The boxes of artifacts were open in the back of Diane’s vehicle. Their contents were in disarray. Some were overturned and the arrowheads had spilled out on the floor.
“Well, hell,” she muttered, and climbed in the back. “I need to sort this out.”
“Damn it, Slick, Tammy, can’t you keep your hands off other people’s things?” said the deputy. Travis Conrad stood at the back of the vehicle with a hand on the open hatch.
“Now you’re accusin’ us,” said Slick. “We was out lookin’ for her. When was it we had time to rifle through her stuff?”
“You had time to move that dead tree,” said Conrad. “I doubt Tammy was out looking for her. Were you the one who went through her things, Tammy?”
“You watch your mouth, Travis Conrad,” said Tammy. “I could say some things about you.”
“A lot of people could, I’m sure. Did you take any of these arrowheads? I mean it. You got yourself in a heap of trouble if you did.”
“You gone crazy, Travis? You wasn’t this pissed about the notion of a skeleton,” said Slick.
“Just empty your pockets,” said Deputy Conrad.
“Them arrowheads belong to Roy Barre. Now empty your pockets.”
“The hell I will,” said Slick.
“You want me to take you in?” said Conrad.
Diane listened from her vantage point in the back of her SUV. She was a little surprised at the deputy’s anger, but then again, after seeing Roy’s and his wife’s murdered bodies, she understood. While they spoke, she took the knife wrapped up in the rain hat and put it between the front seats. She put the flashlight she took from Slick with it. It felt good not to have them sticking her in the ribs. She felt only mildly guilty not giving them to the deputy. But technically, the knife wasn’t part of the crime scene. Nor was the poncho the stranger had given her, and so far Deputy Conrad hadn’t asked her for it.
“I won’t forget this, Travis,” said Slick.
“If you didn’t have such a reputation for pilfering people’s things and siphoning their gas, you wouldn’t be having this problem, Slick. Empty out your pockets, or so help me, I’ll run you in.”
“If I had an arrowhead in my pocket, it would be mine, and you’d think I stole it,” Slick said.
He sounds like a kid, Diane thought as she looked at the boxes of arrowheads. Most of them they hadn’t opened, thank heaven. They had pulled the smaller boxes out of the larger one. She supposed when they discovered they were arrowheads, they pretty much lost interest.
“Just hand it over,” said Deputy Conrad.
Slick pulled a three-inch, black flint arrowhead out of his pocket.
“It’s mine,” he said. “Roy ain’t the only one who collects arrowheads.”
Diane watched Deputy Conrad take the arrowhead and turn it over in his hand.
“You know, Slick, I can imagine you picking up arrowheads and collecting them. But for the life of me, I can’t picture you sitting at a desk and putting numbers on all of them.” Conrad handed the point to Diane. “Does this belong with Roy’s?” he asked, eyeing Slick.
Diane looked at the projectile point, as Jonas Briggs, the museum’s archaeologist, called them. She had no idea what kind it was, but it was pretty. Long and jet-black. Near the base on a flake scar was a small rectangle of white paint with neat, tiny black numbers. Roy said he had numbered each of the items in his grandfather’s collections-all according to the carefully penned outline his grandfather did of each point he found, along with a rather charming description of where he found it and what he was doing that day. It must have taken Roy months to find which point matched what outline in his father’s diary. A real labor of love for him.
“Yes, this is one of Roy’s,” said Diane.
“You lying bitch,” said Tammy. “This is the last time we ever try to help anybody out. They can just lie out in the mud for all we care, can’t they, honey?”
Diane ignored her and carefully put the point away, grateful that it hadn’t gotten broken in Slick’s pocket.
“Tammy, why don’t you and Slick go in the house and fix yourselves some of that cocoa you were talking about,” said Conrad.
“Travis, I never would have suspected what a little piece of shit you are,” said Tammy. “No wonder Carol steps out on you. I saw her getting it on with Pryce Moody the other day out by the lake.”
“Tammy, how would you even know what that looks like?” said Deputy Conrad.
“Why, you pig, I ought to scratch your eyes out,” she said, making clawlike movements with her hands.
“Slick,” said Conrad, “why don’t the two of you go inside, like I suggested. And if, on the way, you find anything that belongs to Miss Fallon, just toss it over here.”
Slick and his girlfriend, Tammy, turned and walked inside, hurling a few more insults that Diane didn’t quite hear. She shook her head. What a pair.
Travis climbed in the back with Diane and looked over the boxes she was repacking.
“Roy was so proud that the museum was interested in his arrowhead collection. He said he might get a plaque with his and his grandfather’s name on it hanging in the museum. He was worried that you might not accept the collection, ’cause he didn’t have an exact location where they were found.”
“His grandfather left a detailed diary telling generally where he found things in the woods,” said Diane. “We don’t have an exact location, but our archaeologist assures me that the collection will be useful-at the very least, to catalog the types of points found in the area.”
“So Roy’ll get his plaque?” asked Deputy Conrad.
“Yes,” said Diane. “This is going to be a nice collection for the museum.”
Travis Conrad nodded. “Good. I’d like to put that in his obituary, that he’s getting a plaque. He’d be proud.”
“Yes, he would,” said Diane. “I’m glad Mr. Massey didn’t get into the boxes with the really large points,” said Diane.
“He’d of taken them for sure,” said Deputy Conrad. “I was thinking about Dances with Wolves, ’bout them soldiers wiping their butts with John Dunbar’s diary. Slick didn’t get Ray’s grandfather’s diary, I hope?”
“No. Fortunately, we have that. Our archaeologist has been studying it,” said Diane.
Travis nodded. “Tell me, were you bullshitting about the details of that skeleton?” he asked.
“No. All the information I mentioned I got from the skull. It’s pretty standard observation in my business. Although I didn’t see it for very long, I did get a reasonably good look at it. I may be wrong on some of the details, but I wasn’t making it up. They got rid of a human skeleton somewhere,” said Diane. “It had been cemented up in that hollow tree for no longer than a year. I’m fairly certain of that.”
Diane got out of the vehicle and walked across the road to the ditch, where Slick had dumped the pieces of the rotten tree. Deputy Conrad followed her. She looked through the pile and picked up a curved piece of wood and a piece of concrete.
“Souvenirs?” asked Conrad.
“I thought this would make a nice bowl,” she said, smiling.
“This. . this thing. . that happened to Roy and Ozella will take all our time,” he said. “We don’t have the manpower to investigate this right now.”
“I understand. You don’t mind if I take some souvenirs, do you?” she said.
“No, just let me know if they are interesting,” he said.
“Sure. Listen, try to convince your father to call in the GBI,” said Diane.
Travis nodded. “I’ll have the coroner on my side. He’s the local large-animal veterinarian, and he’ll be just as out of his depth as I am. I know how to lift fingerprints, but that’s the end of my expertise. I think Daddy will see it our way.”
“Who will do the autopsies?” asked Diane.
“That’s a good question. That will be the coroner’s choice,” he said.
“You might think about Lynn Webber. She’s in Rosewood,” said Diane.
“For Daddy’s part, that’s two strikes against her. She’s from Rosewood, and she’s a she. Sheriff Conrad is kind of traditional about women.”
“Lynn is very charming,” said Diane.
Travis grinned at Diane. “It’d take a lot to charm Daddy.”
“Like you said, it’s the coroner’s choice,” she said. She walked back to her vehicle and put the wood and concrete in the back.
“That it is,” he said. “You know, I’m afraid we’ve left you with a real bad impression of us here in Rendell County. There’s good people here. They’re very conservative and traditional, but they are hardworking, God-fearing people who want to keep their kids safe from a lot of the bad stuff that goes on in the big cities.”
“I know. I liked the Barres a lot. I’m sure there are many others like them here,” said Diane. “I hope there’re not too many like Slick and Tammy.”
“They are fairly unique,” he said. “Listen, Daddy’s going to want to talk to you. He’ll probably give me hell for letting you go home, but I figure you’ve been through enough for one night. And it’s not like we don’t know where to find you.”
“Call me when you need me to give a statement,” said Diane. She looked over at the Massey house. The lights were still on. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor. I know you have to get back, but could you lead me to the main road to Rosewood?”
He grinned. “Sure. That won’t be no problem. I got to get to a phone and call Daddy anyway. Get in and follow me.”
Diane was relieved. She fully believed that Slick would follow her if she were alone. She shouldn’t have been such a show-off about the bones. It alerted them that she knew too much. She got in the SUV and followed Deputy Conrad as he pulled out and drove down the muddy road toward civilization.