Lake Resort. The sign was weathered and the paint was peeling. The resort used to give guided trail rides, canoe trips, and provide a place for camping. Three years before, the owners went bankrupt and closed it down. Now the deserted camp was used by the homeless and rowdy teenagers.
Robb turned the car onto a dirt road. Vegetation had reclaimed part of it and there were potholes to navigate. There had been heavy rains the week before that would have wiped out any trace of tire tracks. The lead car stopped in a gravel parking lot in front of an abandoned log cabin that had served as the office and rec room for the camp. Santoro could also see the empty stables and cabins. The area was surrounded by dense woods. Straight ahead, a sharp wind was driving the blue-green waters of a large lake onto a rocky beach.
The van from the crime lab and the morgue wagon pulled in. Robb parked next to the patrol car. When she got out of the car, the wind off the lake seared her cheeks. Robb turned up her coat collar before opening the back door of the car that had transported the prisoner. Jefferson got out. Then Lester edged across the seat and stood up. He was handcuffed and his ankles were secured by manacles. Santoro watched him carefully when Robb unlocked his shackles.
“Thanks,” Lester said as he shook out his hands and hopped up and down for a few seconds.
“Where is the body, Barry?” Robb asked.
Lester turned in a circle and stopped when he spotted the lake.
“Okay. We go along the woods on the left toward the water. He said there was a trail.”
“Lead on,” Santoro told him. Lester started walking with his lawyer close behind and the detectives on either side. Nick Winters and an assistant from the morgue followed the forensic experts. The officers who had driven Lester took shovels out of the trunk of their car and brought up the rear.
A narrow hiking trail led into the woods a few yards from the lakeshore.
“Let the people from the crime lab go first,” Santoro ordered. A man and two women worked their way cautiously down the trail, recording everything with a video camera.
“He said he buried her about a quarter of a mile in on the left side of the trail,” Lester said.
He scanned the underbrush, then stopped suddenly and pointed to another trail that led into the forest.
“This should be it,” Lester said. “The grave shouldn’t be too far in. Blair told me he got tired carrying the body. That she was heavy, so he couldn’t go too far.”
“Wait here,” Santoro said as he and Robb followed the techs down the new trail. They had not gone far when they saw a cleared area with dirt that looked freshly turned. As soon as the forensic experts finished, Santoro ordered the officers with the shovels to get to work.
“And be gentle,” he said. “Treat this like an archaeological dig. The lab techs will supervise.”
The officers had moved a small amount of dirt off the grave when one of them stopped and pointed at something shiny that was half buried under some soil.
“What’s that?” he asked.
The woman from the forensic team used a light whisk broom to brush away the material covering the object. She was wearing gloves. She picked up the object and placed it in an evidence bag held by one of the other techs. The third forensic expert photographed the whole thing with a video camera. The technician with the envelope held it up. Santoro peered through the plastic at a key that looked very similar to the one he used to open his front door.
It didn’t take much more digging before a bloodless white knuckle was uncovered. The policeman who had exposed it called over the lab techs, and everyone else gathered at the edge of the grave.
“I told you,” Lester said, pleased as could be. Everyone else was somber.
As more dirt was tossed out of the grave, more and more of Carrie Blair was revealed. The blood that stained the front of her white blouse had dried and looked brown and flakey. Her face was drained of color and patches of skin had rotted away, revealing bleached bone and tissue. Santoro looked away out of respect. Robb stared hard and seethed.
“It looks like Mr. Lester came through for us,” Santoro told Jefferson, who was keeping his head up and his eyes away from the corpse.
“Indeed