Page 79 of Fire and Bones

“She was dead before her body was burned?” Doyle asked glumly.

“That’s the questi—”

We both turned on hearing a sharp clatter in the hall.

Zanetti was scooping his mobile from the floor.

“That, ladies, is not recommended procedure for the care and feeding of phones.”

He held the device to his ear.

Smiled the toothpaste-of-champions’ smile.

“And she keeps on ticking.”

CHAPTER 18

I was trying to pull a corpse from a bag. It wouldn’t budge. The harder I tugged, the deeper the lifeless limbs entangled themselves in the burlap.

I awoke with my heart busting dance moves in my chest. Sensing the dream had been long and convoluted but recalling no details.

Great. The subcellar vic was now haunting my sleep.

I checked my voice mail. Nothing from Griesser.

My grandmother had a saying. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Or something like that. Gran’s adages were easily lost in the brogue.

But the old saw seemed apt.

I’d come this far with the subcellar vic. Why abandon her now?

I called Pierre LaManche, my boss at the LSJML in Montreal. He had nothing that needed my attention.

I called Nguyen, the chief ME in Charlotte. A teacher had found a human cranium in a storage closet at a high school in Cornelius and dropped it at the MCME. Nguyen was 90 percent certain the skull was an old biological supply house specimen and said there was no reason for me to rush home to see it.

I called my neighbor about Birdie. She was delighted with her feline visitor.

I owed Slidell an update on the Norbert case. Decided to hold off until I’d clarified the presence of female Asian hair in the poop.

To avoid one of Skinny’s blustery harangues?

Ryan still hadn’t texted, emailed, or phoned.

My hostess was still encouraging me to stay.

Stay and do what?

Easy one.

Do right by the tiny lady in the burlap bag.

Fine.

In for a pound.

I began with a review of what I knew for certain. Which wasn’t much.