One Grave Too Many

foot away from the ribs of the wolf she had uncovered the human pelvis—besides the skull, one of the most important sets of bones to find.
    She swept away the dirt from the large flat bones that had collapsed into the dirt. She ran her fingers along the bone looking at the details; no ventral arc, narrow sciatic notch, narrow subpubic angle—classic male. She took a brush and cleaned the pubic symphysis, studying the remodeling of the bone, looking for a sign of the age—when she caught sight of what looked like a healed lesion. She’d seen similar bone formations resulting from inflammation, but mostly in women who had just borne a child.
    “Let’s photograph and take up the wolf,” she said. “I’d like to take the human skeleton with me.”
    “I have a scapula over here,” said one of the male crew members. Diane tried to remember his name—something long or not easy on the tongue. Raedwald, that was it. The scapula was three grids away from the main part of the skeleton.
    “This is in bad condition.”
    “The scapula body’s broken, the coracoid process is missing, so is the acromion, the glenoid cavity is badly crushed,” she muttered almost to herself. “Have you found all the pieces?”
    “No. This is pretty much it.”
    “Have it photographed and take it up.” Her head was starting to ache. She rubbed her eyes.
    “I’ve already sketched it. You want to see the arm you discovered yesterday?”
    Diane nodded. She stood, almost too fast, and felt weak on her feet. Fortunately, Raedwald didn’t ask her if she was all right. As well-meaning as everyone was, and as right as they were, she wished they wouldn’t express it.
    She stood for a moment, gathering her wits about her before walking over with him to have a look at the humerus. It was completely excavated and included the forearm bones—the radius and ulna—and the bones of the hand. All neatly sitting on top of the ground as if they had been laid there, but out of place. The radius and ulna were flipped around in their relationship to the humerus. The bones of the hand were off to the side.
    “Good job.”
    “It’s really like a work of art,” he said. “I mean the bones, not the excavation.”
    “I’ve always thought bones are quite lovely. It produces some cognitive dissonance, though, to look at a pit of remains from a mass murder and also see the beauty of the bones.”
    “I’ll bet.”
    Diane sat down cross-legged to examine the bones as they lay there on the ground. The head of the humerus was crushed. This was the part that would have fit into the crushed glenoid cavity.
    “Will you be able to tell the difference between animal activity and, say, an injury?” the excavator asked.
    “Probably.” She touched the bone lightly with her fingers. “Interesting bones.”
    The sound of her telephone ringing came from the pocket of her shirt. She snatched it and pushed the answer button.
    “Dr. Fallon, this is Serena Ellison, Star Boone’s attorney.”
    Diane was disappointed. She wanted to hear news about Frank—good news.
    “Yes?”
    “I’ve made arrangements for us to see her in an hour. I know this is short notice, but . . .”
    “Shall I meet you at the jail?”
    “That would be fine. I’ll see you there.”
    Yes, it would be fine, she thought. Then when she saw Frank she could tell him how Star was doing.
    Diane stood up. “Can I have your attention?” Everyone stopped and looked over at her. “First, I want to thank you, both for the quality and the speed of work you are doing. I can see you’ve been putting in overtime to get this done, and I appreciate it. I have to go back into town, but I’d like you to get the human remains drawn, mapped and out today, if you can. Jonas, would you bring them to my office at the museum? And please don’t tell anyone what they are.”
    The excavators looked at each other as if they were all members of a conspiracy.
    “Sure thing,” said Jonas.
    Jonas walked her back to the creek crossing. Diane eyed him as he wiped his neck with a bandana.
    “You doing OK?” she asked.
    “Me? I think I’m doing better than you are.”
    “That’s not saying much.”
    “I’m doing just fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”
    “Good. You guys are doing a terrific job.”
    “We’re glad to do it. I’m glad to do it. Thanks for the opportunity.”
    “That episode last night. Did you get any sense of danger from it?”
    “No. I had the idea that whoever it was,