“Well, thank you for your understanding. I…We’ll make it right, I promise you.” The chief realized he was almost babbling.
“It’s not a problem,” she said. “Here’s the thing. I’ve decided to take the remains back for reburial in our old family plot in Kentucky once the research is complete. That’s why I’m here. So you see, given the circumstances there’s no longer any reason to rebury Emmett in the original location, as I originally requested.”
“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved. It makes things simpler.”
“Say…is that coffee I smell?”
“Would you like a cup?”
“Thank you. Black, no sugar.”
The chief buzzed Shirley and put in the order, with a second for himself. There was a brief, awkward silence. “So…” he said. “How long have you been in town?”
“Not long, a few days. I wanted to get the lay of the land, so to speak, before making my presence known. I realize my letter made quite a stir, and I didn’t want to freak everyone out by storming into town like the Lone Ranger. You’re the first person, in fact, that I’ve introduced myself to.”
“Let me then welcome you most warmly to Roaring Fork.” The chief felt hugely relieved by all she was saying — and also by her friendly, easygoing manner. “We’re glad to have you. Where are you staying?”
“I was in Woody Creek, but I’m looking for a place in town. Having a little trouble finding something I can afford.”
“I’m afraid we’re in the high season. I wish I could give you some advice, but I think the town is pretty much full up.” He recalled the tumultuous, acrimonious press conference and wondered if things would stay that way.
The coffee arrived and Bowdree accepted it eagerly, took a sip. “Not your usual police station coffee, I must say.”
“I’m a bit of a coffee aficionado. We’ve got a coffee roaster in town who does a mean French roast.”
She took another big sip, then another. “I don’t want to keep you — I can see you’re busy. I just wanted to drop in to introduce myself and tell you about my plans for the remains.” She set down the cup. “And I also wondered if you could help me. Where exactly are the remains now, and how do I get there? I wanted to see them and meet the woman who’s doing the research.”
The chief explained, drawing her a little map of The Heights. “I’ll call Heights security,” he said. “Tell them you’re coming.”
“Thanks.” Captain Bowdree rose, once again impressing the chief with her stature. She was a damn fine- looking woman, supple and strong. “You’ve been really helpful.”
Morris rose again hastily and took her hand. “If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, please let me know.”
He watched her leave, feeling like the week from hell might finally be ending on a positive note. But then his gaze drifted to the corkboard, and the chaos of cards and strings on his desk, and the old feeling of dread returned. The week from hell, he realized, was far from over.
26
Corrie heard the clang of the ski shed door and paused in her work, wondering if Pendergast had returned. But instead of a dark-suited figure, a tall woman strode into view wearing fleece winter warm-ups and a big knitted woolen hat with dangling pom-poms.
“Corrie Swanson?” she said as she approached.
“That’s me.”
“Stacy Bowdree. I’d shake your hand, but I’ve got these coffees.” She handed Corrie a tall Starbucks cup. “Venti skinny latte with four shots, extra sugar. I had to guess.”
“Wow. You guessed right.” Corrie accepted the cup gratefully. “I had no idea you were coming to Roaring Fork. This is quite a surprise.”
“Well, here I am.”
“God, Stacy — can I call you that? — do I
“Don’t embarrass me!” Bowdree laughed, uncovered her own coffee, and took a generous swig. “If you want to thank someone, you can thank your friend Pendergast. He explained the whole situation to me, and what they’d done to you. I was only too happy to help.” She looked around. “Look at all these coffins. Which one’s Great-Great-Granddad Emmett?”
“Right over here.” Corrie led her to the man’s remains, spread out on an adjacent table. If she’d known the woman was coming, she could have tried to put them in some modicum of order. She hoped Emmett’s descendant would understand.
Corrie sipped her coffee a little nervously as Bowdree walked over, reached out, and gently picked up a piece of skull. “Jeez, that bear really did a number on him.”
Corrie started to say something, then stopped herself. Pendergast, with excellent reason, had advised her against telling anyone — anyone — of the real cause of death until she had finished her work.
“I think this work is fascinating,” said Bowdree, gently putting down the piece of skull. “So you really want to be a cop?”
Corrie laughed. She liked Bowdree immediately. “Well, I think I’d like to become an FBI agent, actually, with a specialty in forensic anthropology. Not a lab rat, but a field agent with special skills.”
“That’s great. I’ve sort of been thinking about law enforcement myself…I mean, it’s logical after a career in the military.”
“Are you out, then? No longer a captain?”
She smiled. “I’ll always be a captain, but yes, I’ve been discharged.” She paused. “Well, I’d better get a move on. I’ve got to find a cheaper place to stay if I’m going to hang around here much longer — the hotel I’m in now is bankrupting me.”
Corrie smiled. “I know the feeling.”
“I just wanted to introduce myself and tell you that I think what you’re doing here is great.” Bowdree turned to go.
“Just a minute.”
Bowdree turned back.
“Want to grab a coffee at Starbucks later?” She gestured with her cup. “I’d like to return the favor — if you don’t mind it being on the late side. I plan to make a long day of it — assuming I don’t freeze first.”
Bowdree’s face brightened. “That would be great. How does nine o’clock sound?”
“See you then.”
27
Mrs. Betty B. Kermode sipped a cup of Earl Grey tea and looked from the picture window of her living room over the Silver Queen Valley. Her house on the top of the ridge — the best lot in the entire development of The Heights — commanded a spectacular view, with the surrounding mountains rising up and up toward the Continental Divide and the towering peaks of Mount Elbert and Mount Massive, the highest and second highest peaks in Colorado, which were mere shadows at this hour of the night. The house itself was quite modest — despite what people assumed, she was not by nature a showy woman — one of the smallest in the development, in fact. It was more traditional than the others, as well, built in stone and cedar on a relatively intimate scale: none of this ultra-contemporary, postmodern style for her.
The window also afforded an excellent view of the equipment shed. It had been from this same window that, not quite two weeks before, Mrs. Kermode had seen the telltale light go on in the shed, very late at night.
