Her Grave Secrets (Rogue River #3)(9)

“I’d heard he wasn’t a tech-oriented guy, but he didn’t even have a home computer. How does anyone function without the Internet these days? We grabbed some file folders of bank records to go through.” Zane’s phone rang. “I bet this is Hank from the ME’s office. He was going to give me some preliminary results on Roy’s autopsy. You want to hang around for this?”

“You bet.”

Zane hit the speakerphone button. “Zane Duncan.”

“Zane, it’s Hank, this time still good?”

“Yep. And I’ve got Seth Harding here with me. You mind if he listens in?”

“Nope. That’ll save me another phone call,” Hank said. “How’s Brianna doing, Seth?”

“Growing like a weed. Looks like her mother.”

“Then she’s a lucky girl.” Hank’s tone changed into business mode. “Say, Zane, I found those two .22s in the brain matter just like I thought I would. I’ve set them aside to go to the state lab. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll link them to some other crimes.”

“What about the dirt analysis you were going to run?” Zane asked. “Is it too early for that?”

“Nope. That was the easy part. The dirt under the body had blood—a lot of it. I think we were looking at our murder site. I’m glad the first cops to arrive treated it like a crime scene, because it preserved a lot of evidence.”

“I think Carter was too terrified to get close once he saw the skull,” Zane said ruefully. “I guess that’s better than an overeager cop who’d pick it up. What else do you have?”

“Nothing has persuaded me that the two shots to the back of the head weren’t the cause of death. I’ve examined what’s left of him—we’re missing quite a few pieces, by the way. I think we got lucky that the tree fell. I have a hunch it preserved a lot of the skeleton even though it was crushed. I told you there were gnaw marks on the ends of some of the bones, right? And most of the little bones of the hands and feet were gone. Scavengers doing their work. They left gnaw marks on the skull too. There might have been only the skull for us to find if the tree hadn’t protected the rest of the bones from critters.”

“I heard one rumor circulating that his hands had been cut off to hide his identity,” Zane said. “I wanted to refute it, but I didn’t have the evidence.”

“Definitely not cut off. That’s an easy one to prove,” said Hank. “No saw or cut marks on the wrist or arm bones. I haven’t met a criminal yet who could cut off a hand without leaving evidence on the other bones. And why leave his teeth if they’re trying to hide his identity? Teeth are much better records for identification; even the average Joe knows that these days. Any more questions for me?”

Zane looked to Seth, who asked, “Any evidence of C-22 in his system?”

“I’ve requested the tests. That’s a little bit harder to pull from skeletal remains. I’ll let you know.”

Hank ended the call.

“I guess the C-22 doesn’t matter much if he had two bullet holes in his head,” Seth stated. “Do you mind if I send a county forensics team through Roy’s house?”

“I’d appreciate it. I want every rock looked under in Roy’s case. Bill’s too.” Zane held Seth’s gaze. “These two cases are personal.”



Stevie smiled as she watched Zane pull his Jeep into a parking space at her apartment building. After a small initial uproar, the town had grown used to seeing the police chief’s personal vehicle in her lot overnight a few times a week. Sheila at the office had been the first one to pull Stevie aside and tell her that tongues were wagging.

“Let them wag,” Stevie had said. “Everyone knows we’re seeing each other. We’re not going to pretend we’re virgins. It’s not like we’re both seventeen and have been caught naked in his backseat out at O’Rourke’s Lake.”

Small Town Rule #7: Park a few blocks away unless you want the whole town knowing your business.

She’d even made a point of kissing Zane in the apartment parking lot in full view of several windows. On the job they were professional, but the minute they both left for the day, they had the right to act like any other couple in love.

Yes, she was in love.

He’d said the three little words about a month ago, blurting them out for the first time one night as she was leaving his cabin to get home and sleep, because she’d promised to go fishing at the crack of dawn with her brother Bruce. He’d held tight to her hand, reluctant to let her go for the evening, and the same words had slipped from her mouth, where she’d been holding tight to them for a few weeks.

She’d missed her fishing date.

She was dating a total hottie. So much for her mantra of never dating another cop. But Zane was different. He was loyal, honest, and straightforward. Nothing like her cop ex-boyfriend in LA had been.

She watched Zane jog across the parking lot, his face more relaxed than she’d seen all day at the office. They were both good about setting the day’s work aside and focusing on other aspects of their lives, but Roy’s murder scene had changed that. It’d been too close to their hearts. Last night they’d talked late into the evening about his death, and today there’d been the crushing news that her father might have been killed by the new street drug.