Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(42)

“Sara in there?” Nolan asked.

“Nope. Haven’t seen her in a while.”

Nolan scanned the chaotic scene. All the Delphi people wore blue coveralls, but Nolan didn’t see a petite blonde in their midst giving orders. The two burial pits had been cordoned off with yellow scene tape. Brad Crowley stood off to the side, chatting with a young woman. She had long braids and wore a red ACSAR T-shirt.

Nolan walked over and interrupted them. “Either of you seen Sara Lockhart?”

Crowley looked around. “She was just here.”

“She walked into the woods.” The woman pointed. “That way.”

“Why?”

“Dunno.” She shrugged. “Bathroom break?”

Doubtful. Not with a luxury RV right there.

Nolan trekked past the burial site and into the woods, following a hard-packed trail for mountain bikes. The path was hemmed in by cedar trees and mesquite bushes. Nolan heard a faint noise in the distance. He followed the sound of retching until he found Sara bent in half beside a boulder. She straightened and took a step, then swayed.

“Whoa.” He rushed over and grabbed her arm just as she bent forward and threw up on his boot. She tried to tug her arm away, but he held it steady and pulled her hair back from her face.

For a moment, she was stock-still. Nolan pulled a folded bandanna from his back pocket and handed it to her.

“Sorry,” she gasped, dabbing her mouth.

“You good?”

She nodded and stood up. Her green eyes were watery. “Sorry,” she repeated as she wiped her chin. She glanced at his boots and closed her eyes. “God, how embarrassing.”

“These are my crime-scene shoes. They’ve seen worse.” Nolan glanced around, looking for any sign of bones or fresh graves. “What are you doing way back here?”

She laughed and folded his bandanna. “Who uses these anymore?”

Nolan just watched her. Her cheeks were pink—from heat and sunburn and probably embarrassment, too.

“Here, take a load off.” Nolan guided her to another big rock, and she leaned against it.

“I didn’t want my team to see me puking my guts up,” she said. “Not exactly good for morale.”

“Is it the smell?”

She shook her head. “I’m immune to it now. I think maybe it’s the heat. But this never happens to me. We’ve even got some shade today.”

“Yeah, well, it’s ninety-eight degrees, and you’ve been out here six hours. Those are tough working conditions. You should take a break in the air-conditioning.”

She gave him a scowl, which let him know she was recovering. “Guatemala was tougher. And we had no AC anywhere.”

Nolan didn’t have a comeback for that, so he just watched her. Even with watery eyes and vomit-spattered coveralls, she looked beautiful. But he sensed she wouldn’t appreciate a compliment right now.

“How’s the excavation coming?” he asked.

“Good.” She seemed grateful for a change of subject. “We’ve made steady progress on the two pits. Should be finished by evening.”

“Today?”

“Yes.”

“What can you tell me?” He held up his hand as she started to protest. “I know nothing’s official yet, and I won’t hold you to it. Just give me a sense of what it’s looking like.”

She took a deep breath. “Two individuals. Separate graves and different postmortem intervals.”

“Any idea how long ago they were buried?”

“I have to run some tests—soil pH, that sort of thing. But my guesstimate is between one and two years ago.”

“Both victims?”

“Yes. And so far, no obvious cause of death, such as bullet holes or blunt-force trauma to the skull,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Okay, what about clothes or jewelry, anything personal that might help with gender or ID?”

“In one of the graves we found a small arrow-shaped pendant on a broken chain. I plan to check the database for it. No clothing in either.”

“What, nothing?”

“Not even fabric remnants.”

Nolan stared at her. Then he muttered a curse and turned away. He thought of that sick bastard out here dumping a naked woman into a shallow grave.

“Another thing, Nolan?”

He looked at Sara.

“They’re young.”

“You mean like teenagers or—”

“Probably early twenties.”

Nolan’s chest tightened as he watched her. She looked tired and defeated. Yes, she had been doing this a long time. And yes, she’d seen a lot. But clearly, this case was getting to her.

It was getting to him, too.

“What are you thinking?” Sara asked.

“This whole discovery reinforces my case theory.” He nodded toward Sangria. “Kaylin liked to climb there. I think she was there when she witnessed something suspicious, and that’s what made her a target for this unsub. I think the backpack in the other park was a decoy, meant to throw us off. But I think whoever buried these women here likely saw Kaylin and grabbed her. Maybe he took her someplace else, but this area is the original crime scene.”

Sara sighed. “I wish that didn’t make sense, but it does, unfortunately.” She refolded his handkerchief and tucked it into her pocket. “I’ll wash this for you.”