Page 17 of The Lost Bones

A beat of silence. “Muskrat fur? Are you sure?”

“I can share the crime lab’s report with you. Think that’s a coincidence?”

“I don’t know…” he confessed, sounding far off. “How many people wear muskrat fur? Probably a lot, right?”

“In April? It’s hardly the weather for it.”

“We should compare the samples. If we can tell that they came from the same source…”

“That would mean that Sophie and Courtney’s cases are related,” Mackenzie said, unsure if she wanted there to be a connection. “Did you come across Courtney’s name in your case? I don’t remember seeing it when I helped Austin last summer.”

“Not yet. I don’t think their schools or jobs overlapped. Maybe the fur is just a coincidence. Why would they be connected?”

Mackenzie didn’t have an answer. She hadn’t delved too deeply into Courtney’s life yet. “Sophie is Caucasian. Courtney is African American. Sophie is a Scorpio. Courtney is a Gemini.” She recalled how she hated all Geminis when she was in fourth grade because of her.

“Sophie is two years younger than Courtney,” Nick said.

Her phone began buzzing. “Nick, I’ll call you later.” She answered. “Hello.”

“Detective Price,” Peterson said on the line. “Sorry to bother you at this time, but you need to come to the farmland on the border with Riverview.”

“What is it?” She turned off the oven and picked up her leather jacket.

“We found Courtney.”

ELEVEN

If Lakemore was a town with a good heart but rotten luck, Riverview was a place where everything was rotten. It was filled with delinquents and dilapidated structures. A prime reminder to people of how low a town could sink if it wasn’t taken care of. Why a sense of community was important to keep the spirit alive.

The night was dark and wet. Thick woods surrounded the area, so dark and deep they blotted out any light. There was a red structure on the land behind a black fence with barbed wire atop. Once upon a time, it was a crime scene.

Mackenzie’s car floundered over the dirt road before joining the squad cars parked nearby. The area was illuminated by flashing emergency lights and headlights. She got out of the car, her feet making squelching sounds on the wet earth.

Peterson came up, holding a flashlight. “There are no streetlights in this area. Must be a pain to find the way.”

“I’ve been here before.” She followed the path. “They should put up some lights, though.”

“Land belonged to Riverview before Lakemore bought it,” Peterson replied. “They didn’t bother and then we didn’t.”

They navigated their way past uniformed cops trying to establish a perimeter. Peterson led her towards a bunch of teens in hoodies standing next to the barn, behind the crime-scene tape. “Kids from the community college come here for underage drinking. They were in for a surprise tonight.”

The teens wilted, fidgeting and looking nervous.

“How old are they?” Mackenzie asked.

“Some nineteen and others twenty,” one of the uniforms said, pointing at a pile of bottles on the ground. “We confiscated all this booze.”

She pressed her lips in a thin line, glaring at them. They looked apologetic. “Did you see anyone else here? Someone running away?”

One of the boys shook his head. “We got here and turned on the lights and…”

“Did you touch anything?”

“No!” They all shook their heads.

Mackenzie nodded. “All right. Take their statements and let them go. Consider this a warning.”

“But, ma’am…” the cop who had confiscated the bottles protested.