnmower was kept, Jett froze. One second he was moving, and the next, he wasn’t. In fact, he stopped so suddenly that Officer Harmon was almost thrown off-balance. She wasn’t a big person, and the dog was easily eighty pounds.

“Jett?” Harmon said gently.

The German shepherd looked at her, then took a step back, and even whined softly.

“What is that about?” Schiff asked her.

“I have no idea.”

Elvira, who was a bloodhound, was circling the shed, and when she scratched at the door, Petrovsky opened it. Just inside, next to a ride-on mower, she made a couple of turns and then lay down.

“What does that mean?” Reed asked.

“That means there’s a body here,” Petrovsky said.

“Okay, so maybe Tuss Haviland isn’t crazy.”

But when I turned and looked at Jett, he was up and pacing.

“I’m going to take him back,” Harmon informed the other two officers. “Are you calling the state police?”

“Yeah, we’ll call it in now.”

Elvira suddenly jumped up like something had touched her, yelped, yanked her leash out of Petrovsky’s hand, and ran over to me. She stood for a moment, then moved around behind me and sat down.

“Vira, what are you doing?” her handler asked, walking over to join me.

The moment Petrovsky reached me, she slipped around behind him.

Whatever was in the ground, I was guessing it wanted to come out.

There was a sound in my head. It started small and got loud quickly, like a big eighteen-wheeler passing you on the highway.

I took a step forward, but froze just like Jett had as I realized what it was. It had taken me a moment because I hadn’t had a warning like this—from the earth, the trees, the wind, everything, all at once—in centuries. I was not to step forward into whatever was there, in the ground. It wouldn’t kill me. Not me. But it was unnatural, and so I was warned by the elements not to enter.