Benton broke in. “As a Donner Party descendant, I agree with Nora. I wouldn’t like to see my ancestor’s remains locked up indefinitely as evidence.”

“If they’re needed in the future,” Kelly added, “the FBI will always have access.”

Corrie thought for a moment. “Are you familiar with the term ‘chain of custody’? If the bones are ever to be used as evidence, we have to be able to document who had access to them and when.”

“That’s not a problem. Since these bones are to be DNA tested, they’ll be protected from contamination. Part of the DNA testing protocol is maintaining a strict chain of custody.”

Corrie thought about it for a moment. “Very well. As soon as the coroner removes the body, you can collect the bones.”

“Thank you.”

Corrie finished up her notes while the coroner and the two Forest Service officers bagged the body, draped it over a horse, and tied it down. They departed, along with the sheriff and his deputy.

Corrie turned to Kelly. “Feel free to collect the bones.”

She watched as the team of archaeologists began scouring the area, picking up every last fragment of bone with rubber-tipped tweezers. The bits and pieces went into labeled Ziploc bags that in turn went into hard plastic cases, meticulously documented. Many bones were still in Peel’s saddlebags, and those appeared to have survived the fall better than the others. She had to admit that an FBI evidence response team could not have done a better job.

By the time the team had finished, it was late afternoon. They switchbacked up the cliff, the wrangler brought over their horses, and they rode back to camp as the sun cast a golden glow over the surrounding peaks.

32

May 15

THE NEXT AFTERNOON, in the dig site’s HQ tent, Nora stared at a long plastic table on which a black piece of velvet had been laid. Spread out on the velvet were all the bones recovered from the site of Peel’s death, carefully cataloged and arranged. She and her assistants had been meticulous in their recovery work, combing over the site where Peel had fallen, and she was confident they had retrieved all the bones he’d stolen. Many of them had been damaged in the fall, but over the course of the morning the team had managed to identify and reassemble each one from their database of photographs. The specialized archaeological software they used to curate the excavation had sped up the task considerably.

“This is disturbing,” said Clive, standing next to her. “To say the least.”

Nora could only shake her head. “When that FBI agent hears about this…”

“Do you think we missed something at the base of the cliffs?” he asked.

“I’m sure we got every last piece.”

“So he buried it somewhere else?”

“Looks that way. But why?”

A voice outside interrupted their conversation. “May I?”

Oh God, Nora thought: here she was, as if on cue. To Nora’s annoyance, Agent Swanson had set up her tent right next to the main camp and showed every intention of extending her stay.

“Come in,” said Nora.

The FBI agent stepped inside. “Are these the bones found with Peel?”

Nora sighed. Better to just get it over with.

“They are,” she said slowly. “And it seems we have a problem.”

The agent pulled out her notebook. “Yes?”

“We’re missing a skull and, apparently, some vertebrae.”

“Whose remains?”

“Parkin’s.”

At this, she saw a look of surprise in the agent’s eyes, quickly turning into a gleam of—what? Eagerness.

“Are you sure it’s the Parkin skull? Albert Parkin?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re certain it wasn’t overlooked at the scene of the fall?”

“Yes.”

“And nothing else is missing?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

The agent took a moment to write in her notebook.

Clive said, “We can only assume Peel buried that skull somewhere else before he fell.”

Swanson turned to Nora. “Is that also what you think?”

“I don’t know,” Nora said. “It seems odd Peel would bury a partial body somewhere else. But the whole thing’s odd. If he was so worried about getting them a proper Christian burial, why would he take them up into the mountains instead of bringing them back to hallowed ground?”

Clive shook his head. “He was crazy, that’s why. I mean, think about it: Samantha Carville’s remains were the most properly buried of any of the corpses we’d found. And he took them anyway.”

Nora found Corrie looking at her with a penetrating eye. “When I first visited, you hadn’t identified the Parkin remains. We agreed you would notify me if and when you identified Parkin. But now you say you’re certain Parkin’s skull is missing. So you did identify it but failed to tell me?”

The faint tickle of self-reproach Nora had felt when she located Parkin’s remains—showing off just a little for Clive’s benefit—now came back, big-time. She hoped it didn’t show. “We conducted further analyses after you left. Your mentioning the broken clavicle provided additional information. We used our artifact database and topographical software tool set to identify the skull, but it was not a hundred percent certain—not without a DNA analysis. All this only happened a day or two ago.”

“So you did find the broken clavicle.”

Nora nodded.

“But you say the skull and some vertebrae are missing. So I assume the clavicle is still on-site?”

“That’s right.”

“May I see it?”

“Of course. It’ll take a bit of time. Do you need it immediately—?”

“It can wait a little, thanks. Right now, I have some questions I’d like to ask you and the others.”

“You mean, as in an interrogation?”

“No—just gathering information on a voluntary basis. I’d like to use this work tent if I may, since it’s private and away from the camp.”

“Is this really necessary?” Nora asked.

“Yes. And I’d like to start with you, Dr. Kelly.”

Nora heaved a deep sigh. “Me? When?”

“Right now.”

33

CORRIE WATCHED AS Kelly and Benton carefully packed away the bones and locked them in a cabinet. They cleared a small worktable for her to use.

“Thank you, this will do fine,” said Corrie as she sat down, laying out her cell phone to record the conversation.

She turned and saw the historian lingering at the flap of the tent. “If Dr. Kelly and I could have some privacy?”

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll go help Bruce and Jason.”

He left and Dr. Kelly took the seat opposite her.

“I’d like to record you, if I may.”

The archaeologist shrugged. “Go ahead. And if you don’t mind, it’s Nora, not Dr. Kelly. We operate on a first-name basis here and you’re beginning to sound like one of my students.”

“Very well. But for the purposes of the questioning, it’ll still be Dr. Kelly.” Corrie turned on the cell phone recorder, gave her name and the date, and then slid it toward the archaeologist. “Please state your name.”