Bree’s stomach rolled. “Or a dog.”
“Possibly.” Sam nodded. “We’re working on that excavation too, so we’ll have that answer later today or tomorrow.”
Bree gestured over the clearing. “How many days do you think it’ll take?”
“Two, maybe three to do it properly. As far as excavating this grave”—Sam turned his attention back to the bones on the tarp—“we’re just getting started, but we’ve been incredibly lucky to have found both skulls and pubic bones, along with some long and small bones. Let’s talk about the bones first. Then I’ll address the personal effects we’ve uncovered.” He took a breath. “So far, we believe we have the remains of two victims here. From the recovered pubic bones, we’ve determined one is male and one is female. This skull recovered from this grave belongs to the male.” He pointed to the skull in the cardboard box. “Based on age, size, and overall context of the find, the skull found in the loft likely belongs to the female skeleton. We’ll confirm with DNA, but I believe it’s reasonable to proceed on that assumption at this time.”
Bree eyed the holes in the foreheads of both skulls. “They were both shot in the head.”
“Yes.” Crouching, Sam donned a glove, picked up the skull on the tarp, and turned it over to reveal a larger hole at its base. “The entry hole is smaller than the exit here in the occipital bone. Also, the hole isn’t completely round. It’s more of a keyhole shape, meaning the bullet struck the skull at an angle more acute than ninety degrees. I can tell that the male was facing his shooter. The entrance wound”—he pointed to the forehead—“is beveled inward, while the exit wound is beveled outward. From the location of the entry and exit, we can see a downward trajectory of the bullet.”
“Can you tell how far away the shooter stood?” Bree asked.
Sam pointed to the entry wound. “Based on the fractures radiating from the entry wound, I’d say the shooter stood a few feet away. I’ll be able to give you more information once we get the bones in the lab, do measurements, and run tests.”
Bree could picture it easily. “He was on his knees in front of their killer.”
“Most likely, yes,” Sam agreed.
“An execution,” Matt said.
A short pause followed his statement.
“The female was also shot in the head. But the same factors I outlined before—trajectory, fractures, beveling, et cetera—suggest she was lying on the ground when she was shot.”
“Is there anything else?” Bree needed more to start trying to identify the remains.
“Yes. Quite a bit, actually.” Sam pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his sweaty nose. “Based on the length of the long bones, I estimate the male was approximately five eight to six feet tall. The female was between five two and five six.”
“Race?” Matt asked.
Sam frowned at the skulls one at a time. “Both were probably Caucasian.”
“Ages?” Bree asked.
Sam said, “Human bones continue to grow until adulthood. The long bones grow at either end. We call these growth plates. They fully close when the skeleton is finished growing. We call this epiphyseal closure, or growth plate fusion. Just eyeballing the long bones, I know these victims were both adults.” He pointed to a curved, thin bone in the center of the line. “You can also estimate age by looking at the sternal ends of the ribs, but we’ve only found one rib from the male victim so far. We’re also still missing a good number of teeth and some fingers from both victims. The best I can do is between twenty-five and fifty for both of them. When I get them into the lab, I might be able to narrow that span based on a thorough analysis of all the bones we recover.”
“I hear a but . . . ,” Bree said.
Sam nodded. “But that might not be necessary. We have a few specific discoveries that might be very helpful.” He indicated several items in an open cardboard box. “Let’s start with a key piece of jewelry.” He pointed to a tarnished bangle bracelet with hearts and the name Jennifer engraved on it. “We’re assuming this bracelet belonged to the female. Most males don’t wear jewelry this delicate. Plus, it’s too narrow in circumference to have fit around the average male wrist. There’s a date engraved on the inside of the bracelet: 6-20-1985.”
Matt pulled out his phone and typed on the screen. “That was a Thursday.”
“Maybe her birthday or wedding,” Bree suggested.
Sam pointed out a smooth fissure on a piece of a jawbone lying next to the skull. “Next, the female’s mandible shows a healed fracture.” He squinted at the bone. “And potentially some extensive dental work to repair some sort of trauma. I’ll know more if we recover the remaining piece of jaw and the molars. If we can locate her dental records, we should be able to make an identification. We have a forensic odontologist—that’s a forensic dentist—available at the university.”
“We need a name to locate dental X-rays,” Bree said. “Do you have any indication how long the remains were in the ground?”
“Yes and no.” Sam pursed his lips. “The bones have been buried for at least a year—”
“We found a wallet,” Dr. Jones interrupted.
“Yes!” Sam said. “Did I forget to mention that? Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away with the bones.”
The corner of Dr. Jones’s mouth twitched. “The wallet was in tatters. The license was faded, but the print was readable.”
“Who is it?” Bree asked.
Dr. Jones said, “Frank Evans.”
The name was familiar, but Bree didn’t know why.
Dr. Jones donned a glove and picked up a box full of grungy-looking odds and ends.
Bree saw a strip of elastic, buttons, a few coins, and some pieces of fabric.
Dr. Jones lifted a small plastic rectangle and displayed it in her palm. She pointed to the text. “The license says Frank was five ten, which falls in the range of Sam’s height estimate. Obviously, we can’t match his eye color.”
“But we have a name,” Bree said.
“And a date,” Dr. Jones said. “The license was issued in 1988.”
“One of the coins is dated 1989,” Sam added.
“So, they probably weren’t buried until 1989 or later.” Bree scanned the items, pleasantly surprised at the amount of information they’d already gleaned from the grave excavation. “Hopefully, we can locate a missing persons report, DNA, or dental records.”
“There are a few other interesting elements.” Sam picked up two small bones and held them up. “These are finger bones. Distal phalanx and middle phalanx, or the first two bones of the finger when counting from the tip. If you look at the middle phalanx on the end where it connects to the distal phalanx, the edge is clean-cut.” He fished around the small bones on the tarp for another that looked similar. “This is a normal phalanx.”
The normal bone looked like Bree expected, more rounded with smooth edges. “What are you saying? The fingertip was cut off?” Her stomach soured.
“Yes, and we found two more like that from the male skeleton,” Sam said simply. “These bones didn’t separate from the skeleton naturally.”