Beneath the Bones

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Book: Beneath the Bones Read Online Free PDF
Author: Tim Waggoner
left behind any skid marks.”
    “So … what? The poor boy was just out for a late-night stroll in the country and someone walked up to him and slit his throat?”
    “Too early to tell.” But that’s exactly what it looked like to Joanne. She hoped Terry might be able to shed more light once he finished his examination.
    Dale nodded toward the man Alec was interviewing. “I take it that’s the guy who discovered the body?”
    Joanne nodded. “He was driving home from a poker game — or so he says. From the way he stinks of cheap perfume, my guess is he was out cheating on his wife and doesn’t want to admit it. At any rate, he was driving down the road when his headlights washed over the ditch and he caught sight of the body. He stopped, walked over to the edge of the ditch, and called out to see if the boy was all right. It didn’t take him long to realize the boy was hurt bad, and he ran back to his SUV, got in, locked the doors, and called 911. He was waiting for us here when we arrived.”
    “You think he did it?” Dale asked.
    “No. He wouldn’t have called it in if he had. Besides, if he cut that boy’s throat, he’d have blood all over him. But he’s clean.”
    “I’m surprised he stuck around after he called. You think he’d have been worried the killer might still be nearby.”
    “I wondered about that, too,” Joanne admitted. “I figure either he was in shock and it didn’t occur to him that he might be in danger or, more likely, he was already late getting home to his wife, and he realized that staying to cooperate with the investigation would give him an alibi.”
    Dale smiled. “So he’s more afraid of his wife than a mad slasher, eh?”
    “Looks that way.”
    Dale glanced up and down the road before turning back to Joanne. “Quiet tonight. You’d think the vultures would be out in force.”
    Vultures
was Dale-speak for TV news reporters. Cross County didn’t have its own local television station, but they were close enough to both Dayton and Cincinnati for their reporters to come out — especially for a grisly murder like this one. But none had.
    “Maybe we’ve been lucky and they haven’t gotten wind of the murder yet,” Joanne said.
    “Maybe,” Dale allowed. “But you and I both know it’s more likely that someone’s pulled a few strings to make sure there’s going to be no on-the-scene TV coverage. Someone whose last name is Cross.”
    Before Joanne could reply, Terry called out. “I’m ready.”
    As soon as she’d arrived on the scene, Joanne had slipped sterile hospital booties over her shoes, as had Alec and Terry. She was about to tell Dale to stay where he was, but he reached into one of his suit jacket’s outer pockets and pulled out his own pair of blue booties. Joanne shook her head. She should’ve known.
    She stepped carefully as she walked into the ditch to crouch next to Terry and the body. A moment later, Dale — booties on — joined them, but he remained standing. She didn’t worry that Dale might disturb any evidence. He’d been present at more crime scenes during the course of his career than she had in hers.
    “What have you got for me, Terry?” As soon as the words escaped her lips, Joanne regretted them. Terry could be something of a tease at times, especially when he was handed an impossible-to-resist double entendre like that.
    His mouth twitched, as if it were attempting to form a smile, but he fought it down and maintained his professional composure.
    “I doubt this will come as any great surprise to either of you, but the cause of death appears to have been exsanguination due to throat laceration. Looks like a knife wound of some sort — a single stroke. Whoever did the cutting knew what they were doing and was damn cold-blooded, too. A cut like this was made swiftly, without hesitation. No defensive wounds are apparent, so either the victim knew his assailant or was taken by surprise. The swiftness with which the cut was made would
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