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

been stashed inside of it. You know, valuable—not just a pile of old bones.”

He fumbled as he saw the expression on Kali’s face. “I mean . . .”

“You mean that the body of some long-dead human being, perhaps a local person, is of no possible concern, or any value.” She watched as he squirmed. “Correct?”

“Well, no, of course not. It’s just that . . .” He looked from Kali to Jan, and back to Kali. “Jan called 911 right away, you know? I mean, a body, right?”

“Yes, a body. Exactly right.”

Jan made a fresh sobbing noise. “I didn’t want to open it,” she said, making an effort to keep her voice from breaking. “In the movies, opening the box buried in the remote field never turns out to be a good thing. I knew there was something bad in there. I just knew it.”

“The skeleton belonged to an actual person, you know,” said Kali. “A living human being who probably had a family and friends.”

“And at least one enemy,” Brad joked.

Kali swallowed her irritation at his shallow response, doing her best to temper her character assessment with some degree of kindness. She turned to the woman, ignoring Brad.

“You could look at it this way: Thanks to you, maybe someone will finally find some peace and closure knowing that their loved one has been found.”

The woman grasped at the thought gratefully.

“Well, glad to have helped, of course. I mean, anything we can do . . .”

“You’re absolutely sure you didn’t find anything else?” Exchanging glances, Brad and Jan shook their heads. They looked directly at her with no apparent subterfuge.

“No,” said Jan. “Nothing at all.”

Kali waited, but they just sat there, disheveled and sweaty. The woman’s shoulders sagged. Kali noticed a small tear in her shirt, as well as soil stains on her beige sneakers. “I’d appreciate a call if anything occurs to you.”

Again the couple looked at one another, before Jan spoke.

“So, it’s okay if we go back to Maui tonight? We have a flight home to California the day after tomorrow. Should we cancel it? Will you need to hold us for more questioning or anything like that?”

Kali suppressed a smile. There were, she thought, simply too many police shows on television these days.

“I don’t think that will be necessary, but we’d appreciate it if you could keep all of this to yourselves until we’ve been in touch,” she said, keeping her voice even. She could tell they were more than ready for cold showers and the hotel bar, where they’d most likely retell their story over and over, no matter how many times she might ask them not to. “Just make sure Officer Alva has all of your contact information before you leave.” She lent them a more serious gaze. “Just in case.”

* * *

The refrigerator, still holding the body, was carefully lifted from the ground and loaded onto the flatbed truck. To give them space to work, a command center for the police and crime scene crew had been set up near the parking area. The surrounding area was searched diligently, the soil sifted for any small item that might shed some light on the moment when the refrigerator had been covered and abandoned. As the day lent itself toward dusk, more lights were set up around the now-empty hole. Armed with a bucket, sieve, and small shovel, Kali helped turn over the loose earth meticulously.

She could see the undulating landscape of the pineapple field rolling off into the distance, shrouded by the growing shadows. Tomas Alva stood just outside the line of light, waiting patiently. Like Kali, he was covered in dirt.

“We’re going to shut this down for the night,” he said wearily. “Probably take forever, but we’ve got a team using ground-penetrating radar coming in the morning, and a crew to start digging up the rest of the field if necessary . . . in case the head’s nearby.”

It won’t be, Kali told herself. The pineapple suggested that the burial had had some sort of ritual significance, and it was unlikely that a head had been relegated to a separate box and conveniently planted somewhere in the vicinity. She kept her thoughts to herself. It wouldn’t hurt the SOC crew to spend a few days with backhoes and shovels. The last thing she wanted to do was keep anyone from feeling useful.

She felt Tomas’s eyes on her. They’d known one another for years, and she suspected that he’d likely read the gist of her thoughts. He said nothing, only grinned tiredly.

“I’ll give you a ride into town when you’re ready,” he said.

She brushed herself off, succeeding only in making her hands dirtier than they already were.

“I’m going to make a mess of your car seat,” she said, somewhat apologetically.

“Can’t get any dirtier than my seat will be,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get you settled, and I’ll go and see if there’s any supper left for me at home.”

They walked to the car and climbed inside. For a moment, Tomas sat with his head back against his headrest. He reached forward slowly, turning the key that had been left in the ignition. As the car’s engine rumbled softly, he backed out of the makeshift parking spot and pulled onto the narrow track leading to the two-lane main road.

They rode in silence for a minute. Then Tomas turned to Kali. “Can you think of any reason someone would replace a head with a wooden hala kahiki?”

She considered his question. “Well . . . it’s an obvious way to conceal the victim’s identity, at least in the short term,” she offered. “But I think it’s more likely there was something significant about the choice. Why not a real hala kahiki? It’s not as though there’s a pineapple shortage here. Market shelves are full of them.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Seems like someone went through considerable effort to find a wooden one.”

Not if the person’s death had been planned in advance, and the carved pineapple had been conveniently