That was true enough, Adam thought. “You said the girl’s name
is Melissa Katzen?”
“That’s right. It was a woman with a real whispery voice who
said it was Melissa. She didn’t want to tell who she was. She said
everyone believed at the time that Melissa was going to elope right
after high school graduation. So when she up and was just gone,
everyone figured she’d done it. But she thinks now, what with the
skeleton, that Melissa didn’t go anywhere.”
“Who was the boyfriend?”Adam asked.
“No one knew, since Melissa wouldn’t tell anyone. Her folks didn’t
know what to think after she was gone. They didn’t know about
any elopement talk, came as a shock to them. I’m thinking that
maybe one of Melissa’s family called in this tip, or a friend and that
friend is afraid she’s in danger if she tells us who she is. Now, if that
skeleton is Melissa Katzen, then she didn’t elope. She stayed right
here and got herself murdered.”
“Maybe,” Becca said, “she decided she didn’t want to elope after
all and the boy killed her.”
“Could be,” said Sheriff Gaffney, shaking his head. “A bad way
to end up.”
He got no argument.
The sheriff adjusted his thick leather belt that was digging into
his belly and said on a sigh, “As the years passed, most folk just forgot
about her, figured she was in another state with six kids now.
And maybe she is. We’ll find out. We’re talking to all the people
who remember her, went to school with her, things like that.”
“You don’t have any idea who called this in, Sheriff?”
“Nope. Mrs. Ella took the call, said it sounded like someone
with a doughnut in her mouth. Mrs. Ella believes it’s a relative, or
a chicken-shit friend.”
“You’ll do DNA tests now?”
“As soon as we can locate Melissa’s parents and see if they have
anything of hers we could use to get her DNA to match against
what they have in the bones. It’s going to take a while. Science–
all this newfangled stuff–it’s all iffy as far as I’m concerned. Just
look at how poor OJ. was nearly sent away because of all that flaky
so-called DNA evidence. But the jury was smart. They didn’t believe
any of that stuff for a minute. Well, it’s something to do. We’ll
know in a couple of weeks.”
“Sheriff,” Becca said mildly,”DNA is the most scientifically solid
tool that law enforcement has going for it today. It’s not flaky at all.
It will clear innocent people and, hopefully, in most cases, put
monsters in jail.”
“So you think, Ms. Powell, but you force me to tell you that
yours is an Uninformed Opinion. Mrs. Ella doesn’t like all this
fancy stuff, either. But she thinks it’s real possible that the skeleton
is poor little Melissa, even though she remembers Melissa as being
all sorts of shy and sweet and so quiet you’d have thought her a little
ghost. Who’d want to kill a sweet kid like that? Even old Jacob
Marley, who didn’t like anybody.”
Adam shook his head. “I don’t know, Sheriff. I go for the
boyfriend. Hey, at least there’s something to go on now. Won’t you
come in?”
“Nah. I just wanted to fill in you and Ms. Powell. I gotta go talk
to the power company, hear they accidentally cut a sewage pipe.
That’d be no good. You pray the wind doesn’t blow in this direction.
Now, Mr. Carruthers, you going to hang around with Ms.
Powell much longer?”
“Oh yeah,” Adam said easily, looking over at Becca, who hadn’t
said a single word since Sheriff Gaffney, button sewn back on, bemoaned
poor O.J.’s treatment. “She’s still real jittery, Sheriff, jumps
whenever there’s a sound in this old house. You know how women
are–so sensitive it makes a man want to coddle them until the
sun’s shining again.”
“That was well said, Mr. Carruthers. We got us one of our perfect
summer days. Just smell the air. All salty ocean and wildflowers,
and that sun smell. Nothing like it.
“Ah, here’s Tyler and little Sam. Good morning. Just running
down possibilities on Ms. Powell’s skeleton. Could have been