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“Don’t say it,” Lucien warned. “The day this stuff becomes the norm is the day I’ve lost my empathy. I never want my heart to harden like that.” He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Just look at this place. Who would think it would come to this? We’re digging up an unknown teenage girl in hopes of discovering her identity and possibly her killer. We have a John Doe taken from a woman’s house everyone knew as Vera, with Vera herself resting not twenty yards from this spot, buried under a fake name. You sure know how to keep the morgue busy.”
“If people didn’t lie their asses off, steal someone else’s identity, commit murder, and store dead bodies in their houses, I could retire and spend my free time fishing with my boys.”
“If only. By the way, where’s the evidence box with Gidget’s clothing in it?”
“I turned the box over to the lab for testing before I asked you guys to take on the case. They’ll try to vacuum for touch DNA.”
“Good move. So what’s the new guy like that you hired?”
“Theo’s a big-city seasoned cop from Seattle. Says he needs a change of scenery, especially since his messy divorce. He’s been looking for a small town, somewhere with a slower pace, to settle down.”
“So this guy is looking for a quiet little town where nothing much ever happens. If that’s the case, you may have difficulty explaining this recent spike—two exhumations and an autopsy on a mummified corpse.”
Brent shook his head. “Good thing I didn’t get him in touch with you, isn’t it?”
“It’s a great place to live. I think this new guy will like it fine. But you might need to prepare him for a few things occurring now.”
“Like someone showing up at your place packing a knife? Yeah, I get it. Theo’s a good cop used to ever-changing situations and fluid environments. I’m sure he’ll handle his calls here the way he has his entire career—with the utmost professionalism.”
“That’s dodging the point.”
“No, I’m not. Look at it this way. The dead guy in the box most likely didn’t die here. Vera probably brought him with her from somewhere else. And Gidget, that murder occurred almost fifty years ago. We’re not exactly dealing with a crime wave. And if we were, Theo Woodsong could handle it. You’ll like him. He has a similar background to you and Brogan.”
“How so?”
“You follow sports?”
“Sure. I love baseball, watch a bit of football, and an occasional basketball game, but I always try to catch the Anaheim Ducks when they’re on. Why?”
“Theo’s the son of a former football player turned actor.”
“Woodsong,” Lucien repeated. “Would that be Jason Woodsong? The guy who does all those spy thrillers?”
“That’s the one. It seems the bigwig actor didn’t like his son becoming a lowly cop, thinks the job is beneath him. He wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. But I guess acting wasn’t Theo’s cup of tea.”
“How on earth did you convince him to work here?”
Brent winked. “Once upon a time, Thane Delacourt and Jason Woodsong were teammates. The two still keep in touch. But Thane’s closer in age to Theo than the dad. When Thane found out Theo wanted a change of scenery, he put in a good word for us. Theo’s been down here a time or two to check us out. And when you and Brogan helped with the funding, it seemed like everything clicked into place. I called and made the offer, and Theo didn’t hesitate. He jumped at the chance to get out of Seattle.”
A second coroner’s vehicle pulled up as the first van began to make its way toward the exit. Brent bobbed his head toward the gravestone that read Vera Lockhart. “Looks like they’re ready to make it two for two. Want to move closer?”
“No, thanks. I think I’ve seen enough caskets come up out of the ground to last me for a while.”
“Rookie,” Brent muttered.
“Freak,” Lucien fired back with a grin. “You might be used to this morbid stuff, but not me. I prefer my Mondays without bodies piling up.”
Brent shook his head. “It’s part of the job. Get used to it.”
“Not in a million years.”
While Lucien gaveBrent a hard time, Brogan started her busy Monday by checking her work emails. She sent a few replies, presided over a Zoom meeting with department heads back east, and signed off on several new contracts. Afterward, she brought her laptop to the kitchen and switched gears. She worked on their websleuth website, hoping to get the kinks worked out so it could go live by the end of the week. By nine a.m., she was about to hunt down contact information for their top suspects when Jade knocked on the French doors.
“You decent?” Jade cracked.
Happy to see that her friend was in a better mood than the night before, Brogan grinned and turned the lock. “Come on in. Coffee’s fresh.”
She took the time to peruse Jade’s outfit—afloral print dress in a wild mix of turquoise and sage green that swooped to mid-calf. She wore dangly beads around her neck, loop earrings, and strappy wedge sandals on her feet. She carried a straw tote bag that held her laptop. “You look absolutely amazing.”
