Karin Slaughter - Indelible

Nell studied her, like she was trying to figure Sara out. "Was it about Julia?"

"Who's Julia?"

Nell looked out into the street, where the car that had coasted by earlier had backed up and was parking in front of the driveway.

"Who's Julia?" Sara repeated. "Nell?"

Nell stood up. "You need to talk to Jeffrey about that."

"About what?"

She waved to the woman getting out of the car, saying, "You found it."

The woman smiled as her son ran up to the dogs and threw his arms around them. "They look just like the pictures."

"This one's Henry," Nell said, indicating one of the dogs. "This is Lucinda. Truth be told, she only comes to Lucy." She held out the leashes to the boy, who gladly took hold.

The woman opened her mouth, looking like she was about to protest, but Nell reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. "This should cover the cost for having them fixed. My husband and I never got around to it."

"Thank you," the woman said, the cash obviously helping to make up her mind. "Is there any particular food they like?"

"Anything," Nell said. "They just love to eat and they love kids."

The boy said, "They're great!" with that enthusiastic tone children use when they're trying to convince their parents they will become future astronauts or presidents if only they get the thing they are asking for.

"Anyway." Nell looked at Sara then back to the woman. "I should be going. We've got to finish packing up the house. Movers will be here at two."

The woman smiled. "It's a shame you can't keep them in the city."

"Landlord won't allow it," Nell told her, holding out her hand. "Thank you kindly."

"Thank you," the woman said, shaking her hand. She shook Sara's, too, then told the child, "Honey, say 'Thank you.' "

The boy mumbled a "Thank you," but his attention was squarely set on the dogs. Sara watched them bound toward the car, the boy jogging to keep up with the rambunctious animals.

Sara waited until the woman was in the car, but Nell held up a hand to keep her from speaking. "Put an ad in the paper," she said. "No sense letting those dogs waste away out back when there's people who know how to care for them."

"What are you going to tell your neighbor when he gets home from work?"

"I guess they broke their chains," Nell shrugged. "I'd better go check on Jared."

"Nell -"

"Don't ask me questions, Sara. I know I talk too much, but there's some things you need to hear from Jeffrey."

"He doesn't seem interested in telling me much of anything."

"He's over at his mama's," Nell said. "Don't worry, she won't be home for another few hours. She grabs lunch at the hospital on Tuesdays."

"Nell -"

Nell held up her hand, walking away.

After walking up and down the street twice, Sara realized she could always look at the mailboxes instead of trying to remember what Jeffrey's mother's house looked like. She found the one marked "Tolliver" five houses down from Nell's and hoped to God no one had been watching her make a fool of herself. She felt especially stupid when she recognized Robert's truck parked in the driveway.

In the daylight, the house looked more run-down than Sara had thought the first time she had seen it. Several coats of paint had been added over the years, giving the siding a rippled effect. The lawn was a depressing brown and the spindly tree in the front yard looked like it was about to fall over.

The front door was wide open, the screen door unlocked, but still she knocked, saying, "Jeffrey?"

There was no response, and Sara walked into the house just as she heard a door slam in the back.

She repeated, "Jeffrey?"

"Sara?" he asked, coming into the family room. He had a hand-held propane torch in one hand and an adjustable wrench in the other.

"Nell said you were here."

"Yeah," he said, not exactly looking at her. He held up the torch. "The pipe in the kitchen burst about two years ago. She's been washing dishes in the bathroom ever since." She did not respond, and he motioned her back to the kitchen. "I'm gonna finish up with this, then go over to the jail and check on Robert. I just don't buy what he said yesterday. I know there's something he's not telling me."

"Lot of that going around," Sara mumbled.

"What?"

She shrugged, looking at the mess on the floor. He had taken apart the entire faucet just to replace the pipe. She asked, "Did you turn off the water?"

"That's what I was doing outside," he told her, sitting on the floor. He took some sand cloth and sanded an end piece of copper pipe with the methodic precision of an amateur.

Sara sat across from him, trying not to be critical of the work he had already performed. Had her father been here, he would have called Jeffrey a girl.

There was a note of pride in Jeffrey's voice when he said, "I went ahead and replaced everything."

"Hm," she mumbled. "Need help?"

He cut his eyes at her, and she gathered this was something like driving in that only men did it. Considering her father had taught both Sara and Tessa safety procedures for using propane and acetylene torches before they could comfortably say the words, this was more than slightly insulting.

Still, she let it pass, saying, "I didn't tell you last night -"

"About that," he interrupted. "I'm really sorry. I promise you, I don't usually drink like that."

"I didn't think you did."

"As for the other…" His voice trailed off, and Sara picked up the can of flux, needing to do something with her hands.

She said, "Don't worry, I'm not going to hold you to it."

"Hold me to what?"

She shrugged. "What you said."

"What did I say?" he asked, his tone of voice wary.

"Nothing," she told him, trying to open the can.

"I was talking about what we did," he said, then corrected, "I mean, what I did."

"It's okay."

"It's not," he said, taking the flux and opening it for her. "I'm not…" He paused, as if searching for a word. "I'm not usually that selfish."

"Forget about it," she told him, but somehow his half-ass apology made her feel better. She dipped the brush into the flux and daubed it onto one of the elbows he had already sanded. "I want to talk to you about the skeleton."

His attitude changed completely, and she could see his defenses go up. "What about it?"

"It's a woman. A young woman."

He gave her a careful look. "Are you sure?"

"The shape of the head is obvious. Men usually have larger skulls." She took the measuring tape and measured the distance from the sink to the cutoff valve at the floor. "Men's skulls are heavier, too. Usually with a bony ridge above the eyes." She measured a length of pipe and clamped the cutter at the correct spot. "Men have longer canine teeth and wider vertebrae," she continued, spinning the cutter until the pipe broke. "Then there's the pelvis. Women's are wider for child-bearing." She lightly sanded the pipe. "Plus, there's the sub-pubic angle. If it measures less than ninety degrees, then it's male, more than ninety, it's female."

He put flux on the pipe as Sara slipped on a pair of safety glasses. His face remained blank as he shoved the elbow onto the pipe, and he waited until Sara had used the flint striker to light the torch before asking, "How do you know she was young?"

Sara adjusted the torch before waving the flame over the pipe, heating it enough to make the flux boil. "The pelvis tells the story. The public bones meet in the front of the pelvis. If the bone surface has bumps or ridges, that means it belongs to a young person. Older people have smoother bones."

She turned off the torch and threaded out the solder, watching it melt into the joint. She continued, "There's also a depression area in the public bone. If a woman has given birth, there's a notch where the bones separated in order to allow room for the baby's head."