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She gazed down at his damp blue baseball cap and the slick black jacket he wore. She needed better clothes for the weather. Something more weatherproof than this wool.
“Someone’s been here,” he said, his words so quiet, she had to strain to hear. Then he went back to the first grave, smoothed it over, then returned with his shovel.
“No one’s been here,” she told him, certain he was imagining it.
Earl bent down and began shoveling the dirt. He placed careful shovelfuls on the ground beside the grave while Ravinia watched and shivered. It felt like forever before Earl slowed down and finally stopped. Ravinia looked into a deep hole.
“Shouldn’t there be a casket by now?” she asked.
“There never was a casket.”
“So . . . where are the bones?”
Earl looked toward the west, and Ravinia followed his gaze, getting a bad feeling.
“Earl?” she asked, her shiver turning into a deep body shudder.
“He’s gone,” was all he sai
d.
Ravinia was still shaking by the time she entered Catherine’s room. Though she had shed her cloak and boots, the hems of her pant legs were soaking wet and left a damp trail up the stairs and into her aunt’s bedroom.
“Well?” Catherine asked tautly.
“We moved Mary’s casket into the grave with the headstone. Earl says, with all this rain, the police won’t notice that it’s been recently dug. Although, he sure seems to be able to tell those kinds of things. He says they won’t be looking, though.”
“What are you talking about?” Catherine struggled out of bed and lit the lamp again. “Close the door,” she ordered in a harsh whisper.
Ravinia did as she asked, then turned back to her, her whole body feeling like it was clenched. “The bones were gone.”
“What?”
“They weren’t in the grave.” Catherine stared at her hard, and Ravinia added, “Even before we started digging, Earl noticed something. He said someone had been there.”
Catherine got to her feet, steadying herself for a moment. When Ravinia stepped forward, she snapped, “No, no. I’m fine. Just got up too fast. I hate being so feeble.”
“But you’re getting better.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Don’t worry. What else did Earl say?”
“Nothing. He just said, ‘He’s gone,’ and then we put Mary’s casket in the grave and covered it up.”
“This wasn’t Declan Jr.,” Catherine said, her expression hard to read. “This isn’t right.”
“Who’s Declan Jr.?”
“The son of the man who tried to rape me.”
“The one whose bones should have been in the grave? If it’s his father, maybe he did take them. I mean, who else would want them?” Ravinia demanded.
“He doesn’t know. He thinks someone else is his father.” Catherine waved her to silence, her face a study in concentration.
After a few minutes of complying, Ravinia had had enough. “What do you want me to do?”
“I’m still thinking.”
“Stop keeping me in the dark. Give me a clue. Something.”
