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The Bone Woman

Page 20

by Paige Shelton

“I don’t know yet.”

“Got it.”

As Sonny made his way toward the counter, I set my sights on the customers in booth three.

When Verro saw me making my way, he waved me over.

“Hazel, good morning. This is Officer Jenna Griffen. Jenna, this is Hazel Dylan.”

She nodded as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “It’s nice to meet you.” She scooted in a little but didn’t smile. She inspected me with curious eyes. “Have a seat.”

“I don’t want to interrupt,” I lied.

“Not at all,” Verro said.

I sat. I didn’t recognize her. I’d never heard of a family with the last name Griffen in town. Her features were pretty but sharp, made more so by the severe bun she wore. Immediately, I decided that she was even more no-nonsense than Verro.

“I’m sorry for what you went through yesterday. We are on it, Ms. Dylan,” she said.

“Oh. Hazel’s fine. Thanks. I’m glad to hear it.”

“Call me Jenna. Have you remembered anything else?” Griffen asked.

“I haven’t.” I turned to look at her more straight on. “Are you from Black Vulture?”

“No, ma’am. My wife just got a job at the place the locals call The Institute. I was an officer in Oregon when Allie got the offer. She couldn’t pass it up. I was glad to find that the chief here was looking for some help.”

“I’m glad to have an experienced officer,” Verro added.

“Welcome to Black Vulture,” I said. “Both of you.”

“Thanks,” she said. Quickly, she added, “You saw the skeleton yesterday?”

“I did.”

“Initial thoughts?”

“The victim’s limbs were disarticulated from the body before the bones were defleshed. Probably male, probably about middle age or so, but none of that is confirmed, and it’s not much to go on. The teeth might help with identification.” I paused. “I’m sure you two will be fully informed soon enough.”

Jenna nodded. “When I got the job, I read up about Black Vulture. Your father was mentioned. The chief and I speculated that maybe your father’s old job and disappearance might have something to do with a skeleton sculpture.”

I nodded. “I think Calloway thinks the same thing, but, as I told him, a bone sculpture isn’t taxidermy. In fact, for the most part, bones aren’t used in the craft.”

“He was an interesting man.”

“I don’t understand. My father disappeared a long time ago. How was he mentioned?”

Jenna nodded. “Your father’s job and disappearance are fodder for lots of speculation.”

A wave of disquiet ran through me. I was used to my father’s story; it was almost as much mine as his. It wasn’t often that locals mentioned or asked me about him anymore. Even visitors to the museum didn’t bring him up much. The place was more about the mounts than the man who’d created them. But certainly, I knew there was speculation. Except I had more important things to do than indulge it because I lived it.

Jenna continued, “Did you listen to the podcast?”

I was sure she was referring to Minnie Chavez’s true-crime podcast, the one Calloway had asked me about. “Minnie’s?”

Jenna nodded. “It’s good.”

“People listen to it?” My tone was proof I still hadn’t had any caffeine. I should have apologized for the snark, but I just cleared my throat.