Page 5 of The Graveyard Girls

“The officer mentioned you’re a wildlife photographer?”

“Yeah. Focus on nature, the woods and mountains. Remote areas always intrigue me.”

“What were you doing here?” Ellie asked.

“Came to see the memorial,” he said. “Got some pictures then decided to take a walk.”

“You know the history of the land?”

“Sure do.” He gave a nod. “I grew up around here but moved away after that fire.” He indicated his scars.

Sympathy for him warred with her professional need to treat him as a suspect. “That must have been traumatic.”

“Yeah, lost my family in the blaze.” Rage seeped into his tone as he glanced at the memorial. “This memorial is a little too late and the people’s families weren’t even compensated.”

He definitely sounded bitter. “I’m surprised you’d come back.”

He stared across the land. “Curious to see if it was as bad as I remembered.”

“So you were taking pictures?”

“Yeah. I wandered past the gravestones by the church and went to take pics of the destruction. I wanted to see for myselfif what they say is true, that no wildlife or plants survived out here.”

Judging as far as Ellie could see, it looked more harsh than she’d imagined. “Go on.”

“Started getting dark so I headed back. It was really hard to see what was in front of me and I didn’t have a torch. I lost my footing when I stumbled over a rock.” His bony shoulders slumped slightly. “When I looked down, I thought I saw what looked like a bone protruding from the dirt.” His voice remained monotonous but there was an odd flicker in his wideset eyes as if finding the body excited him. “I assumed it was an animal that died out here, but then I saw what looked like a human hand. That’s when I called the sheriff’s office.”

“Did you touch the bones?”

He shook his head vehemently. “I raked away a little dirt and brush to see what was there. When I realized I was right, I stepped away.”

Ellie regarded his thin pale face, his loose-hanging clothes and tattered shoes. “We’re going to need your prints and to take casts of your boots.”

He glanced at her and she noticed his eyes were two different colors, one a hazel and the other a disturbing dull gray. It was called heterochromia. Some superstitions claimed the condition was a sign of evil.

His thin lips twitched. “You think I had something to do with this body?”

“Just following protocol, Mr. Black. Your prints are required in order to rule you out as a person of interest.”

His gaze settled on her, cold and serious, and sent a quiver up her spine. Sometimes the person who found the body was actually the killer. In order to throw off the police or out of morbid curiosity needing to relive the crime, a perpetrator often returned to the scene and inserted himself into the investigation.

She angled her head toward the sheriff. “Take the memory card from his camera. Maybe he caught something on it that will give us a lead.”

FIVE

Ellie turned back to Black. “Sir, we’ll need you to stick around town for a while. We might have more questions later.”

His eyes narrowed to slits, then a tiny smile twisted his lips, making the burn scars on his face redden. “Of course.”

Ellie gestured to the sheriff. “See that ERT prints him and collect a DNA swab.” She lowered her voice. “Also get a shoe print.” If Cord found footprints in the woods, they could compare.

“You don’t need to give me orders,” Sheriff Wallace growled. “I know how to run an investigation.”

Ellie barely resisted rolling her eyes. Gawd. Men and their egos.

Thankfully a car engine sounded, and she glanced back to see the medical examiner’s car approaching. “That’s our ME, Dr. Laney Whitefeather,” Ellie said. “I’ll show her to the scene.”

The sheriff stayed with Black and motioned one of the crime techs to come over, while she hurried to meet Laney. Dried leaves crackled beneath her boots, the scent of death suffusing the air as the wind picked up. Above storm clouds gathered, heavy and gray, making it urgent they recover the body andprocess the scene before the clouds unleashed rain and washed away evidence.