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“You think he had something to do with this, then?” Sheriff McEvoy probes further.
I have to admit, now I’m feeling a little excited about this whole thing. He’s asking me questions because I’m an asset. Iknowthings about this town he might need to know too. Not just a crazy hermitic museum keeper. “If you want me to speculate on if Fred Frederickson has the capacity for… something like this, I don’t think this is the appropriate location to disclose that.”
He smirks in a way that is completely indiscernible to my comprehension. “Got it, Chaplin.”
“Doctor,” I correct.
“I think I’ll stick with Chaplin for now,” he says. End of discussion.
Internally, I stew. I worked too hard for that title to be referred to like his buddy on a baseball team. But he’s letting me accompany him. I’ll let it go for now.
We round the house to the gardens, which are immaculately kept, a relief to my eyes. The façade might be faltering—a crime considering how much money the Fredericksons have for upkeep—but at least the gardens are well kept.
The area is crawling with cops, unusual for Horace. I’ve never seen some of these people in my life. They must have called in reinforcements from the county to deal with this. After all, Wabash is one of the sleepiest counties in the state. Most of the officers are funneling toward and away from the yews lining the back of the property.
I am vibrating with excitement. Wouldn’t admit that out loud considering we might be dealing with a rather sordid situation. I can’t wait to get my eyes on this skeleton, though. I’ve nearly forgotten the missing deer bones.
Nearly. Not entirely.
I follow the sheriff down the path until I’m stopped in my tracks by Colleen Boyette, who is in the process of unrolling caution tape to cordon off the area.
“This is a closed crime scene, Dr. Chaplin,” Colleen says, her sleek black pixie cut looking almost painted on.
I open my mouth to respond, but thankfully, the sheriff turns around and holds up a hand. “She’s with me, Boyette.”
Colleen frowns back at him, then looks at me. Says nothing. Ticks her head for me to follow him. “Go on.”
This is a rather ordinary reaction from people I went to school with. We aren’t friendly, but there’s no animosity either. They think I’m weird and I think they’re boring. Why waste the energy with pleasantries when we can simply acknowledge each other’s humanity and be done with it?
“Rory, thank goodness you’re here,” Chief of Horace police, Ed Quintera, greets us.
“Came as soon as I heard,” the sheriff says. Or should I say Rory?
Yep, after the choice ofChaplinrather thanDr. Chaplin, I’m definitely going with Rory.
Ed regards me in the same way everyone has here. The same appraising eyes and acceptance that, despite everything, I am one of them. “Let me take you to the scene.” We follow Ed toward the group gathered around the skeleton.
“How was it discovered?” Rory, formerly known as Sheriff McEvoy, asks as we go.
“Their gardener stumbled upon it while he was mulching the yews. Said there was a bone sticking up, poked around, and lo and behold.” Ed looks to a corner of the garden. “We’re still questioning him.”
I follow his gaze to the witness and immediately recognize the older man. “Harvey Collins?”
Both men look at me like I’m an animal who has just revealed the ability to speak. What is it with people?
Ed nods. “Yes, Harvey Collins.”
“Who is Harvey Collins?” Rory asks.
“He’s a handyman. And I guess a gardener,” I say. Unsurprising. He kind of does whatever will pay the bills. And he’s good at all of it. “He does stuff at the museum sometimes.”
Rory regards that with an interested nod. “Good to know.”
I let my gaze linger on Harvey for a bit. Poor guy looks like he’s trembling, barely able to hold on to the bottle of water they’ve given him. They’ve even got him wrapped in a silvery shock blanket.
Ed leads us to the edge of the garden. They have been parted at the center, clipped back to create a tunnel that allows people through.
We emerge into the forest behind the property where a shallow hole has been dug, revealing, yes, an entire human skeleton.
