The First Death (Columbia River, #4)(32)

Dr. Peres examined the dirt under the skull. “There’s no hair immediately visible. We’ll sift for it. But it’s possible the skull was moved a bit from its original place. I’m glad we’re on a flat piece of ground. Gravity and weather and animals can really spread out a scene when it’s on a slope.”

She moved some more dirt and nodded to herself. “This skull isn’t where I’d expect it based on the position of the rest of the bones for these particular remains. The bones have been moved in some way. Animals maybe.”

“Could a person have moved them?” asked Evan.

“Sure,” the doctor said with a one-shoulder shrug. “I don’t know why someone would, though.”

“Dr. Peres.” There was tension in the first tech’s voice. “There’s another skull under this one’s ribs.”

The doctor set the small skull back in the dirt and immediately joined the tech. “Photos,” she ordered, taking the sketch pad from the photographer. Dr. Peres scowled at the new skull and added details to the sketch as the photographer’s camera rapidly clicked. “It’s another adult female.”

Rowan and the two detectives exchanged glances.

There are more bodies?

“Is this a dumping ground?” Evan asked under his breath.

Rowan looked back at the small skull.

Malcolm?





17


Malcolm, twenty-five years ago

Rowan and Malcolm were in the shed when he shouted for them to put on the blindfolds. Unprepared, they scrambled to do as he said. “Why?” Rowan whispered.

Malcolm didn’t reply because he was also confused, dread filling every muscle. The man had already run them around that day, and it wasn’t time for dinner yet. The sun was high in the sky, and the shed was roasting. He usually left them alone at that time of day.

“I’m so tired.”

“Shhhh,” Malcolm told her, kneeling in his corner.

The locks rattled and clicked, and the hinges squeaked as he opened the door. “You. Boy. With me.” He stepped inside, and Malcolm felt the floor dip.

Malcolm leaped to his feet, and the man grabbed his arm, leading him out of the shed. The door slammed, and he fastened the locks.

Malcolm was relieved Rowan was inside, because now he knew it wouldn’t be a competition, and the man wouldn’t make him hurt her.

But what will he do to me?

They walked for several minutes, the man’s hand still on Malcolm’s arm, and when Malcolm’s blindfold shifted the tiniest bit, he didn’t adjust it. Now he could see some of the ground and was less likely to trip.

Many minutes later, Malcolm stood silently inside another building. The temperature was comfortable, and he could see gold-and-orange linoleum. Anger flooded him. Their shed was too hot, and the floors gave them splinters, while this place was minutes away with normal floors and air-conditioning.

Why are we kept like animals?

Malcolm’s legs ached, and he shifted his balance from foot to foot, wondering how long he’d been standing in the cool room. Too long. But the man had told him not to move, so he obeyed. He could hear the man walking around the room, occasionally muttering something.

Something scraped the floor—maybe a chair—and Malcolm had the impression the man had sat down directly in front of him. It was silent for a long moment, so Malcolm waited.

“How would you like it if your sister goes home?” the man asked.

Shock froze Malcolm’s tongue. He hadn’t expected the man to say that. His mind struggled to understand . . . he was going to free them?

But he’d said Rowan . . . not both of them.

“Answer me, boy. Do not disrespect me like this. Speak clearly and quickly when someone asks you a question.”

“I would like that, sir.” Malcolm didn’t dare ask for clarification.

“I’m thinking about sending her home. But you would have to be a better boy. You need to listen better. Move faster.”

Malcolm’s heart sank, and he tried not to cry.

Rowan gets to go home. I have to stay.

But Rowan needed to leave. She should get out of there. Malcolm worried about her health.

“Or you both could stay,” the man said. “I haven’t made a decision. The problem is I don’t really have enough food for both of you, so meals will have to be smaller if you both stay.”

Malcolm caught his breath. Rowan and he could stay together.

I’m being selfish. She needs more food. She’s not going to last on the little food he gives us.

“Take off your blindfold, boy.”

Malcolm didn’t move; was it a trick?

“I just said you need to be a better boy. Did you forget that already?” he snarled. “Take off the blindfold.”

Malcolm ripped it off and blinked in the light.

And saw the man for the first time.

The man had a brown beard and sat six feet away, staring at him. Malcolm studied the face of the person who had made their lives hell for days. He was a large man, probably close to the age of their dad, and he wore a tank top and denim shorts with hiking boots. He studied Malcolm with direct, cold eyes.

I feel like a caged animal at the zoo.

They were in a small building, and it almost felt like a trailer, but it was wider and longer. There were a sink, cupboards, and a refrigerator on one side and a small table with chairs on the other. At the far end was a partially open door, and he saw a bed in the room beyond.