He nodded, wrote something down in a small notebook. Didn’t they use iPads these days? “You have the agent’s info?”
She’d stuffed the card in her jeans pocket instead of returning it to her purse that lay next to the shears. “I do.” Ali handed him the card. He wrote down the information, then returned the card.
“I expect we’re going to be here most of the day, maybe tomorrow. Too early to say. You have a number where we can reach you if we have more questions?”
She gave him her new cell number, almost regretting the purchase.
“The detectives will call you. Most likely they’ll want to see you at the station in Fort Charlotte, so you’re free to go,” he told her.
“That’s it?” she asked. “They can’t speak to me now while I’m here?”
“Ricky,” Old Spice shouted, “over here.”
The deputy who had arrived first sauntered over like he had all the time in the world. “Yep. What’s up, Sharp?”
“Can we get a full interview of the witness now? She isn’t keen on going to headquarters.”
He looked at Ali. “You hiding something? You got a reason for not complying with Doctor Bruce?”
Ali could’ve sworn he’d called him Sharp. “No, I have nothing to hide. I’d like to get this over with, that’s all.”
He leaned back on his heels with his hands in his pockets. “I bet you do,” he smirked. “I’m not so sure you’re telling the truth.”
Enough was enough. She didn’t give a rat’s ass if he believed her. “Look, I am simply trying to make this property accessible, as I intend to live here. Do whatever you need to do, but don’t accuse me of a crime. Call Diamond Real Estate. Kimberly will vouch for me, and Lacey at Mariner’s Cottages. I rented a place from her last night.” Even though she had absolutely no reason to be defensive, she felt like she’d taken a hundred steps back into her former life as a kid not looking for trouble, yet somehow it had always seemed to find her.
The doctor closed his notebook. “Rick, don’t make this into something it’s not.” He turned to Alison. “I’m Dr. Ray Bruce, though people call me Sharp because I am.”
No modesty here, Ali thought. “Okay, Dr. Bruce, ask me what you need to know, and I’ll be more than happy to answer your questions, though I haven’t been formally questioned by whoever is supposed to be in authority here.”
“Ricky, can you help Juan?” Dr. Bruce asked, though from the tone of his voice, Ali was sure this wasn’t a simple request.
“I suppose. He ain’t too bright, if you want my opinion. Probably needs a pro like myself to show him the ropes.”
Ali didn’t comment, as she was sure Ricky’s opinion was completely opposite of the truth, and Dr. Bruce knew this, as well. As soon as the overzealous deputy was out of earshot, Dr. Bruce spoke. “Ricky is not representative of the department.” The doctor cleared his throat. “He’s related to the sheriff, which he believes entitles him to say or do whatever he pleases. Sorry about him, though I do have a couple of questions. Is there a reason you started digging in this particular area? Possibly you’ve heard rumors about the place?” His blue eyes never wavered from hers.
“I’ve only been in the area a couple days, so to answer your first question, I started clearing this area because it’s the most obvious place to start if you want to be able to turn off the main road and park a vehicle in what’s supposed to be a driveway. I did hear a couple rumors, but I just assumed that’s all they were. Rumors. Small towns, there’s always some kind of gossip being spread. Does this actually matter? Is there a connection I’m missing here?” She wanted to hear what the doctor had to say.
“Rumors only matter if they’re not,” he said. “You should probably hire someone to clear this out for you, or rent the equipment, though it will have to wait until we’ve completed our work.”
Ali thought about this. “Wouldn’t it make sense to clear the place out now, see if there are more bones?”
“Are you an officer of the law? Perhaps you have a legal background?”
“Neither. Just common sense, Doctor.”
“This bone”—he directed his gaze to the hole where the bone still lay—“has not been formally identified. It could be from a large animal. We won’t know this until we’ve done our jobs.”
“Look, I’m not a doctor and I don’t have any legal experience, but I excelled in science, and I know what a femur bone looks like. This isn’t from an animal. I know this, and I’m sure since you’re quite sharp, you know this as well. You have no right to insult my intelligence.”
“We have your information, Ms. Marshall. If we need to question you further, someone from the department will contact you.”
She stood there watching him. While she didn’t know the exact procedures this little island followed, she was pretty sure it wasn’t the norm for the forensics specialist to control the scene and ask questions. Before she left, she couldn’t help but say, “That rumor I heard—you never asked me what it was.”
He looked away from her. “As I said, rumors are only rumors unless they’re proven to be true. Then you have an actual fact.”
“Then you would know if the rumor I heard is true, right? I take it you’ve been around here for a while.”
“As I explained to you, Ms. Marshall, I only deal in facts.”
This so-called professional just became an obnoxious idiot.
“I get that, but just so you know, someone told me a little girl’s remains were found on this property. Maybe this bone belongs to her.” She picked up the shovel, along with the shears, turning her back on the doctor. She had questions, and she was going to get answers. Ali headed back to the Jeep, tossed the tools in the back, then headed to Fort Charlotte.
She did not like being treated like she was stupid. So much of her life was spent in defense mode, and she wasn’t going take anyone’s crap. Those days were gone. With this new start, as insane as it was, she’d never felt more alive in her life. Clueless where this bone discovery would lead, she wouldn’t alter her plans. Tomorrow, she’d give Kimberly a check; then she would return to her new house and start working to make it a home.
She reached the bridge at Matlacha Pass. A large fishing boat puttered its way through the water, heading into the gulf. As soon as the stern cleared, the old swing bridge closed. Ali waited a couple seconds just to make sure the bridge was secure when the car behind her honked. Startled, she pressed the accelerator too hard and swerved to the right of the bridge. Regaining control of the Jeep, she punched the accelerator down to the floor as soon as she felt her tires hit the pavement. Checking her rearview mirror, she saw the vehicle behind her was the same gray sedan she’d seen earlier in the parking lot at the beach.
She didn’t believe in coincidences. Slowing to the thirty-five miles per hour speed limit, she glanced in her mirror again to see if she recognized the person driving the sedan. Unable to identify the driver at this distance, she returned her attention to the road ahead, focusing on why she was making this trip to Fort Charlotte. Without knowing where the sheriff’s office was located, she’d have to stop and ask for an address. Or, she reminded herself, she could call with her cell and get the address that way.