door.
While the cat seemed to be making it okay at the visitor center, if she didn’t take her home, Emma would have to drive to Mount Locust to feed the kitten on her days off. Either way, the little thing would be by herself a couple of days a week. Mentally she added a cat carrier to the list of things she needed to get if she took the cat home with her. That way she could bring her back and forth.
Still feeling the lighthearted music in her heart, Emma paused while the cat wound herself around her legs. She’d better enjoy this moment of calm. No telling what the rest of the day might bring.
Emma waited until Sheila parked her vehicle, and then with a wave she walked to the back of the inn, where orange flags marked the location of the slave cabins. Passing them, she followed the path to the cemetery and wound her way to the investigation site, careful not to step inside the markers that indicated where someone was buried. She glanced at the small concrete post to her right. Handmade markers were long gone, and it was her dream to have more than a wooden sign naming those who were laid to rest in the slave cemetery.
She wanted individual markers, even though she had no idea who was buried where. DNA could give the world those answers, but that would mean excavating the graves. Judging from Corey’s client, that was not going to happen. And part of her could understand not wanting the graves disturbed, especially by someone who didn’t have a relative buried here. At the very least, she wanted to make sure every person buried here was accounted for.
If someone had been buried in the pit, she wanted them identified and closure brought to that family as well. It was her fervent prayer that she hadn’t been excavating a burial site. Emma cocked her head toward the cemetery as angry voices reached her. What was going on?
20
While Emma checked in at the visitor center, Sam drove to the maintenance area and parked next to Nate’s SUV. After grabbing a flashlight and his camera along with a box with gel lifters, he climbed out of the Interceptor, eyeing the white Lexus in the parking lot. He hadn’t been back in Natchez long enough to know who drove luxury cars, but he doubted anything good could come from the car being there.
As he approached the site, he noticed the tent was once again over the pit, and it looked like Nate’s crime scene crew hadn’t arrived. Good. He’d wanted to search for prints on the backhoe before they went over it. But for now, the heated argument between Corey Chandler and Nate caught his attention. So that’s who the Lexus belonged to.
“You are desecrating the cemetery, and my client will not stand for this. He’s prepared to take you to court to stop this.” Red splotches dotted Corey’s face as he waved a paper.
“And I say this is a crime scene,” Nate said, standing almost toe-to-toe with the attorney.
Evidently Corey’s client had learned they’d been digging at Mount Locust. Sam would love to know how Corey, and his client as well, got their information.
“You better dig all you want today, because I’m seeing the judge later this afternoon,” Corey said.
“We’re pretty well through digging, aren’t we?” Sam asked.
Turning, Corey stepped out of Nate’s space. “What are you doing here, Ryker?”
“My job, and bringing Emma to work.”
The attorney looked beyond Sam. “Where is she?”
“At the visitor center. Why does your client want to stop the study? And who is it?”
“That’s privileged, and he doesn’t want to stop the study, but he’d like to see a person of color conducting it. Most of all, he doesn’t want anyone digging around the cemetery. It’s sacred ground, and Emma promised that wouldn’t happen.”
Nate folded his arms across his chest. “Evidently you’re not listening to me. Emma didn’t dig this. An unknown subject dug the hole you’re looking at. We’re just investigating whatever was buried here.”
“And Emma told you that last night at Jug Head’s,” Sam said.
Corey’s mouth twitched. “That’s true, but I had no idea a backhoe was involved. That’s not quite the same thing as excavating with a shovel.”
“You’re still not listening. We did not dig this hole.” Sam clamped his mouth shut and counted to ten. The man was unreasonable. He tried again. “And even if we did, according to the diagram from the previous project,