Dead Secret

passage dragging Caver Doe and all their paraphernalia.
    “I called MacGregor and asked him to meet us on the other end of this passage to help carry some of this stuff,” said Mike. “He’ll get a kick out of helping carry the body.”
    “Yes,” said Neva. “It’ll give him something to talk about—for months, maybe years.”
    Diane decided that she would take the lead out of the tunnel and Mike would bring up the rear. She went through, pulling both her and Jin’s backpacks. The metal frame on Jin’s pack scraped the rock wall all the way through the tight tunnel. She emerged almost in MacGregor’s lap.
    “Hi! Need help getting the stuff out?” Dick MacGregor was sitting outside the narrow tunnel eating an apple. He stuffed the unfinished snack in his backpack.
    “Yes. We could use your help,” said Diane.
    Neva’s headlamp was visible as she squirmed through the narrow passage, dragging the crime scene kit and her backpack behind her.
    Diane tried to tune out the scraping sounds of the hard metal crime scene case.
    “Is the deputy outside?” she asked.
    “Oh, yeah. Me and him have been talking. He said the sheriff wasn’t going to like the coroner giving you the body. But, heck, what was he going to do with it anyway? I mean, I think the coroner was right—finders keepers. You going to put him on show with the other mummy at the museum?”
    “We’re going to find out who he is. He may have relatives from around here. You ever heard stories about anyone getting lost in a cave?” asked Diane as she helped Neva out of the tunnel with her load.
    MacGregor scratched his scruffy dark beard. “No . . . come to think of it, I never did. I’ll ask my cousin. It’s his family’s land. They might know.”
    Jin came tumbling out, pulling Caver Doe in the body bag behind him. They were in a small room devoid of any formations. It had an irregular dome shape and walls a light color similar to the big tunnel where Diane had found the button. It was a cozy room, almost like a bubble between the narrow crack they just came through and the twisting passage they were about to enter.
    They waited several minutes for Mike.
    “What’s keeping him?” asked Jin.
    “He’s getting the rope,” said Diane.
    “Oh, yeah. Isn’t it heavy carrying around all that rope?”
    “Can be, but it’s good to have it when you need it.”
    Finally Mike came through, pulling Jin’s duffel bag and his backpack with his coils of rope tied to it.
    “Why don’t MacGregor and Jin carry the body bag?” Mike said to Diane. “I can take the crime scene kit and Jin’s backpack. Neva can carry your pack, and you can carry the duffel bag.”
    Diane nodded in agreement. She and Mike were the most experienced cavers, and he had given the heaviest loads to himself and her.
    “Can’t believe there’s a dead body in this bag,” said MacGregor. “You don’t think it’s anybody we know, do you?” His voice had a sudden tone of concern in it.
    Diane shook her head. “No, this guy’s been here a long time.”
    It took them three times as long to get out of the cave as it had to get in, loaded down as they were. Several times they had to stop and negotiate through squeezes, taking off their load and pulling it behind them or pushing it in front of them.
    A loaded caravan through a cave wasn’t as much fun as simple caving. Diane felt relieved when they first emerged into the outdoors, but she quickly wished she were back in the cave. It was hot, especially compared to the cool cave. With her long-sleeved caving attire, it wouldn’t take long to get uncomfortably hot. But there was the deputy to talk to first.
    He sat on the bumper of his Lumpkin County patrol car with his arms folded in a manner that Diane had seen young children do when they were in full pout mode. Dressed in navy-blue pants and a short-sleeved shirt, the deputy looked to be in his early forties and had wavy blond hair and the beginnings of a potbelly.
    “You know, I have other things to do than sit around here all day. Which one of you is Diane Fallon?” His gaze took in all of them, as if one of the males might have been named Diane.
    “I’m Diane Fallon.”
    “You could have come out and signed this paper and I could have been on my way.”
    “I’m sorry, Deputy”—she looked at his nameplate above his shirt pocket—“Deputy Singer. I would have if I could. But I’m here now and I’ll be glad to sign the coroner’s papers.” Diane