Mariah Stewart - Hard Truth

“Hey, don’t complain. You volunteered to go there and take care of everything.” He was fully awake now.

“I volunteered because you couldn’t get back to L.A. fast enough, and Andrea has a family to take care of. There wasn’t anyone else, Rob.”

“Look, I don’t see what the big deal is. If you’re worried about getting ripped off, just call a couple of dealers in to look things over. Then once you know what everything is worth, sell it. And it’s done.”

“Andi wanted some things, some of the furniture.”

“Fine. She can take whatever she wants, we’ll deduct the price from her share after everything is sold.”

“Is there anything you want, Rob?”

“From there?” He snorted. “I can’t think of one thing I want from Callen.”

She was stung by his words, startled by the angry undertone.

“Was there something else, Lori?” His voice had softened slightly.

“Actually, there is. Chief Walker wanted me to ask both you and Andi if you remember ever seeing anyone around the farm who didn’t belong here. Maybe some drifter or stranger, out in the area of the fields, or back behind the barn. Or if you ever saw anything that didn’t seem right, out there by the woods.”

Rob fell silent.

“Robbie?”

“I heard you. I’m thinking.” He paused briefly. “Nope, sorry. Can’t think of a thing. Anything else?”

“Look, since you’re not working and have some time on your hands, why don’t I send you a plane ticket and you can come out here and give me a hand. I could really use the help, Rob.”

“Sorry, Lorna.” She could hear the resignation in his voice. “I left Callen for the last time years ago. I can’t think of a good enough reason for me to go back there, now or ever. But thanks for the offer of a plane ticket. Keep in touch, okay?”

The line went dead in Lorna’s hand. It was another moment before she hung up the receiver, several more before she got up and poured herself a cold drink, then went out on the back porch, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why her brother was so adamant about never coming home again.

“You’re kidding. Remains of a second body? Same era as the first? Same sex, same cause of death?” T.J.’s questions shot at Lorna through her cell phone with a speed that defied response.

“Whoa. Slow down,” she protested. “I have no information other than there was another finding. I detected a definite coolness from Chief Walker, though, so I suspect I’m still on his shit list, which means it’s not likely he’ll be willing to share any news with me.”

Lorna slumped in her chair at the dining room table. There’d been a steady stream of police and emergency vehicles appearing over near the new development all day, but she had no idea what was going on. She’d walked across the field around two o’clock, but the EMT who’d been posted guard on her side of the property wasn’t about to let anyone near the site of the grave. From where she’d stood, she could see the ME’s car and those marked County CID, but other than being able to note the high level of activity, she couldn’t tell what was going on.

“I think we need to know right off the bat if there’s any chance this could be connected to Jason’s death, and if so, are they going to be eyeing Billie as a suspect. I wonder if the chief would talk to me.”

“Ah, apparently I need to remind you why I’m on his shit list in the first place.”

“Good point.” He fell silent for a moment, then said, “But there are other law enforcement personnel there, right? Didn’t you say there were county cars on-site?”

“Yes.”

“Well, maybe I could get some information from one of them. You know, lawman to lawman.”

“Do PIs qualify as lawmen?”

“Hey, I’m ex-FBI. We could get lucky. And remember, the only person who saw me at the police station was the receptionist, so neither the chief nor any of his officers knows what I look like.”

“What information are you searching for?”

“Whatever we can learn about the victim. For starters, cause of death. How long the remains have been there.”

“They wouldn’t necessarily know that right away, would they?”

“They’d have a damned good idea of what killed the victim if the skull was bashed in, and clothes can give you an indication of the era.”

“But they couldn’t determine the age of the victim just by looking at the bones, could they?”

“It’s possible, if your ME is very good. That will require some lab work, though. I don’t know how well equipped your county facilities are, and I don’t know how good the lab techs are. A lot of smaller labs don’t have the funds for the more sophisticated equipment.”

“So assuming that we don’t have what it takes here, the bones would be sent elsewhere for testing, right?”

“Right. Most likely to the FBI lab.”

“Oh, that would go over big.” She grimaced. “I suppose they’ll blame that on me, too.”

T.J. laughed. “I promise to take the blame for everything. I don’t have to live in that town.”

Motion at the far side of the field caught her eye.

“T.J., hold on, there’s something else happening out there.” Lorna walked outside and to the end of the front porch.

“What’s going on?”

“It looks like another ambulance just arrived. Why would they need another ambulance?” She frowned. “Unless they found another body…”

“I’m on my way.”

She disconnected the call and walked up the drive to the barn, then along the edge of the field and to the family burial ground.

“Do you believe this, Mom?” she asked as she went through the gate.

Lorna watched from the closest possible vantage point, but realized that she wasn’t likely to see a thing from anyplace other than the barn, so she started walking back. She’d spent a half hour in the hot sun, and all she’d learned was that a couple of TV stations had sent their news vans, which were parked along the road. Which meant that someone had been alerted to what was happening in Callen and found the story newsworthy. The thought made her uneasy. The last thing she wanted was publicity.

She was almost to the corner of the barn when she heard voices in the drive. Not expecting anyone except T.J., she peered around the corner, and saw two news vans parked next to her BMW.

“Shit.”

She went into the barn through its back door, and climbed to the loft. Besides giving her a better view across the field, it allowed her to avoid the reporters she’d seen lurking around the vans.

Damn. She was supposed to be selling the farm. This kind of attention would not be to her advantage. Who would want to buy a property where dead bodies kept turning up?

She kept one eye on the field, and another on the drive. The reporters didn’t appear to be in any hurry to leave, and the fact that she hadn’t answered the door buzzer didn’t stop them from occasionally going back to the front door and ringing it again. She was thinking perhaps it would be better to face them once and hopefully get rid of them, when another car pulled into the driveway. She watched the small, sleek sports car zip up to the porch and stop.

She crouched at the front loft window and watched as the reporters rushed T.J. After he’d said whatever it was he’d had to say, the reporters and cameramen climbed back into their respective vans and drove off. She waited until they disappeared out onto the road, then made her way down the ladder.

Walking toward the front of the house, she saw T.J. sitting on the front steps.

“How’d you get rid of them?” she called to him.

“Told ’em it was obvious that you weren’t here, but you’d call as soon as you had a statement to make.”