The Lost (Echoes from the Past #9) - Irina Shapiro Page 0,4
to think twice about getting involved in this type of case again, but I can see you’re excited about this.”
“I am,” Quinn admitted.
“I am too. I miss getting my hands dirty,” Gabe said. “And I love hearing the stories.” He turned toward Quinn and removed his sunglasses, looking at her intently. “Promise me you’ll stop if you find it too destressing.”
“I promise. But to be honest, I don’t think any case can be as heartbreaking as that of Annie Edevane. I still dream about that poor little girl.”
Gabe nodded. That case had led to Quinn’s refusal to commit to a third season of Echoes from the Past. She simply couldn’t bring herself to delve into any more tragic deaths, especially those of children.
“Well, this one is an adult,” Quinn said. “Shall we?”
Gabe got out of the car and opened the boot, taking out their kit. He slung one of the bags over his shoulder, hefted the other one, and followed Quinn around the back of the house, where the area in question was clearly marked with yellow and black tape. Rhys stepped out through the French doors at the back and walked toward them, smiling in welcome.
“Quinn. Gabe. Thank you for coming. I’m at your complete disposal. Tea? Coffee? Sandwiches? A curry?” he asked as he followed them to the site. “There’s a decent Indian restaurant in the village.”
“Curry sounds great, Rhys,” Gabe replied as he eyed the upturned roots of the ancient oak. “But for now, a bottle of water will do.”
“On it,” Rhys replied. “I’ll keep you fed and watered for as long as this takes.”
Gabe set down their cases and pulled out two pairs of latex gloves, handing one pair to Quinn. The skeleton was clearly visible, the skull peeking through the gnarled roots as if it were playing hide-and-seek. No wonder Vanessa had been terrified. The scene resembled a particularly ghoulish Halloween display.
“What do you think?” Gabe asked as soon as Rhys headed back toward the house to fetch the water.
Quinn tilted her head to the side as she lowered the camera, having taken a dozen photos of the remains in situ.
“If I had to guess, I’d say this is an adult male. Of course, it could just as easily be a tall woman or a well-developed teenager. We’ll know more once Colin Scott gets it on the slab. Rhys has already called him, so he’ll be expecting me.”
Gabe nodded. “I’m glad you’ll get to work with Colin again. I know you miss him.”
“I do,” Quinn admitted. She hadn’t seen Dr. Colin Scott since he and her brother Logan had broken up for good nearly two years ago. Their first split had come in the summer of 2015, but they’d reconciled after Jo’s sudden death. The relationship hadn’t lasted, however, and it had been Colin who’d ultimately walked away, giving Logan the space he’d needed to find his way forward. As far as Quinn knew, Colin and Logan hadn’t spoken since, and she looked forward to seeing Colin and catching up with him.
Quinn put away the camera and crouched next to the remains. “I think we’re going to have to cut this skelly free,” she said. “Some of the thinner roots have grown through the ribcage and skull. The bones are too brittle and will break if we apply even the slightest pressure.”
“I agree.” Gabe took out industrial-size secateurs from his case. “We’ll cut around it and then extract the trapped bits.”
It took nearly three hours to free the skeleton from the suffocating embrace of the web of roots. Once the support of the latticework had been removed, the skeleton began to come apart, since the bones were no longer held together by joints and ligaments. Quinn spread plastic sheeting on the ground and reconstructed the skeleton, labeling the bones while Gabe excavated the area beneath the grave, using a trowel and brush to sift for any artifacts that might have belonged to the deceased but had become embedded in the soil or stuck to the wood.
“Anything?” Quinn asked as she labeled the last bone and stood up, stretching her aching back.
Gabe shook his head. “Not a bloody thing. Not even a button or a strip of leather.”
“Any evidence of a shroud?”
“Not that I can see, but it would have rotted away by now,” Gabe replied. “This tree was probably no more than a seed when this person was buried. Any organic matter would have decomposed years ago.”