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“Over there.” She extended her arm to point at a haze of birds circling in the air around a mile away, over the top of a line of trees that was perhaps following an empty water course.
Both men turned to stare in that direction.
“What do you think it is?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Mack replied. “But I guess we’re about to find out.”
She slotted Gypsy in between Mack, who took the lead, and Finn in the rear. A shiver of unease slid down her spine. No one said a thing as their horses jogged toward the birds still circling in the sky. The light was failing now, as the sun sank over thehorizon and dusk descended. Indy figured they only had about half an hour of light left. Suddenly, she didn’t want to be out here after dark.
The horses ate up the distance, and within fifteen minutes, the tree line came into view just ahead. Most of the crows had either settled into the branches of the trees or were hopping around on the ground. As they got closer, Indy could see a rudimentary camp of some sort, set up in the low creek bed, almost hidden from view until you were directly upon it. There was a camouflage tarp strung between two tree trunks, some overturned chairs, and a small table. It could be hunters; they sometimes came out here to shoot roos and dingoes. It was deathly quiet, as if the camp were deserted.
“What is this?” she asked, then reined in Gypsy sharply when Finn raised a finger to his lips.
She clamped her mouth shut and watched mutely as Finn slid silently from his saddle and handed her his reins. Then he was slipping, wraithlike, between the trees, creeping toward the camp. Indy wanted to call out to him, tell him it wasn’t safe. She had a bad feeling about this and wished they’d waited for Nash and his backup to arrive.
Mack dismounted and motioned for Indy to do the same. “I’m going in,” he whispered. “I want you to stay here and guard the horses.”
She shook her head emphatically. If they could go in, then so could she. But it seemed the horses could feel the unwholesome aura that hung over this camp, and Gypsy whickered nervously. She lay a hand on her horse’s neck to calm her.
“I need you to keep the horses quiet and calm until we know what’s going on,” Mack said quietly, looking her straight in the eye. Indy wasn’t happy about being left alone, but she nodded once, then watched Mack step stealthily through the bushes, heading in a different direction than the one Finn had taken.
Surrounded by the horses, Indy spent the next excruciating minutes listening and watching for any sign of movement. She spoke quietly to Picasso when he shifted nervously from foot to foot, and Sahara, whose ears flickered back and forward anxiously. What the hell was going on? Why was it taking so long?
She’d just determined that she was going to tie the horses to the nearest tree and go and find out what was going on, when Finn appeared from behind an acacia tree.
“Shit, Finn, you scared the daylights out of me.” Her hand had gone to cover her heart in an unconscious move. “What did you find? Is anyone there?”
Finn’s face was grim. He walked right up to her and lay a hand on her arm. “Yeah. We found out what was attracting the crows.” He made a grimace of distaste. “But it’s not pretty. You probably don’t want to see this. There’s been another murder.” His fingers squeezed her arm, conveying his discomposure more than his facial expressions ever could. He was trying to protect her from whatever it was they’d found. Touching as it was, his concern was unwarranted. After seeing Wombat’s mutilated body, she thought she was immune to just about anything.
“Thanks for trying to spare me the details, Finn, but I’m not staying out here.” Whatever was in that camp might be bad, but the not knowing was worse. Besides, she was too freaked out to stay here by herself any longer.
“Come on in, then,” he said with a sigh. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Finn took Sahara’s reins and Indy followed him to the perimeter of the primitive campsite with the other two horses. They tied their animals to a low branch and Finn took Indy by the hand to lead her around the edge of the camp, to where Mack was talking quietly into the sat phone. She heard him give their coordinates; he must be relaying what they’d found to Dale. It took her a moment to understand that Finn hadtaken her hand as much to keep her out of the crime scene, as to offer her comfort.
That’s when she saw him. The dead guy. She put her hand to her nose. The smell was indescribable.
Oh, God. Finn had been right. If anything, this was worse than seeing Wombat’s butchered body.
This man had clearly been dead for days, and the crows and other wildlife had gone to town on him, feasting on his body as if it were indeed any other bit of carrion.
His face was almost unrecognizable. Her stomach heaved, and she had to fight down the urge to be sick.
“Oh, that’s…” She turned her face into Finn’s shoulder, trying to block out the sight. “How are they even going to identify…him?” she asked, voice muffled slightly by Finn’s shirt.
“Dental records, probably,” he answered matter-of-factly, never taking his eyes from the scene in front of them.
Indy steeled herself and turned her face to survey the remains of the campsite. It looked as if there’d been a fight, the single table had been turned over, scattering pots and pans and items of food on the ground. Two folding chairs were also tipped on edge. There was no campfire; they’d obviously used a gas cooker.
“Do you think this is related to Wombat’s murder?” she asked the obvious question.
“It’s a definite possibility,” Finn conceded. “The camp was set up to stay hidden. No campfire. They obviously didn’t want to alert anyone to their presence by smoke. I haven’t been near the shelter, but from here it looks like there was room for more than one. Add that to the pair of chairs, mugs, and crockery and it looks like two people were camping here for some days before…” Finn pointed to the body.
“So where is the other guy?” she asked, casting her gaze warily around the camp. Was the guy who’d killed this man thesame one who killed Wombat? And was he still lurking around, waiting for his next victim?
“That’s the million-dollar question,” he replied. “We need to stay alert, just in case.”
Yeah, she’d already figured that one out on her own. Indy moved closer to Finn’s reassuring presence.
CHAPTER NINE
