the town where I grew up, they uncovered a graveyard. That’s how I got interested in anthropology. A team came from the university, identified the graves, and relocated them so the highway could go through.”
I wondered about Ben’s sharp look. I got that the bridge would make their lives easier, but they’d done without it this long. What difference did a few months make?
“Good heavens,” said Mrs. McCulloch. “That must have taken forever.”
“Years,” answered Mark. I coughed in surprise, and he realized the tactless hole he’d dug for himself. “That was an extreme case, of course. Property rights and legal issues, as well as identifying the remains from very old church records …” Ben usually played things close to the vest, but all the color drained from his face as the scenario kept getting worse. Mrs. McCulloch looked rather stricken herself.
From his seat on the ground, Lucas offered tentative reassurance. “Those shoe remnants we found should rule out a Native American burial ground, at least. The construction technique is more sophisticated than the foot coverings of the local tribes.”
Dr. Douglas sighed in displeasure. “Let’s please, if at all possible, keep anything else from leaking to the press. It would be nice not to make this any harder on the McCullochs—and me—than it has to be.”
“I appreciate that, Serena,” said Mrs. McCulloch, and it took me a second to realize who she meant, because Dr. Douglas did not look like a Serena. “Now, I hope this question doesn’t seem rude, but how much longer do you think you’ll be here at this stage of things?”
The professor surveyed the field, as if picturing what might be below the surface. “We’ll finish excavating the B site today, then tomorrow we’ll dig some test trenches between the two.”
“What about all this?” I pointed to the big grid the guys had relaid this morning. The baseball diamond.
“That’s much too big a project to tackle without a grant and a dedicated team. I only have these guys for one more day. Well, I have Caitlin for the summer, and I’m stuck with Mark and Emery full-time. But Dwayne, Jennie, and Lucas are almost finished with the mini-term.”
She rose from her seat and stretched. “What we’ll do is dig some holes at regular intervals and see if we turn up anything worth investigating. Then we can come back with funding and a few willing bodies.”
An awkward pause weighted the hot, dusty air. I think we were all thinking about Mark’s story. I wondered if the McCullochs had a Plan B for their bridge.
“Well,” said Mrs. McCulloch with determined cheer, “whatever you find tomorrow, at the end of your day you should come to our Fourth of July party. That includes you girls, too,” she added to me and Phin. “Your aunt never misses it. Your uncle, either, when he was alive.”
Uncle Burt had been gone for fifteen years. My surprise must have shown, and Mrs. McCulloch laughed. “Yes, it’s a hundred-year-old tradition. No one misses it.”
“Not even the Kellys,” said Ben, who’d been quietly sitting on the tailgate of the SUV.
I smiled at him very sweetly. “Then I won’t, either.”
Ben’s mom either missed or ignored the exchange. “And in the meantime, girls, if you need anything, you just give us a call. There’s no cause for you to ever feel spooked or anything in that house all alone. You have Ben’s phone number?”
“Um … I, uh … No,” I stammered. Ben, with a careful absence of expression, dutifully took out his cell for the ritual exchange of digits. Not at all awkward with an audience. I gave him my number and he called me to send me his. Fortunately, my ringtone was the UT fight song, and it would have been unpatriotic to smirk during “Texas Fight.”
Dr. Douglas marshaled her troops. “Break’s over. Let’s see if we can get the rest of our John Doe out of the ground before dinnertime.”
20
mrs. McCulloch—to my surprise—held me back with a question, waiting until the others had cleaned up their lunch trash and moved downhill. Even Ben left, carrying the camp chairs back to ops for Caitlin, but I was pretty sure he hadn’t noticed he’d left me alone with his mother.
She busied herself putting away deli meat and cheese into a big cooler. “I hope that Ben hasn’t made things too difficult for you, Amy.”
How was I supposed to answer that? Of course he had. But I couldn’t tell his mother that.
“He’s obviously under a lot of pressure,” I