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  And it wasn’t like she had a family waiting for her at home, anyway.

  Or hell, even a dog.

  They pushed out of the gate and began walking up the hill. “Did you get the campers reserved for the excavation this afternoon?”

  “Yep. Well, only one. The other’s already been reserved. I’m packing my tent. Supposed to be seventy-five in Berry Springs over the next two days, nights in the mid-sixties. Perfect camping weather. Nothing like fall in the mountains.”

  “Okay, mountain man, I’ll sleep in Chitty Chitty Bone Bone, and you get the rocks. Fine by me. Although, you might feel differently when you wake up next to a hungry black bear.”

  “Bear?”

  She grinned. “Yep… snakes, coyotes, mountain lions…”

  “Oh, my.”

  Sadie laughed.

  “Like you wanted to share anyway,” grinning, he slid her the side-eye.

  “Hey, I don’t mind one bit.”

  “Yeah, right, little Miss anti-social.”

  “Some of us have work to do in the evenings.”

  “Well, some of us need to be social with everyone else.”

  “And watch the bottom of the whiskey bottle disappear?”

  “Exactly… Hey, so that reminds me. Are you going to ask Kimi to join us?”

  “Kimi, as in, that new forensic pathologist, Kimi?”

  “Do we have anyone else at the lab named Kimi?”

  Sadie rolled her eyes. Griffin’s smartassery was already legendary at KT Crime Labs. “Hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “I think she’s from the area. Or lived there awhile, at least.”

  “How do you know that?” Smirking, she looked at Griffin.

  “Unlike you, I care to get to know my fellow KT co-workers.”

  “Yeah right.” She laughed. Kimi Haas was close to a decade younger than Sadie and had recently accepted a position with KT Labs where she was still in the training period, and was expected to assist with as many cases as possible to learn the ropes. Sadie wasn’t a fan of anyone on her team dating—or dating in the workplace in general—but from the moment Griffin had laid eyes on the black-haired, dark-eyed, legs-for-days newbie, Sadie knew he was a goner.

  “Anyway, considering she knows the area, I thought it would be good to have her.”

  “Okay, fine, I’ll invite her along. But no funny business, Mr. Charming.”

  “You can’t just turn this off, Miss Hart.” He winked and flexed a bicep.

  “What a gentleman.”

  “Hey, what can I say? Mama raised me right.”

  “Then mama also raised you to keep your eye on the ball, and off young, impressionable women’s asses, so you can keep a paying job.”

  “Message received, boss.”

  They walked up the front steps that led up to the sprawling, three story mirrored building that was home to KT Crime Labs.

  “Alright,” Sadie said as they pushed through the glass door and stepped into the marble lobby. “I’ll be in my office after my meeting, then we’ll hit the road around noon to head to little ole’ Berry Springs…” She emphasized her southern accent and tipped an invisible cowboy hat. “Maybe get some cheese grits while we’re at it.”

  Griffin laughed.

  “I’m hoping it’s just a one-nighter.”

  “Me, too. One night in a tent’s enough for me. Good luck at your meeting. Kick ass.”

  Sadie stepped into the elevator as Griffin disappeared down the hall.

  A one-nighter. Just one night digging up bones in remote mountains that were rumored to be haunted.

  As the shiny elevator doors closed, she looked at herself in the reflection.

  Just one night to leave this place behind and pretend the last twenty-four hours never happened.

  Chapter 3

  After keying in her security code, Sadie stepped into the lab and clicked on the lights. The click, click, click, of the wall clock echoed off the blinding white walls as she grabbed a lab coat. Not a soul around, which wasn’t surprising considering it was only seven in the morning. And this morning, of all mornings, Sadie needed silence. Solitude. Hell, she needed a bottle of wine and a ten foot rope.

  Her computer came to life with a buzz and she inwardly groaned as she watched the emails populate one by one, several marked “important.”

  Shocker.

  Careful to avoid the internet, Sadie glanced at her to-do list—almost as long as her unanswered email list—and decided to take five minutes to cross a few things off before her meeting.

  Sadie grabbed her laptop, an evidence box from the cabinet, then made her way to the microscopes. After removing the manubrium bone from the box and placing it onto the slide, she shifted back to her computer and pulled up the related case. She settled into a chair and clicked through the file, reading each document for the umpteenth time.

  Something wasn’t adding up.

  In deep thought, Sadie blew the top of her eight-dollar triple shot mocha cappuccino, then took a sip.

  She set down the coffee and shook her head. No, something definitely wasn’t adding up.

  With determination giving her a jolt of energy, she peered into the microscope, then back at the pictures. Then repeated, again and again.

  Click, click, click… Seconds turned into minutes as she studied and analyzed, as she was trained to do.

  Case number 7890 was of a human skeleton found in an abandoned barn in a remote area twenty minutes out of town. The woman, Jennifer Miller, was identified by her high school class ring that was dangling on her middle metacarpal. According to the case file, Jennifer’s boyfriend, who lived just seven miles from the barn, was issued a restraining order before she went missing the next day, never to be seen again. When the body was excavated, the medical examiner suggested Jennifer had possibly been stabbed in the chest. According to the interview transcript, the boyfriend admitted to owning multiple hunting knives, and to not having an alibi the night Jennifer went missing, but he did not admit to murdering his girlfriend. They needed more to prove that Jennifer’s boyfriend stabbed her to death. That’s when the bones were sent to her.

  After ten minutes, Sadie blinked, pulled back from the scope and rolled her neck from side to the side. The shades and lines of the bone were beginning to blur together.

  “Hey, Sadie?”

  Sadie squeaked like a mouse, her arm jerking, spilling her coffee onto the table.

  “Shit!” She jumped up—her seat flying backward—as Sam, the front desk receptionist, darted over.

  “Grab the scope!” Sadie threw her body over the table, using her lab coat to soak up coffee threatening to destroy thousands of dollars of equipment. The liquid scorched her stomach as a handful of napkins rained down on her.

  “Here, girl, here!” Sam tossed the napkins like dollar bills at a strip club, then grabbed the microscope.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Sadie whined as she wiped up the mess—well, most of it. She straightened and looked at Sam, holding the microscope above her golf-ball sized eyes.

  “I am so sorry, Sadie.”

  “You saved the bone, that’s all that matters.” Sadie took the scope, the smell of chocolate coffee permeating the air.

  “But not your clothes.”

  No, not her clothes. Sadie grimaced as she looked down at her white lab coat now covered in coffee and chocolate swirls. As she opened the coat to assess the damage to her brand-new, white silk blouse, she heard—

  “Dr. Hart…”

  Sadie glanced up just as a large silhouette stepped into the lab.

  Sam flashed Sadie an I’m-sorry look, before clearing her throat and saying, “Sadie, this is Detective Dave Arbuckle with Clement PD.”

  Her jaw clenched as the silhouette came into view. “Yes, we’ve spoken several times but haven’t officially met.”

  Chest puffed out like a man with something to prove, the two-hundred and fifty pound detective strode across the lab—as if he owned the place—the dim la
b lights reflecting off his freshly shaved head and the gold tips on his alligator-skin cowboy boots.

  “Detective Arbuckle came by to see if you had any updates for him on case 7890.”

  At seven o’clock in the damn morning.

  Arbuckle’s mustache twitched as his gaze lowered to Sadie’s coffee-covered lab coat.

  Dammit. Fantastic first impression. And Sadie had learned quickly that her first impressions were very important, considering everyone that met her was expecting a fifty-something year-old male. Not a thirty-one-year-old brunette with a smattering of freckles that no lightening cream could make go away.

  She squared her shoulders and thrust out a hand. “Nice to officially meet you—”

  “Do you have an update for me?”

  Her brow cocked as she pulled her hand away from the bear-trap grip.

  “Well, Detective,” meeting his brisk tone with an attitude of her own, “In the voicemail I left for you—at four-thirty yesterday afternoon—I told you that I would have something for you by the end of today.” She glanced at the clock to make her point, then back at him.

  “Okey-doke, then,” Sam sucked in a breath. “Uh, Sadie, I’ll leave you two alone. Sorry about…” she pointed finger along the chocolate streaks on Sadie’s lab coat. “… all that. And Detective, I’ll show you out when you’re ready.”

  A grunt in response.

  As Sam scurried out, Arbuckle crossed his arms over his meaty chest and settled back onto his heels making sure there was no mistake that he came here to get answers.

  Just like all the others, Sadie thought. Each case was more important than the next, each bone needing her undivided attention at that exact moment. It was as if they thought all she had to do was glance at the remains and, with a twinkle of her nose and a handful of fairy dust, she was able to instantly tell the person’s entire life story. Well, forensic anthropology didn’t work like that, and apparently Detective Arbuckle didn’t get that.

  Yes, he was just like all the others, but there was something more to this one… an undercurrent of sexism, mixed with ageism, in his voice every time they’d spoken over the phone.

  And sexism and ageism were two things Sadie didn’t tolerate.

  She continued, “I’m not finished examining the bone, as I said on the voicemail. I’ll have the report to you this afternoon…”

  Her attention was pulled to a steady drip, drip, drip, breaking the silence. She frowned and glanced over her shoulder.

  Sadie gasped as she turned to the equipment where a steady stream of coffee ran off the side of the counter onto the electrical outlet on the wall.

  Dammit!

  In one swift move, she grabbed the used napkins from the trash can, squatted down and mopped up the remaining mess, feeling the man’s disapproval boring into her backside. Her sneakers squeaked on the slick floor as she stood.

  Dammit, dammit, dammit.

  Resigning to the disaster of her morning, Sadie blew out a breath just as the detective stepped past her.

  “That’s the bone, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is. I was just looking at it before you walked in.” She forced the fluster aside—she was damn good at what she did and she wasn’t going to let his guy, or her shit-morning, knock her off her game.

  He looked at her, some of the air deflating from his chest. “I’d really appreciate some sort of update, Dr. Hart. There have been significant advancements in the case, and this is the missing piece of the puzzle.”

  “Well, you might not like this piece, Detective.” She pushed past him and sat in front of the scope. “It’s my understanding you believe the victim was murdered, correct?”

  “That’s correct, based on, among other things, the restraining order issued to her boyfriend the day before she went missing.”

  “And you determined her identity by the jewelry found in the grave, correct?”

  “Right.”

  “Miss Miller was eighteen years old, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “And your assumption is that she was stabbed to death, correct?”

  “That’s your job to determine that.”

  She leaned into the scope. “Well, based on your notes in the file, the initial assessment was that she was stabbed. Your words, exactly.”

  “Fine. That’s right.”

  Sadie leaned back and swiveled her chair to face him. “The markings you noted on the sternum that led you to believe the victim had been stabbed are not kerf marks.”

  “Kerf marks?”

  “Right. The markings are not from a tool, detective, they are from scavengers.”

  Arbuckle’s bloodshot eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m one hundred percent sure.” She slid back and stood. “Have a look.”

  As the detective stepped forward, she continued, “There are two types of scavengers, carnivores and rodents. The scores on the bone that you noticed are from rodents.”

  He peered into the scope.

  “You can see multiple small striations—not just one, as assumed by the naked eye—and they are all perfectly parallel. Made from teeth, not a knife.” She waited a moment to let the news sink in.

  “And you’ve checked the rest of the skeleton for marks?”

  “Yes.”

  “No marks?”

  “No tool marks. That’s correct.”

  He looked at her. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded to the scope. “Take another look. The bone is fractured just below the clavicle notch. Can you see the small dot at the tip of the fracture?”

  A second passed and she glanced impatiently at the clock.

  “Oh. Yeah, I see it. Kind of.”

  “I believe that’s a puncture mark from a carnivore, based on the size, my guess is a feral cat.”

  “So you’re saying multiple animals gnawed on this bone.”

  “That’s right. It’s understandable that someone untrained jumped to a stabbing scenario, but that isn’t the case with Jessica Miller.”

  The detective pulled away, frowning. “The DA’s got a full case built against the boyfriend. A restraining order issued the day before she went missing, a barn seven miles from where he lives—a barn that he admitted to hanging out in with her. Damn kid even collects knives for Christ’s sake.”

  Sadie didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the first time her analysis had changed the course of an investigation—whether law enforcement liked it or not.

  Arbuckle ran his fingers over the top of his bald head. “If she wasn’t murdered, what the hell happened?”

  “Well…” Her voice trailed off as she weighed how much to tell the detective at this point.

  “Well, what?”

  “There was something that stood out to me with this case.”

  “What?”

  “You are one hundred percent sure on her age and identity, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, then… so, her bones show a significant amount of deterioration. If it weren’t for the confirmation of her identity through the dental records, I would have pegged this skeleton to be in her thirties, maybe even older.”

  “So… okay… what does this tell you?”

  “Well, I found that interesting, right? So I sent one of her teeth off to the toxicologist for analysis.”

  “Toxicologist?”

  “That’s right. You see, with that much bone deterioration at such a young age, there’s a few things I look at—disease for one. But also—and my gut was tugging me in this direction—I consider drug use. Specifically, opioid use.”

  “You are shitting me.”

  “Nope. There are multiple studies indicating the adverse effects of opioid addiction on the body’s process of formation and destruction of bone tissue. A severe opioid addiction destroys bone tissue.”

  “And your toxicologist can confirm that by examining her teeth?”

  “Possibly, yes.”

  The detective’s gaze darted to her comp
uter. “Well? What did he say?”

  “I haven’t heard back yet, which is why I was waiting to call you back.” She picked up the phone. “If you can give me a minute…”

  The detective cocked a brow and moved to the doorway, just out of earshot as she made the call.

  “Adam here.”

  “Hey, it’s Sadie.” She turned her back and lowered her voice.

  “Well, good morning, sugar.”

  Sadie rolled her eyes. A die-hard shameless flirt, Adam was on his fifth year at KT as a crime lab technician, specializing in courting every single woman that crossed the front doors.

  “I need a favor.”

  A chuckle on the other end of the phone. “Meet me for coffee in the cafe and we’ll talk about it.”

  Sadie grinned at his perseverance. She’d lost count how many times the guy had asked her out, or tried to con her into a “meeting date” in the office cafe.

  “I can’t. Got a meeting in—crap—seven minutes. Hey, I sent a tooth over yesterday for a toxicology scan. Any way you can push that to the top of your list? Case number 7890, submitted by a Detective Arbuckle.”

  “Case number 7890…” his voice trailed off as Sadie heard the click, click, click of his keyboard.

  “Well, you’re in luck, sweetheart. It’s done, but I can’t release the results yet until Fischer has a look at them. You know how he is…”

  “Come on, just tell me…”

  “Hmm… how much is it worth to you?”

  She groaned. “Fine… I’ll bring you coffee every morning… for a week.”

  “This sounds interesting. What kind?”

  She clenched her jaw. “Whatever kind you would like, dear.”

  “The high dollar stuff. Not that syrup from the cafeteria.”

  “High dollar. Deal.”

  “And a blueberry muffin.”

  “Done.”

  “Annnd… a chocolate scone.”

  “Done. High dollar coffee, blueberry muffin, chocolate scone and a gallon of insulin to pull you out of your diabetic coma.”

  He laughed. “I don’t have diabetes.”

  “You will if you keep eating like that, Chubs. Now, what did the report say?”