With Jack’s crutches, his unbending leg and Kate’s bare feet, it made slow going in the mud. When they got out of the hole, Kate sat down and cleaned her hands on the grass. Jack sat beside her.
They were both staring at the skulls and bones embedded in the tree roots. It was an eerie sight. The tree seemed to own the bones, to hug them, caress them...protect them. If someone tried to remove them, the tree looked as though it would swallow them whole.
Sara came to stand behind them, her ca
mera constantly clicking. She paused only to change batteries. “Daryl is on his way.” In the next second they heard a siren in the distance. “Damn him! He’ll have the whole town coming to see what’s going on.”
“Who were they?” Kate whispered, her eyes on the bones.
“No idea,” Jack said. “It looks like the tree was planted on top of—of them.”
Sara sat down beside Kate and held out her camera. “Look at this.” She had enlarged the playback on the screen to show the skull that had been tangled in Kate’s hair. “Is that what I think it is?”
Jack took the camera and he and Kate put their heads together to look at it. “There’s a hole,” Kate said.
“In the side of the skull. Looks like it was hit with something,” Jack said.
“Could have been the tree,” Kate said.
Sara and Jack looked at her. None of them believed that.
Jack frowned. “The two of you aren’t going to turn into scream queens, are you?” He held up the camera. “If so, quick! Show me where the video is so I can put you on YouTube.”
“Not funny,” Sara said. The siren could be heard at the front of the house and was then turned off. “Sheriff’s here.”
Kate got up and helped Jack with his muddy crutches, and they walked to the front.
A dark-green-and-white car, Broward County Sheriff’s Department, Lachlan, Florida, painted on the side, was parked beside Jack’s old truck.
A man wearing a tuxedo got out. He was fiftyish, medium height, sparse hair, a belly. He was frowning so deep his face was scrunched up. “I’m supposed to be in Miami in thirty minutes. This better be good.” His voice was a growl and it was aimed at Sara.
“It is,” Sara said. “Come and look.”
As he walked past Jack, he said, “You managing to stay sober, Wyatt?”
Kate saw Jack’s face turn to such rage that he looked like he might hit the sheriff. She stepped between them. “Hi! I’m Kate, Sara’s niece. It was so kind of you to come here to see what we found.” She slipped her arm through his tux sleeve. “You make me feel like we’re going to a party.”
It took the man a moment to change moods, but he smiled at her and put his hand over hers. “You must be Randal Medlar’s daughter.”
“I am.” She was startled at hearing the name, but she smiled as warmly as she could manage. When they reached the edge of the hole, she dropped his arm.
Sara was looking as though she might start laughing at what Kate had done. But Jack was glowering like a villain in an action movie.
“There’s the problem.” Kate motioned toward the tall tree roots.
Daryl stared at it, seeming to be unsure of what he was seeing. But after a moment, he looked at Sara. “Somebody planted a tree over an old burial ground. Happens all the time. I’ll send the coroner over tomorrow to remove the bones and rebury them somewhere.” He turned away as though he meant to leave.
“One of the skulls has a hole in it,” Sara said. “Like someone was hit over the head with a weapon.”
“Sara.” The man sounded as though he was talking to a child. “You aren’t trying to make this into one of those books you write, are you? Love Under the Tree Roots. Something like that?” His face was a smirk.
Jack, his anger now under control, was standing by Sara. When she started to speak, he clamped a hand onto her shoulder.
The sheriff straightened his cuffs and looked back at Kate. “I think I should introduce myself. I’m Sheriff Daryl Flynn. My mother was a Kirkwood.”
Kate could tell this meant something locally. “Like Tayla,” she said. “I work for her.”
“She’s my mother’s cousin and she’s been good for this town. You’re the girl that Alastair Stewart asked out, aren’t you?”