The Bones She Buried: A completely gripping, heart-stopping crime thriller(12)

Mettner watched from the doorway, arms crossed. “Do you want to try to clean things up before Noah does the walk-through? We could start in here where there’s not too much of a mess.”

Josie knew that restoring Colette’s home to its usual neatness might make Noah feel better so she turned to the wall and started pushing all the small drawers back into place. Then she moved to the table and righted the sewing machine. Back up the right way, it still wobbled unevenly on the table. “This is heavy,” she muttered.

Mettner came over and grabbed each side of it, shifting it to try to make it sit level.

“Careful,” Josie admonished, although she wasn’t sure why. Colette would never use the machine again, and Josie was fairly certain that none of her children were going to take up sewing.

Mettner tilted the sewing machine and turned his head to get a look at the bottom of it. “The base is loose,” he said.

Josie moved around to his side of the table, bending to see. “Oh no,” she said. “I see a crack on one side. That’s why the bottom is loose. Still, it should sit upright. Try again.”

Mettner spent several seconds trying to make it stand straight before they heard another crack.

“Oh no,” he said. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

“Shit,” Josie said. “Just lay it back on its side. I don’t want to do any more damage. We’ll leave it like that. I can try to fix it later, before her children do a walk-through. It’s just plastic, a spot of glue should do the trick.”

Mettner’s large hands cupped either side of the machine, but he hesitated to move it again and cause more damage. “Mett,” Josie said. “Seriously. We’ll get some crazy glue and fill those cracks right in.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he slowly lowered the machine onto its side. “It didn’t just crack,” he said. “Dammit. Look at this.”

The plastic panel at the bottom was hanging almost completely loose.

“Oh geez,” Josie said. “Okay, just leave it like that.”

Gently, she tried to fit the base back on, but it wouldn’t click into place. Mettner stood by silently, arms crossed tightly over his chest, as though he was watching an operation. Josie shook her head, and was about to turn and usher them both out of the room when something caught her eye. She drew closer, peering at the machine. Poking out from amongst the inner workings of the sewing machine was the edge of a clear sandwich bag with a sliding clasp.

“What’s this?” Josie asked.

Mettner stepped forward and peered over Josie’s shoulder while she gently tugged on the corner of the plastic bag. The baggie fell out, making a small clunk on the wooden table. Josie and Mettner stared at it. Josie said, “Do you have gloves?”

“You think it’s important?” Mettner asked.

“Well, I don’t know, but if it is, I’d like to be wearing gloves.”

Mettner reached inside his jacket and pulled out a pair of protective gloves which he handed to Josie. She snapped them on and picked up the bag, holding it up to the light so they could get a better look at what was inside.

Josie shifted the bag in her hands, inspecting what appeared to be three items inside of it.

“Should I call the ERT?” Mettner asked. “Establish a chain of custody?”

Josie nodded. “I don’t know what these things are, but it sure is strange that Colette would hide them in the base of her sewing machine.”

Mettner took out his phone. “I know when my grandmother got older and started getting confused, she was always putting things in strange places. Once I found her car keys in the freezer.”

Josie shook her head. “No. I think she hid this on purpose. This wasn’t an easily accessible hiding spot. And look how wrinkled and rumpled the bag is—it’s been in there for some time. Call the ERT.”





Eight





Mettner called Hummel, who was the head of the Evidence Response Team. Hummel arrived ten minutes later, photographed the bag and the sewing machine and then, with gloved hands, he shook out the three items onto the sewing table. Mettner also donned a pair of gloves as he watched Josie pick up the items one by one. The first item was a flash drive with some writing on it.

“What does it say?” Mettner asked as Josie squinted at small, handwritten letters squeezed onto its surface.

“Pratt,” Josie answered. She looked up at Mettner and Hummel. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Both shook their heads. Josie put the flash drive aside and picked up the second object. It was a flat stone that fit easily in her palm, narrowing to a point at one end. The other end was wide and straight-edged but notched in on both sides.

“What is it?” Mettner asked.

Josie turned it over in her gloved hands. “I think it’s an arrowhead.” It was light brown, its uneven rocky surface dulled and smoothed. “Jasper,” Josie added.

“What’s that?” Mettner asked.

“This is a jasper point. The Native Americans who were here in Pennsylvania before this country was established used stone to fashion their tools, jewelry, and all kinds of things. They made arrows out of a few different types of stone found here—flint, quartz, and jasper. Ray and I used to look for them in the woods when we were kids.”