Bones to Ashes by Kathy Reichs

Author:Kathy Reichs [Reichs, Kathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Fiction, Crime, Temperance Brennan, Forensics, Anthropology
ISBN: 9780099492368
Publisher: Arrow

23

HIPPO’S JAW WAS CLAMPED LIKE A SCREW PRESS.

“What?” I closed the Zucker file.

Hippo glowered silently.

“Tell me.”

“Just got a courtesy call from the RCMP in Tracadie. Obéline Bastarache is missing and presumed dead.”

I shot to my feet. The Zucker file flew across the floor. “Dead? How?”

Flicking a shirttail, Hippo pocket-jammed the phone and turned away.

“How?” I repeated, too shrill.

“Neighbor downriver from the Bastarache place found a shawl wrapping one of the pilings under his pier. Recognized it. Checked. Got suspicious that Obéline wasn’t home. Says the lady never goes out.”

“That hardly means Obéline drowned.”

“RCMP searched the property. Found blood on the breakwater.”

“That could—”

Hippo continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “Clothes on the end of the breakwater. Folded. Shoes on top. Note d’adieu shoved into one toe.”

I felt the blood drain from my head. “A suicide note?”

Hippo didn’t square to face me.

Didn’t speak the words I knew were goading his tongue.

There was no need. Already, I felt the deadening weight of self-blame.

I swallowed. “When?”

“Yesterday.”

I’d visited Obéline on Tuesday. Wednesday she was dead.

“What did the note say?”

“Adieu. Life sucks.”

Shame boiled inside me.

And anger.

And something else.

Though far from happy, Obéline had seemed content. Had told me she was at the one place she wanted to be.

“I detected nothing to suggest she was suicidal.”

“Where was it you earned that psychology degree?”

My face flamed. Hippo was right. What did I know of this woman? Until two days ago, our last interactions had been as kids.

“No one is questioning that she’s dead? I mean, there’s no body. Are they dragging the river?”

“The river’s a freight train right there.” Hippo was squinting down the hall, into sunlight oozing through one of the living room’s dirt-caked windows. “Body’s probably in the Gulf of St. Lawrence by now.”

“Where was Bastarache?” Hearing agitated voices, Ryan had left Cormier’s office.

“Quebec City.”

“He alibi out?”

“That bastard always alibis out.”

With that, Hippo stomped from the room. In seconds, the studio door opened, slammed.

“I’m sorry.” Ryan’s eyes said he meant it.

“Thanks.” Weak.

There was a moment of strained silence.

“What’s up with Hippo and you?”

“He’s pissed that I went to Tracadie.”

“I doubt it’s you. You’re just handy.”

“He asked me not to make contact.”

“Bastarache is a flesh bandit. Hippo thinks it reflects badly on all Acadians.”

I didn’t trust myself to answer.

“Don’t let him get to you. Hippo’ll never say it, but your finding Cormier’s thumb drive impressed the hell out of him. Once Lesieur cracks it, we’ll be able to reel this dirtball in.”

“If I hadn’t found it, CSU would have.”

Ryan knew that was true. Was trying to be nice.

“If you want to knock off, I understand,” he said.

I shook my head. But I’d already lost Ryan’s attention.

“I have court tomorrow. If we don’t finish today, we’ll wrap up on Monday.”

With that, Ryan disappeared down the hall. And proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the day.

Fine. I could concentrate on Cormier’s bloody files.

Only I couldn’t. All afternoon, I kept seeing Obéline. The gazebo. The breakwater. The shawl.

Leaden, I forced myself through file after file.

Pets. Brides. Kids. None of them Phoebe.

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