Nora Kelly asked her two assistants, Salazar and Adelsky, to re-cover the quads.

“I have a few questions for you and Dr. Benton,” Corrie said. “If I may?”

“Let’s have a seat.”

They walked toward the headquarters tent and settled in director’s chairs set out under a tarp.

Corrie took out a notebook and pen. “Just to confirm, you’ve identified the three bodies at the two more distant sites, two adult males and one female child, and in the midden heap you’ve found three adult skulls, again two male and one female, as yet unidentified.”

Dr. Kelly nodded.

“You mentioned nine individuals died in this camp, out of eleven. What happened to the other two?”

“A man named Boardman escaped and managed to get to the Donner’s camp, and died there. Another man, Chears, was saved, but he died soon after returning to civilization. Of the nine individuals left, we’ve found six and identified three.”

“Do you expect to find the other three in this midden?”

“We’re still excavating the rear section, so it’s a little early to say. I wouldn’t be surprised if most of the remains are there. We might find one or two additional outliers there, or perhaps at the site of the shelter.”

“The shelter?”

“Yes. They built a rude shelter out of wood from the wagons, and inside was a hearth. Our magnetometer survey suggests it’s in that area gridded out beyond the midden heap, but we can’t be sure until we open it up.”

“So Parkin’s remains might be there?”

“It’s a possibility. There’s still an adult male we have not located yet.”

Corrie made some notes. “So please tell me: how did this excavation originate?”

“Clive can give you the background.”

Benton then proceeded to tell, in exhausting length, the story of how he’d spent years searching for Tamzene Donner’s journal; how he’d found it; and how he’d gone to Nora Kelly and the Institute and convinced them to look for the site. Kelly then took over and explained how the excavation had reached this point and what their plans were, going forward. It was all Corrie could do to keep up with the flow of information. Everything seemed aboveboard, with the exception of Benton’s theft of the journal—but that was out of her bailiwick and frankly, in his place, she would probably have done the same, at least back in her scofflaw days.

She asked a few more general questions and received equally general answers. She could find nothing the slightest bit suspicious; nothing, at least on the surface, to tie the expedition to her own investigation. She wondered how Morwood would react when she briefed him.

She shut her notebook and looked at her watch. “I’ve gotten what I need for now. I’d better ride back to town while it’s still early. I want to thank you for your cooperation.”

She rose and Kelly did likewise. “If you do identify Parkin,” Corrie told her, “please remember to let me know. And be careful—there may be no connection, but you never know, and my case does involve a homicide and a probable kidnapping. So be on your guard.”

The look of relief on Nora Kelly’s face as she shook her hand goodbye was unmistakable.

23

May 11

THE FOLLOWING DAY dawned clear, and the night had been cloudless, allowing Nora and the rest an excellent view of the comet Skip had reminded her of before she set off. Around noon, however, thunderheads began piling up over the surrounding peaks. Nora’s first task was to open the quad containing the lower half of Samantha Carville’s body. After removing the layer of grassy turf on top and putting it aside, she and Clive began, using paintbrushes and bamboo picks in addition to the ever-present whisks, working with agonizing slowness down through the soil to the level of the bones. As before, the dirt was piled in a tray to be sifted and floated later.

Working even a shallow quad like this was a lesson in patience. Nora was used to it, but Clive was sweating and had a tendency to hurry. While they worked on the Carville quads, Salazar and Adelsky were opening another quad at the edge of the midden heap.

“Easy there, Clive. Those bones aren’t going anywhere.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Curiosity makes me impatient. Does it do that to you?”

“Yes. I had to learn to slow down—just like you need to.”

Clive laughed and turned his blue eyes on her. “We seem to have a lot in common, you and me.”

Nora said nothing, but Skip’s parting words came to her mind unbidden. Opening herself to new people was not being disloyal to Bill. She needed to move past him and get on with her life. She had already dated a couple of losers, but Clive was certainly no loser: smart, a Stanford PhD—but most important for her, someone with real intellectual passions. And he was obviously interested in her.

She found herself coloring at this train of thought and the guilt that it caused in her, and she quickly bent her head to conceal it and continue digging.

“Got something,” Clive said.

Nora looked over. It was clearly the leading edge of a small bone.

“I’ll take over, if you don’t mind.” This had become their informal working arrangement, Clive turning over the delicate labor to Nora.

She moved to the spot and began brushing away the dirt, exposing more of the bone, while Clive watched. She could feel his breath on her hair. “Looks like the left patella.”

“That’s the knee bone, right?”

“Right.”

Working down, Nora exposed the bottom of the femur and the top of the tibia, along with a stray button and a scrap of cotton, which she placed in artifact envelopes with tweezers. As she worked down the leg toward the foot, a ragged row of buttons appeared, along with some withered scraps of leather—the girl’s tiny button-down boot. Leaving it in situ, Nora worked around it, uncovering the entire left leg. When it was fully exposed, she took a series of photos.

Meanwhile, Clive moved over and began working the opposite side of the quad, loosening the surface with the bamboo pick and gently working the dirt off with the whisk. Nora felt a certain unease as he deepened his half of the quad, exposing more and more of the right leg.

“Oh boy. Here’s something else,” Clive said, backing away for Nora to look.

It was the right femur. Nora brushed the soil from around what turned out to be a ragged end of bone. Its termination was a splintered mess and there was nothing below. She placed a magnifying stand over it. Deep chop marks from butchering leapt into view.

There was a silence, interrupted by a sound of distant thunder.

“I’ll be damned,” said Clive. “The legend is true, after all.”

Nora sat back and took a deep breath. “The leg’s been chopped off with something crude, like a hatchet, right at the knee.”

“I can’t believe it. The historical record…” Clive’s voice trailed off.

There was a silence.

“What do you think?” Nora asked. “Should we tell the team? With Maggie riling people up with her ghost stories, maybe we should keep quiet.”

Clive stroked his incipient beard. “They already know we’ve found the girl’s remains. They’re going to ask.”