The Bone Field by Debra Bokur (the best ebook reader for android .txt) 📗

She raised her brow at him, determined not to let him get a reaction out of her in public. “I can’t imagine ever being thirsty enough to say yes, Chad. But best of luck to you chatting up someone less discerning and far more desperate. And,” she added, “remember that it’ll be tough to hold a glass if your hands are handcuffed behind your back for interfering in a police investigation.”

His face lit up. “So you are here on official business. Good to know. And as far as the handcuffs go, you have my permission to slap a pair on me any time you like.” He blew a kiss in her direction before making his way rapidly along the waterfront, away from the small harbor.

Tomas was there, leaning against the hood of his police car, waiting for her. He watched Chad’s retreating figure.

“What was that all about?” he asked as she drew closer. “One of those fleeting cruise ship romances? He looks vaguely familiar.”

Kali groaned. She opened the rear door of the car and placed her duffel on the seat. She watched as Chad disappeared from view around a bend in the road. “Yep. That’s the one and only Chad Caesar.”

“Oh. The actor, right?”

“Pain in the ass. I think of him as a tall, blond hemorrhoid.”

Tomas threw back his head and laughed. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Just keep an eye out for him near or at the crime scene. He has a podcast blasting made-up news all over the islands. We’re pretty sure he’s using a police scanner, though we haven’t found one yet. He probably heard about the body being discovered on local news, thanks to that couple blabbering. But he’s definitely got some kind of inside scoop on what we’re doing before information is released to the public.”

They climbed into the car. Tomas started the engine and turned the conversation to the investigation.

“You’ll see the search efforts have stepped up considerably since we don’t know what else—or who else, rather—is out there, and there’s a lot of field to dig. We’ve had an aerial map created, but nothing clear has shown up, so Honolulu sent over a couple of people with additional ground-penetrating radar equipment to assist in the field.”

She nodded as he continued speaking.

“Here’s what we’ve got so far on the second body: male, buried about one hundred yards from the first, but not in a kitchen appliance. This one was wrapped in some kind of material, mostly rotted away. Nothing but a skeleton and what’s left of the clothing. It appears to be fully intact. Stitches is waiting till you’ve had a chance to see it before we move him.”

Kali was silent as she turned these facts over in her mind. As she mulled over the few similarities, which seemed to be limited to another male body in a pineapple field, Tomas pulled off the paved main road and onto a bumpy secondary one leading into the island’s interior. A sudden gust of wind threw sand and debris against the side of the car, and she watched apprehensively as the field came fully into view.

CHAPTER 8

The pineapple field was buzzing with activity. Kali wondered briefly if there had been this many people weighing down its surface since the fruit production had ceased years before. A slender, dark-haired man standing next to a tent at the command center looked up as Kali and Tomas pulled to a stop next to a collection of other vehicles. She recognized him as the scene-of-crime officer heading up the team on Lna‘i. He was dressed, as were a number of other people, in the white plastic coveralls so omnipresent at a crime scene. As Kali and Tomas climbed out of the car, the man gave a brief wave, then pointed to a couple of packets stacked on top of a folding table in front of the tent.

Kali and Tomas approached the table. Tomas reached for one of the packets, tossing it to Kali. She caught it and shook out the thin plastic garments contained inside: a spare set of coveralls, an elastic-edged cap, and a pair of booties to pull over her shoes.

“Let’s get you dressed so you can see what we found,” Tomas said, glancing toward a spot behind him where several people were grouped around an opening in the ground. “Coroner’s waiting for you, Burial Council has come and gone—and just a heads-up that Chief Pait’s here, too.”

Kali tried to keep her face neutral, but knew she had failed by the twinkle in Tomas’s eyes. The presence of Maui Chief of Police Leo Pait meant that there was likely a public relations aspect to the investigation that would have to be taken into consideration—a situation that had often caused Kali a great deal of aggravation.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” said Tomas. “My team is going to start on the next section of field. Just in case.”

He walked away, and Kali pulled the plastic suit on. It was baggy and almost immediately hot. She pulled the cap over her hair and slipped the booties over her shoes, then made her way along a newly defined path to the grave site. She could see Stitches engaged in conversation with Chief Pait. She listened as she approached.

“. . . two males,” Pait was saying, shaking his head as he leaned over slightly to look into the open ground near his feet. “I need to know this is the full extent of it, Doctor.” Both he and Stitches turned to Kali as she stopped in front of them. Pait straightened himself to his full height, gazing down on her. Kali was struck, as always, by how thin and narrow and pale he was; his frame was topped by a head full of glistening, snowy hair. Standing on the edge of an open grave, even framed by brilliant sunlight, he looked as if he could be a spirit who’d just stepped out of the deep, sleeping