Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(12)

Nolan stepped up to the table, zeroing in on the sandal. Sara read the disappointment on his face.

“We haven’t found the other one.” Sara picked up the ruler she’d used for scale when taking photographs. “The heel is six centimeters. It’s hard to imagine someone hiking or even walking out here in shoes like that for any length of time.”

He stared down at the items. “What about the fabric?” He looked up. “It’s from her clothes?”

“Again, the sex is unconfirmed.”

His eyebrows arched.

“I know it seems far-fetched, but I once worked a case where bones and women’s clothing were found in a well, and police were about to arrest a nearby resident for killing his wife, who’d been missing. But the remains turned out to be a male prostitute—dressed as a female—who’d been kidnapped and murdered. I really can’t tell you anything with certainty until we get all this back to the lab. At that point, I can get you the Big Four.” Sara ticked them off on her fingers. “That’s age, sex, race, and stature.”

“Any chance you’ll be back at the lab tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. This is a time-consuming process, and there’s no cutting corners.” She nodded at Keith and Julia, doggedly sifting through every scoopful of dirt she and Aaron had removed from the grave. “Everything from the pit has to be sifted for clues—a wad of gum, a cigarette butt, a scrap of duct tape. The tiniest bit of evidence could be a critical lead. This work takes time.”

Nolan studied the fabric, which had a sheen to it. The cloth was rotted and discolored, likely the remnants of a dress or a long blouse based on the shape of the garment.

And again, not what you would expect a hiker to be wearing.

“Cause of death?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Nothing obvious, though, such as a bullet through the skull. As for manner of death, again, it’s unclear at this point. I haven’t ruled out suicide or accidental death. Maybe this person was out here sightseeing and stepped off a cliff.”

Nolan looked at her, his expression grim. He wanted answers. And she planned to give them to him, but she needed time to study the remains and confirm her initial findings.

“When did Kaylin go missing, exactly?” she asked.

“May sixth of last year. Fourteen months ago.”

Yet another factor that didn’t line up. Sara wasn’t sure of the postmortem interval yet, but everything she’d seen so far pointed to a PMI of less than fourteen months.

Nolan combed his hand through his hair and stepped back.

“This family’s desperate,” he said, clearly frustrated. “You have no idea.”

“I do.” She held his gaze.

“This girl’s parents are begging me for information, and I have to give them something, even if it’s bad news. These people are in agony.”

“I understand. That’s one reason I do this work, Nolan. I know how excruciating it is for people, and I promise to get you some answers. We’re working as fast as we can.”

He looked at her for a long moment, and Sara knew he was desperate, too. And not just for answers about Kaylin. If these bones weren’t hers, he was potentially looking at two victims in his jurisdiction.

Nolan was a leader. She’d sensed that about him from the moment they met. He held himself accountable for everything that happened in his jurisdiction.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he stared down at the lonely white sandal that had been ravaged by the elements.

“I left an envelope on the front seat of your car,” he said. “It’s X-rays from when Kaylin was a child. Her parents are hoping they might help with the ID.”

“Thank you. I’ll take a look.”

Nolan’s attention shifted to the burial pit, then back to Sara. “How can I help?”

“Well, the water’s a big help.”

“I’m serious. Give me a shovel, and let me pitch in with the real work.”

Sara had expected the offer. “Are you trained in bone recovery?”

“No, but you can teach me.”

“This isn’t the place. Come visit us at the lab, and we can put you in a class with some grad students.”

“There has to be something I can do for you.”

Sara gazed up at him, once again seeing the determination in his eyes. “Well, there is something. I’ve been putting it off because I’m a bit squeamish.”

“You? Squeamish?” He smiled. “You dig up corpses for a living.”

“Yes, well, I’m claustrophobic. Do you have any problem with tight spaces?”

“No. Show me what you need.”

Ignoring the curious looks from Keith and Julia, Sara retrieved a pair of flashlights from the equipment bin and handed one to Nolan. She grabbed her camera from beside the burial pit and looped it around her neck.

“This way.”

She led him under the shadow of an overhang and tromped along the floor of the gorge, acutely aware of his large male presence beside her. Given his size, he was probably going to regret volunteering for this. Sara spied the carved initials on the rock face and pointed to the yawning black opening about five feet above the ground.

“You want me to check out that cave?” he asked.