Stranded

garbage bag when he slipped, almost losing his balance. He replanted his feet and his right shoe sank down. Maggie heard him groan but he stayed put. He was close enough to bend down and touch the bulging plastic.
    He pushed up his rolled shirtsleeves. Then he reached out with a gloved hand and gently swiped off a chunk of dirt. He waited as if he expected the plastic to burst open. Maggie glanced around at the men from the construction crew and the deputies. All of them appeared to be holding their breath. No one dared fidget or shift.
    Tully took another swipe and then another. A large chunk of dirt came loose and skidded down the pile, revealing more of theblack bag. That’s when a piece of the plastic flapped open. It had already been torn but the dirt had kept it sealed.
    Tully carefully peeled it open. Suddenly he jerked away just as a foot slipped out from the plastic. An orange sock dangled from the toes.
    Maggie heard several of the men gasp as they watched the pale skin change to dark red in a matter of seconds. She had seen it happen once before. A strange and eerie phenomenon that sometimes occurred when encased decaying flesh is first exposed to air and sun. It almost looked as if the body were coming back to life, trying to kick out of the sock and the bag.
    “I think we can call the crime techs now,” Tully said.
    Then Maggie heard someone start to gag. Without looking she knew it was the poor young deputy. He finally had his first dead body.

CHAPTER 4

    OUTSIDE MANHATTAN, KANSAS
    OFF INTERSTATE 70
    Noah had no idea how long he had been lying under the pine tree. Nor had he noticed how close he was to the back of the small brick building. Somewhere he heard the buzz of electrical machines and the hum of traffic. It all came to him muffled, like he had cotton wadded up in his ears. His breathing came in rasps and hitches. His chest hurt, as if he hadn’t stopped running. His heartbeat continued to gallop and refused to slow back down to normal. Whatever normal was.
    “Eleanor, there’s a young man here.”
    Noah heard the voice, though he stayed in his fetal position, not even attempting to see if the person was close by or referring to him.
    Please don’t see me. Please just walk on by
.
    “He looks like he’s bleeding.”
    Busted
.
    But he didn’t have the strength to crawl out of sight. He couldn’t crawl. He couldn’t move. His muscles had given up. All he knew was that the last time he tried to sit up, it hurt too much.He’d curled up into a ball, trying to make himself small. Trying to make himself disappear. Dark had turned into day. Cold into warm. But his mind had shut off. He had to shut it off.
    “No, stay back, Eleanor.”
    The man was close but he was keeping a safe distance.
    “He doesn’t have any clothes on.”
    He took them. He took everything
.
    “Good God, there’s so much blood. I think he’s hurt pretty bad.”
    Noah didn’t have the energy to tell the man that it wasn’t his blood. It was Ethan’s. Or what was left of Ethan.
    Don’t think about it. Can’t think about it. Stop thinking about it. Just breathe
.
    “Go call 911, Eleanor.”
    No, just leave me here
.
    Noah tried to block out the man’s voice. Somewhere above, a hawk screeched. A breeze swished through the branches. Other birds chirped and tweeted. He couldn’t identify them. Leaves skittered. He wanted to fill his head with any sound as long as it might block out Ethan’s screams.

CHAPTER 5

    “Where’s the closest FBI field office?” Tully asked Maggie.
    She had joined him at the top of the dirt pile. Both of them were ankle-deep in mud. From this close, the smell was overpowering, even though they had shifted and climbed a bit higher so they could look down at the protruding garbage bag and be upwind. The sheriff, his deputies, and the construction crew kept their distance, staying on the other side of the trench. They had even backed away without being asked. It also put them out of earshot of Tully and Maggie’s conversation.
    “I’m guessing Minneapolis is four or five hours away,” Maggie said after some thought. “I don’t think we have a field office in Iowa or South Dakota.”
    “Omaha’s probably the closest. Do you know anyone there?”
    Maggie shook her head. “Not in the FBI office. But they have a regional crime lab that’s first class.”
    They stood side by side, so close Maggie’s shoulder brushed against Tully’s arm. They were perched five feet above with a