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Rachel shifted uncomfortably. “Er, no. We broke up not long after that night, actually.” She forced a quick nod and offered a tight-lipped smile, deflecting the personal question. “Find anything?”
Magnolia looked down again. She hesitated. “From what I can see,” Magnolia began, “the injuries seem consistent with a single-edged blade, likely serrated.” She looked up at Rachel. “A lot of knives like that. But these cuts…” She trailed off, shaking her head. Magnolia frowned as she probed the neck wound on one of the victims.
“Something’s not right here,” Magnolia murmured, sharing a glance with her husband. He looked over, and his brow furrowed.
It was as if the two were communicating telepathically, or perhaps in a language Rachel didn’t know.
After the shared glance between the couple, Magnolia continued, “The stab wounds are superficial—they didn’t pierce any major arteries or organs.”
Avon nodded in agreement. “Neither victim bled out from these injuries. In fact”—he paused as he wiped away some of the dirt around the mouth of one victim, revealing an oily residue—“it appears they were drowned in oil.”
He glanced at the large pumpjacks bobbing around them.
“The wounds are superficial?” Rachel asked, perking up.
“Perhaps the killer used the knife as a means to threaten and subdue the victims,” Avon speculated, his eyes never leaving the body in front of him.
Rachel considered this possibility, her mind racing with theories. As the Dentons continued their examination, she caught sight of something unusual on the second victim’s clothing—a faint dusting of red powder that stood out against the dark stains of oil.
“Did you see this?” Rachel asked, pointing at the red dust. The Dentons looked up from their work and leaned in for a closer inspection.
“Interesting,” Magnolia mused. “It looks like mineral deposits, but I can’t be sure.”
“Could it have come from the surrounding area?” Rachel wondered aloud, scanning the crime scene for any traces of the same red substance.
“No.” Avon shook his head. “I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’ve never seen anything quite like this. It’s definitely not native to the area.”
She frowned, took a picture of the red dust, then made a mental note to have forensics sample it.
The Dentons both stood in unison, as if they’d rehearsed the motion. They both dusted their hands off before turning to her.
“Drowned in oil,” Avon said simply, shrugging.
“Yeah… thanks,” Rachel replied.
“How about you come by for dinner tonight,” Magnolia said. “Your aunt will be there!”
“Oh, really?”
“Mhmm. Because I’m going to invite her after we leave here,” she said, smiling sweetly with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.
“Oh. I mean… I wouldn’t want to bother you.”
“No bother at all.”
Rachel didn’t like going onto the reservation. The glances she got, the comments she overheard… The sellout. Choosing the white man over her own people. Half-breed. She’d heard it all before.
Now, though, she couldn’t refuse. She nodded once, the feather in her hat fluttering. “Alright. Just text me a time.”
“Lovely!” said Magnolia. “It’s a plan.”
Rachel gave a quick nod of gratitude to both of them as she led them away from the crime scene once more, to help usher them out of the oil fields.
She noted the way the two veterinarians held hands as they strolled, both of them occasionally pausing to point out some sight that caught their attention, or a bird flitting on the breeze. They seemed so happy. So unencumbered.
As she watched them, Rachel felt a flicker of… pain? Longing?
She thought of her own parents. And her thoughts darkened, and her usual frown returned, covering her features in an overcast grimace.
