Island of Bones Read Online Free PDF

dreadlocks.
    Louis crouched in the muck. The sickly sweet smell of death rose up to him over the tidal stench but he didn’t move back.
    He felt a slap on his shoulder and looked back to see a pair of latex gloves hanging from Landeta’s gloved hand. He took them and put them on.
    “What condition is the skin in?” Landeta asked.
    “No separation or swelling.”
    “Can you reach the head?” Landeta said.
    “Yeah.”
    “Pull it up.”
    “I think her neck is broken.”
    “Use the hair.”
    Louis grabbed a hank of hair and carefully pulled up the head. Her mouth was open. So were her eyes. Blue...
    “Do you see any wounds? Signs of trauma?” Landeta asked.
    “No.”
    Louis looked at her twisted body, thinking about what Bev had told him about hurricanes smashing boats to bits.
    “Can you move it?”
    Louis looked back at Landeta. “What?”
    “Can you move it? We need to see the back.”
    She was wearing jeans, ripped at the knee, and a sleeveless white blouse. Louis grabbed the blouse and gave a pull but the body was held tight against its cage of roots.
    “The roots are holding her,” he said.
    “What?”
    “The damn roots. Maybe we should wait for the medical examiner.”
    “Maybe you should find another profession,” Landeta said.
    Louis’s eyes shot back to Landeta. He was just staring back calmly.
    Fuck you, burnout...
    “Try,” Landeta said.
    Louis inched closer, grabbed the blouse with both hands and gave the torso a hard tug. It took two more tries before the body slumped forward. There was a hole high on the back of the blouse.
    “What do you see?” Landeta asked.
    Louis leaned closer. “A bullet hole.”
    “How big?”
    “Big.”
    “Gunshot residue?”
    “She had to have floated here from somewhere else. Wouldn’t the water wash it away?”
    “What do you think?”
    “Hell, I don’t know. Probably.”
    “Not if it was a contact wound. It would’ve burned the blouse. Do you see any?”
    Louis shook his head, wiping away more sweat.
    “Lift the blouse and look,” Landeta said.
    It was hot and the whine of the mosquitoes and the smell was making him sick. He lifted the blouse, trying not to touch the flesh. There was a quarter-sized hole in her back, just under the bra. The tissue around the hole was bubbled and flaking. But no evidence of burning. He saw something on her neck and carefully moved her head.
    “What is it?” Landeta asked.
    “Another bullet hole. In her neck, left side. I’d bet it’s the same caliber as the one in her back.”
    “Anything else?” Landeta asked.
    Louis wiped his sweaty face and looked back at Landeta’s mud-caked trousers. “What?”
    “Do you see anything else?”
    Landeta seemed to be waiting for him to reveal some miraculous observation that only Landeta knew existed. If this was a test, he was getting damn tired of it. Where the hell was Horton anyway?
    Louis leaned back to the body and let his eyes wander its length. He focused on her bare feet. They were badly cut up, especially the soles.
    “She didn’t lose her shoes in the storm. She was barefoot,” Louis said.
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Look at her feet. They’re all cut up.”
    Landeta didn’t move.
    Louis was about to move away and leave Landeta to his little games when he had a sudden memory. A night a long time ago when he had stood over his bathroom sink trying to wash blood from a blue uniform shirt. He had ended up letting it soak for two days and still the blood did not come out.
    “What is it?” Landeta asked.
    “There’s no blood,” Louis said.
    L andeta was silent.
    Louis stood up and looked at Landeta. His shirt clung to his body and he could feel the sweat dripping in his eyes.
    “There’s no blood or stains on her clothes,” Louis said. “She was in the water when she was shot or went in right after.”
    Horton came breaking through the trees at that moment, panting and sweating. He stopped abruptly when he saw the body.
    “Jesus H Christ,” he