They waited several minutes for Mike.
“What’s keeping him?” asked Jin.
“He’s getting the rope,” said Diane.
“Oh, yeah. Isn’t it heavy carrying around all that rope?”
“Can be, but it’s good to have it when you need it.”
Finally Mike came through, pulling Jin’s duffel bag and his backpack with his coils of rope tied to it.
“Why don’t MacGregor and Jin carry the body bag?” Mike said to Diane. “I can take the crime scene kit and Jin’s backpack. Neva can carry your pack, and you can carry the duffel bag.”
Diane nodded in agreement. She and Mike were the most experienced cavers, and he had given the heaviest loads to himself and her.
“Can’t believe there’s a dead body in this bag,” said MacGregor. “You don’t think it’s anybody we know, do you?” His voice had a sudden tone of concern in it.
Diane shook her head. “No, this guy’s been here a long time.”
It took them three times as long to get out of the cave as it had to get in, loaded down as they were. Several times they had to stop and negotiate through squeezes, taking off their load and pulling it behind them or pushing it in front of them.
A loaded caravan through a cave wasn’t as much fun as simple caving. Diane felt relieved when they first emerged into the outdoors, but she quickly wished she were back in the cave. It was hot, especially compared to the cool cave. With her long-sleeved caving attire, it wouldn’t take long to get uncomfortably hot. But there was the deputy to talk to first.
He sat on the bumper of his Lumpkin County patrol car with his arms folded in a manner that Diane had seen young children do when they were in full pout mode. Dressed in navy-blue pants and a short-sleeved shirt, the deputy looked to be in his early forties and had wavy blond hair and the beginnings of a potbelly.
“You know, I have other things to do than sit around here all day. Which one of you is Diane Fallon?” His gaze took in all of them, as if one of the males might have been named Diane.
“I’m Diane Fallon.”
“You could have come out and signed this paper and I could have been on my way.”
“I’m sorry, Deputy”-she looked at his nameplate above his shirt pocket-“Deputy Singer. I would have if I could. But I’m here now and I’ll be glad to sign the coroner’s papers.” Diane smiled at him, hoping she wasn’t showing the amusement she felt at listening to him complain.
The deputy shoved some wrinkled papers at her.
“Got a pen?” asked Diane.
The deputy breathed a heavy sigh and handed her the pen from his shirt pocket.
Diane took the papers and laid them out on the hood of his car.
“Now just a minute.” The deputy sprang toward his car and grabbed a notebook from the backseat. “Use this. I don’t want you scratching my car.”
As she wrote, Deputy Singer looked over her shoulder and told her what the sheriff was going to think of all this. His breath smelled of garlic and onions.
Mike opened the back of his SUV, took soft drinks from his cooler and passed them around, handing the deputy a Coke. Deputy Singer took it and muttered a thanks and went on with his harangue between sips. Diane had a feeling he’d been mentally rehearsing it while he was waiting. Mike gave her a 7-UP and popped the tab for her. It was cold and felt good going down her throat.
Diane took several long gulps before retuning her attention to the paperwork. She glanced up and saw Mike leaning against his vehicle with an arm around Neva’s neck, sharing a Coke with her, the two of them sporting amused expressions as they watched her deal with the deputy.
“Yes, sirree, Sheriff Burns is going to have a talk with Pilgrim. I don’t know what he was thinking, giving all this to Rosewood, like we can’t take care of our own. Who does Rosewood think they are anyway? Atlanta? Too big for your britches, I’d say.”
Diane let the deputy get the ire out of his system. She’d learned from her former boss, who was a career diplomat, that sometimes letting people have their say defused their hard feelings.
“I’m sure he thought the sheriff had more important things to do than fool with some incident that happened maybe fifty or sixty years ago,” said Diane.
“Fifty or sixty years ago? That long, huh? You’re right about that. Probably don’t even have a next of kin still living. Just be a waste of time. I guess ol’ Pilgrim thought you all had the time to waste, with your fancy equipment doing everything for you.”
“I imagine so.” Diane smiled and handed him the papers. “Tell Sheriff Burns I’ll give him a call, and thank you for waiting for us. I know it was an inconvenience, but I appreciate it.”
“Just doing my job. It’s what they pay me for.” He slumped toward his patrol car, got in, and drove off with a spin of his wheels, kicking a cloud of dirt and grass on them.
Chapter 6
“Pleasant fellow,” Neva said, turning to MacGregor. “Bet you had a good time with him out here, Mac.”
“Oh, that’s just him. My cousin said he was like that as a kid-like everything puts him out. I tried to get him in a good mood for you guys, but I guess I failed.”
Diane couldn’t suppress a chuckle; neither could Mike or Neva. Diane looked at her watch. It was almost three o’clock. If she hurried she’d have time for an extra-long soak in the tub before her date with Frank. She and the others got their clean clothes out of the car. The guys went behind Mike’s SUV to change.
Dick MacGregor had built a blind just into the woods for Neva and Diane to change behind. The blind was at the base of a hillside with thick woods all around, and it included a bench. For all his annoying habits-talking incessantly, humming
Diane sat down on the bench, pulled off her boots and wiggled her freed toes. Neva sat down beside her and began unlacing hers.
“This was certainly an eventful caving trip.” Neva kneaded her foot before she took off her jeans and put on a fresh pair. She slipped her bare feet into running shoes that didn’t look much cleaner than her caving boots. “How are you doing-you know, after the almost fall?”
“A little sore.” Diane stretched her muscles, bending down so that her head touched her ankles and stretching her back. It felt good.
“That had to be scary,” said Neva.
Diane sat up. “It was. But when something like that happens, as you know, you put all your energies into hanging on. I was lucky that Mike was there to throw me a rope.”
“How do you get rid of the fear?”
“You don’t. It’s kind of like pain-you just work through it.” Neva was silent for a moment, as if contemplating what Diane said. “You appear to be working through your fear of caving pretty well,” said Diane.
Neva nodded and smiled. “Mike’s been a big help. He’s a really great guy, although. . ” She smiled and lowered her voice, as if he might be lurking around listening. “Sometimes he’s a little stuffy.”
Diane was surprised. “Mike, stuffy? How?”
Neva took off her dirty shirt and slipped a clean tee over her head. “He’s a vegetarian and mostly likes classical music. And when he starts talking about geology. . I mean, he thinks folded rocks are so interesting. I never knew you could fold rocks, but Georgia apparently has a lot of them.”
“I knew he liked classical music. He used to date a violinist in a string quartet.” Diane slipped on a pair of clean blue jeans.
“Did he? One thing I like about Mike is that he never talks about his ex-girlfriends, and he’s apparently had a lot.”
“Oh?”
