A Bad Day for Sunshine (Sunshine Vicram #1)(75)

Sun leaned over to look at it.

“It looks like he was dragged here from another location. See all that dirt?”

Sun nodded.

“He may have been buried at some point. If so, he was dug up. He’s missing several bones. I will, of course, do the usual workup. But as an initial point of note, there’s an awful lot of blood on his clothing for all of it be postmortem, which would be the case if he did die of natural causes or exposure.”

“Homicide?”

“Wouldn’t rule it out just yet. I’ll let you know my findings, unless you want to be notified when I’m starting.”

“Maybe. We’re working a missing persons case.”

“Another one?” she asked.

“The girl. Sybil St. Aubin.”

“Oh yes. Okay, well, keep me updated, and I’ll text you either way.”

“Thanks, Jack. Brick,” she said softly. “What more can this family take?” she asked Quincy, who was standing back, not particularly interested in the particulars, but the minute she did so, she noticed a bolo around Brick’s neck with a silver slide.

Quincy scoffed, though, and when she questioned him with quick glance, he said, “I’d bet my last dollar the same family you are worried about is the one who put him out here.”

She couldn’t argue that. Levi’s uncles were ruthless.

The bolo, made of dark braided leather and a slide with matching metal tips, looked handmade. And expensive. The fact that he still had both it and the cash in his pocket could rule out robbery, unless he’d been carrying something else more valuable.

The day grew brighter and warmer with each passing moment. The snow started melting off. The warmth felt good against her face.

Sun looked past Quincy to see if Levi was still on the hill. He was, and she shook her head. He had to be almost falling over.

Search and rescue was probably already packed up and heading out. She needed to check on the Book Babes, make sure they’d made it down the mountain okay, and get back on Sybil’s case.

She had her deputies canvassing the entire town, asking questions and showing Sybil’s picture. They were running the images on the news every hour as well. And they were still waiting on the partial print. Unlike in the movies or on TV, that kind of thing took time. Time she didn’t have.

Before she could get to the ATV, she caught sight of a small building sitting even farther down in the valley, just past the next hill.

“What is that?” she asked Quince.

He cupped a hand across his brow. “Huh. No idea. I’ve only been up here once, and that was a long time ago.”

She started toward it.

“Want to check it out? I’ll get the ATV,” Quincy said.

“No, it’s okay. It’s not far. I’ll just walk.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Or you could help them pack up here.”

He pointed to the forensics team. “They’re still working. What can I pack up?”

“The DB, for starters.”

He made a face, and Sun tried not to laugh. She only slipped twice on the way down the hill. The closer she got, the more she realized the small shed would be almost invisible on the ground. She only saw it because of her vantage point, but she had to navigate a copse of trees to get to it.

It sat lopsided. A tree had grown into the side and was pushing it to the left. The effect was strange and haunting. It had been whitewashed at one time, but the color had almost completely faded, and in its place sat a pale gray.

The door had been busted off the hinges. It barely hung on and creaked with the light breeze. She couldn’t imagine how it had survived the storm the night before.

Sun eased open the door, afraid it would fall off completely. Two small windows on either side of the building let in just enough light to illuminate the dingy room and reveal a filthy mattress on the floor of the building.

Nothing else. Just a mattress, a broken lamp, and a smattering of debris all covered in a healthy dose of an arachnophobic’s worst nightmare: thick curtains of spiderwebs.

She pushed one aside and stepped into the building, the ground beneath her feet tilting slightly as she noticed a metal loop bolted to one of the exposed beams in the unfinished walls.

A sharp sting burned against her temple, but it was the scent that had her reeling. She recognized it. Lantern oil? Gasoline? She couldn’t tell. She spotted an upended can of thick black liquid and knew it was the source of the smell.

Her abdomen seized, and she felt the burn of bile as it rose to the back of her throat. She bolted to get out and tripped on her own two feet, slamming her head on the door and falling into the snow outside as the world spun around her.

She remembered that scent. She remembered the thin stripes in the mattress. The brown stains on the floor. The spiders crawling across her face when she could do nothing about it.

She’d been here. The memory and the knowledge doubled her over.

She grabbed her radio and pressed the Talk button. “Quince, get down here.”

“What happened?” he asked in alarm.

“Nothing. It’s empty, but I want this entire area cordoned off and processed. Do not let that team leave until every inch of this valley has been photographed, bagged, and tagged.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, and she could hear him running. Then she heard the ATV speeding toward the copse of trees, and she lay in the snow, her vision blurry, her stomach on the verge of emptying its contents right then and there.