Bone Secrets 03 - Buried

and I used to watch that.”
    “Me too.” Jamie turned and tried to smile at him. “There’s nothing here. I thought for certain there’d be pictures of Brian. Chris avoids pictures, but I don’t know why he wouldn’t take pictures of his son.”
    “Dunno.” Michael frowned. “We need to head back to Demming.”
    Jamie didn’t like the grim expression on his face. “What’s happened?” She held her breath.
Not Brian, please don’t tell me something has happened.
    “Spencer is at a murder in town. His first murder in eight years, and he says the victim’s a friend of your brother.”

    Three sheriff’s cruisers and one state police vehicle crowded the street in front of the town’s bakery. It looked like a simple concrete block building. The only clue to its purpose was the sign that read BAKERY painted over the door. Locals scattered about the sidewalks, talking, pointing, and wiping at tears.
    Michael glanced at his watch and felt it slide in the sweat on his arm. It was ten a.m. and over ninety degrees. Welcome to Eastern Oregon.
    At least it’s not humid.
    For as many times as he’d heard that phrase, it should be the state’s motto.
    The locals avoided him and Jamie. He caught a few glances thrown their way, some curious, some unfriendly. No doubt a lot of the town had heard the two of them were looking for Chris. And now Chris’s best buddy had been brutally murdered. “Best buddy” might be a stretch of the description. “The only person Chris talked to” was sounding more accurate.
    The sheriff’s men were giving them the stink eye, too, as they waited to talk to Spencer. Like he and Jamie were the ones who’d brought murder to their perfect town. Michael inwardly sighed and wrapped a tighter arm around Jamie’s shoulders. She’d been looking over her shoulder since Michael had told her there’d been a murder. She’d asked few questions on the ride to town. Michael had few answers.
    No sign of Chris and Brian.
    No sign of the man who had done it.
    Michael knew she was thinking the same thing as he.
    Were we followed from Portland? Did we lead someone to Chris?
    Sheriff Spencer stepped out of the bakery, took off his cowboy hat, and brushed his forehead with his sleeve. Close behind him was an officer in an Oregon State Police uniform. Michael wondered how many square hundreds of miles the OSP officer was responsible for. He’d heard they were spread pretty thin on this side of the state. Spencer caught Michael’s eye and jerked his head. Michael moved in his direction, bringing Jamie with him.
    “Brody. Ms. Jacobs. This is Sergeant Tim Hove with OSP.” Spencer made introductions. Hove was cadaver thin with red hair and pale skin that must hate the intense sun of the east side of the state.
    Hands were shaken all around.
    “Who exactly is the victim?” Michael asked.
    The two police officers exchanged glances. Spencer spoke. “Juan Rios was sixty-eight and owned the bakery. He lived behind it, same as his father had done for decades. Lived alone. No known family.” He took a deep breath, glanced at Jamie, and then returned his gaze to hold Michael’s. “Someone broke in. The door lock was busted, weak-assed lock. Juan was tied up in a chair. He’s got abrasions from head to toe, at least six broken fingers, and cigarette burns on his cheeks.”
    Jamie made a small sound in the back of her throat and moved closer beneath Michael’s arm. He felt a small shiver speed through her shoulders. Rage reddened Michael’s vision.
    If I have the chance, I will kill Mr. Tattoo.
    “Looks like the cause of death will be strangulation.” He’s still got the cord around his neck. We’ll see what the medical examiner says.
    “Juan may have had some overnight guests at some point. There’s evidence that someone, possibly two people, slept in his upstairs room recently.”
    “Chris?” Jamie asked.
    Sheriff Spencer shook his head. “I don’t know. No one we’ve talked to said anyone was known to sleep here except for Juan. There are some crayons on the table. So one guest may have been a child, which makes your brother a possibility. Chris never talked to anyone else in town.” He scowled. “I don’t like that it appears your brother has left town, Ms. Jacobs.”
    Jamie stood taller. “You don’t think Chris killed that man, do you? That’s crazy. Why would he break in if you thought he was sleeping in the man’s home?” She pushed Michael’s arm off her shoulders,