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She had battery-powered mobile lights set up carefully around the area she worked on. Luckily, she wasn’t bothered by enclosed spaces, because this was tight and dark and damp. Not the best conditions for any kind of anthropology, particularly forensic. It made the work challenging. Just the way she liked it.

She took pictures of the new segment she’d just moved to, documenting everything within an inch of its life. If she was right, and these bones were older—too old to be murders perpetrated by the current suspect—there was absolutely no room for error.

Certainly no room to be distracted byexes. Even if he was her one and only ex.

The more she excavated in the cave, the more space to bring in more and better light. And she’d certainly done her fair share of work so far. It was alarming and depressing how much work was left to do. Not because she minded the work, but because someone had used this place as their own personal body dumping grounds. But not justdumping. People had been carefully buried in secret here.

Brooke set the camera aside, got some tools to start excavating the next square. She crouched and started to work but noticed something kind of odd next to her foot.

She turned her head, so the lamp on her helmet focused in on it. Not bone. Not cave. It could be animal, but... She leaned in closer. It looked an awful lot like the corner of a book.

She reached out and touched it. Felt like a book too. It was shoved in between two rock formations. She was about to pull it out, but looked down and saw how dirty her gloves were. Not a problem with bones and remains buried deep in the cave floor, but paper...

It clearly hadn’t been there long because paper would have a lot more damage if it had been left there foryears. Maybe it would be some kind of clue to incriminate Jen Rogers.

Or whoever else was killing people and burying them down here.

“Thomas?” She was on a first-name basis with the detectives now that she’d spent so much time with them, and Thomas Hart happened to be her partner today. “Do you have a fresh set of gloves?” Hers were by her equipment and she wanted to retrieve this book as carefully and quickly as possible.

“Sure.” He held them out to her and she took them. She switched her gloves. Then, with caution, she pulled the book from the crevice it had been shoved into without tearing anything or dragging it in the wet sediment of the ground more than necessary.

Once freed, she looked at it, opened the cover. “It’s... a scrapbook.”

Thomas was by her side so fast that Brooke almost bobbled the book. Like the wordscrapbookhad jolted through him.

“Not just any scrapbook,” he said, looking down over her shoulder. “I think that’s the scrapbook that was stolen from the police department last month when we first discovered the remains on the Brink property.”

Last month. She could tell this meant a lot to the detective, but it didn’t really mean anything toherinvestigation if it didn’t involve the potential for a second murderer... even if shewascurious.

“I don’t have anything to pack up this kind of material carefully, but we need to be very gentle. If it’s been down here for a whole month in these kinds of conditions, that isn’t good for any of the material in a scrapbook. We should get it out of here and consult an archivist. Someone who would know how best to handle it, if it’s as old as it looks, and make sure we’re preserving it correctly.”

Hart looked at her with a slight frown. “Good point.” Then he hesitated. Thomas was usually calm, but she couldfeelthe tension the scrapbook brought out in him. It was part of his investigation and he wanted to look at it now rather than later.

“If you put some gloves on, you can take it back to the station right now. I’m fine on my own here for a bit.”

He shook his head. “Brooke, I wouldn’t leaveanyonein a mass grave all by themselves, even if studying mass gravesisyour job.”

Well, mass graves hadn’t been her job before. This was a first. But she could detect the impatience waving off him and didn’t like to let other people’s uncomfortable feelings tolinger. She’d learned a long time ago to make certain she wasn’t a burden to anyone else. A problem.

Life worked better that way.

“Why don’t we break for lunch? You can go back to the station and get that squared away, and I’ll grab something to eat and meet you there when I’m done.”

He smiled at her. “I appreciate it. Want to leave this all set up? I’ll have one of the guys park here while we’re gone.”

Brooke looked around. She’d had a solid two hours of work, but she was definitely in the middle of things. Still, it would be good to take a break, get her head on straight.

She grabbed a few of the evidence bags and boxes she’d filled. “That’ll be fine. I’ll send these back to the lab while we’re at it.” It was still work, and maybe some fresh air would help her refocus.

They worked in a comfortable quiet to turn off the lights and then take what she needed out into the bright light of day. Hart was definitely distracted by the discovery of the scrapbook, and Brooke was well aware thewholecase wasn’t her business. Her business was to uncover the remains, study them, test them, identify and form conclusions about them.

Still...

“This scrapbook... It belonged to Jen Rogers?”

Thomas shook his head as she carefully placed the book in his patrol car. “No. It’s kind of a long story. You know Chloe Brink, right?”

Chloe was a police officer, and it had been on her and her brother’s property the first skeletal remains had been found. Brooke had met her a few times, since she was involved with the Hudsons. “Yes.”