good.”
“Galax is a small town. Word travels fast.”
“If she catches me, I’ll tell her—“
“The truth. It’s not always the easiest thing to admit, but it’s the easiest to remember.”
Hoyt shook hands with Pickett. He walked the investigators to their cars, then called to us.
“Dr. Zickafoose,” he said. “Mr. Pickett tells me you popped that body out of the ground like you were harvesting carrots.”
“That’s about all there is to it,” Abner said patiently, as if he were explaining the mechanics of osteoarthritic lipping to a college freshman. “I used the floor plan to locate the two bedrooms. The individual wasn’t at the first location, so I traced fly movement to the second. There she was.”
“She?” the sheriff said.
Abner explained how he had identified the sex. “I’ll be glad to do a more thorough examination when the coroner is done. I could assist, if you like. Is Leroy Sweeney still your man? We’ve worked a couple cases together.”
Hoyt shook his head. “Leroy’s dead and buried two years at least.”
“Dead?” Abner said, sounding shocked. “You sure?”
“I was a pall bearer.” Hoyt let the news sink in. “And I’m going to have to pass on your offer, considering past history with this department. We’ll be contacting Dr. Windsor-Smith down at the university. She’s a crackerjack young forensic expert. Emphasis on the young part.”
“Very subtle, Hoyt,” Abner said.
I stepped in front of Hoyt. “Are you saying you don’t want Doc’s help?”
“I’m telling you to get out of my way.” Hoyt pulled his leather belt higher on his gut. “Be glad you’re a vet, Boone. Or your ass would be sitting in my prowler, handcuffed to an O-ring. Now excuse me, I got to go play with the grownups for a while.”
Hoyt waited until I stepped aside and then called for a deputy. He put on a pair of sunglasses and pulled out a cellphone. What a pompous, officious, over-bearing, patronizing—
“Jackass,” Abner said.
“Sheriff!” I was going to find out who set the fire, and no expert, including the sheriff, Lamar, or that officious prick Mercer, was going to stop me. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I said, after I caught up to Hoyt. “Doc found the body, and you’re blowing him off?”
“Deputy,” Hoyt told Mercer, who was still shaking dust from his uniform, “escort Mr. Childress and Dr. Zickafoose to their vehicle.”
“What if I decide not to leave?” I said.
“Son,” Hoyt said, “after thirty-two years on the job, I got no sense of humor left, so I do not kid around. Go on, before I have to call your mama.”
Before I could dare him to do it, Mercer walked toward me, arms wide, like a human lariat.
“Keep walking,” Mercer said. He was on my heels the whole way to the Rover. “You heard the sheriff.”
“There’s no speed limit for walking.”
Mercer gave my shoulder a nudge.
I spun around. “You really don’t want to do that.”
Grinning, Mercer reached for the Taser on his belt. His face fell, though, as his hand groped his empty holster.
The Taser lay on the box springs, covered in plaster dust and soot.
“Oh no,” he said and bounded after it.
With Mercer out of the way, I confronted the sheriff again. “Are you going to arrest Eugene Loach now?”
“Eugene Loach?” Hoyt drew back. “What for? He didn’t start this fire.”
“Maybe he didn’t,” I said. “But he refused to render aid to a victim, and that victim died in the fire. That makes him a killer in my book.”
“You ain’t old enough to have a book, son.”
“It’s the law!”
“In this county, I am the law.”
“This whole situation stinks to high heaven.”
“You don’t like it?” Hoyt walked away. “Then don’t breathe through your nose.”
4
When she came home early and found me in the barn instead of bed, Mom screeched like a cat dropped down a well.
“Boone! What are you doing out here?”
“Charting the
“Galax is a small town. Word travels fast.”
“If she catches me, I’ll tell her—“
“The truth. It’s not always the easiest thing to admit, but it’s the easiest to remember.”
Hoyt shook hands with Pickett. He walked the investigators to their cars, then called to us.
“Dr. Zickafoose,” he said. “Mr. Pickett tells me you popped that body out of the ground like you were harvesting carrots.”
“That’s about all there is to it,” Abner said patiently, as if he were explaining the mechanics of osteoarthritic lipping to a college freshman. “I used the floor plan to locate the two bedrooms. The individual wasn’t at the first location, so I traced fly movement to the second. There she was.”
“She?” the sheriff said.
Abner explained how he had identified the sex. “I’ll be glad to do a more thorough examination when the coroner is done. I could assist, if you like. Is Leroy Sweeney still your man? We’ve worked a couple cases together.”
Hoyt shook his head. “Leroy’s dead and buried two years at least.”
“Dead?” Abner said, sounding shocked. “You sure?”
“I was a pall bearer.” Hoyt let the news sink in. “And I’m going to have to pass on your offer, considering past history with this department. We’ll be contacting Dr. Windsor-Smith down at the university. She’s a crackerjack young forensic expert. Emphasis on the young part.”
“Very subtle, Hoyt,” Abner said.
I stepped in front of Hoyt. “Are you saying you don’t want Doc’s help?”
“I’m telling you to get out of my way.” Hoyt pulled his leather belt higher on his gut. “Be glad you’re a vet, Boone. Or your ass would be sitting in my prowler, handcuffed to an O-ring. Now excuse me, I got to go play with the grownups for a while.”
Hoyt waited until I stepped aside and then called for a deputy. He put on a pair of sunglasses and pulled out a cellphone. What a pompous, officious, over-bearing, patronizing—
“Jackass,” Abner said.
“Sheriff!” I was going to find out who set the fire, and no expert, including the sheriff, Lamar, or that officious prick Mercer, was going to stop me. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I said, after I caught up to Hoyt. “Doc found the body, and you’re blowing him off?”
“Deputy,” Hoyt told Mercer, who was still shaking dust from his uniform, “escort Mr. Childress and Dr. Zickafoose to their vehicle.”
“What if I decide not to leave?” I said.
“Son,” Hoyt said, “after thirty-two years on the job, I got no sense of humor left, so I do not kid around. Go on, before I have to call your mama.”
Before I could dare him to do it, Mercer walked toward me, arms wide, like a human lariat.
“Keep walking,” Mercer said. He was on my heels the whole way to the Rover. “You heard the sheriff.”
“There’s no speed limit for walking.”
Mercer gave my shoulder a nudge.
I spun around. “You really don’t want to do that.”
Grinning, Mercer reached for the Taser on his belt. His face fell, though, as his hand groped his empty holster.
The Taser lay on the box springs, covered in plaster dust and soot.
“Oh no,” he said and bounded after it.
With Mercer out of the way, I confronted the sheriff again. “Are you going to arrest Eugene Loach now?”
“Eugene Loach?” Hoyt drew back. “What for? He didn’t start this fire.”
“Maybe he didn’t,” I said. “But he refused to render aid to a victim, and that victim died in the fire. That makes him a killer in my book.”
“You ain’t old enough to have a book, son.”
“It’s the law!”
“In this county, I am the law.”
“This whole situation stinks to high heaven.”
“You don’t like it?” Hoyt walked away. “Then don’t breathe through your nose.”
4
When she came home early and found me in the barn instead of bed, Mom screeched like a cat dropped down a well.
“Boone! What are you doing out here?”
“Charting the
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