Page 40 of You'll Be Sorry

Debs regarded him questioningly. “I take it you already descended into my crime scene? Viewed things up close and personal?”

“On the spectrum of your crankiness to wrath, where would that place me?” Theo asked carefully. “For the record, I am the homeowner.”

“All right, Mr. Homeowner—”

“Theo Collins.”

“Whatever. Approximate date of this well?”

Theo looked so nonplussed Mandy had to repress a smile. A few titters erupted from the gathered crowd.

“Ahh, don’t know. I don’t recall it being on the most recent site map. Which, given its state of overgrowth, might make sense.” He explained the sealed wooden cover, layer of sod and plant growth on top, his new dog being the one that actually made the find. By the end, Debs appeared as mystified as the rest of them.

“So, this structure was completely overgrown even thirty years ago?”

“Oh, I think it disappeared way before that. If you take a look at the old boards, which are solid hemlock, hammered into place with cut nails…”

“As in eighteenth-century nails?”

“Exactly. Come see.”

Debs hesitated just long enough to toss a few final instructionsat Caleb: “Photos, right? Take lots and lots of photos. Then, when I return, we’ll discuss excavation. Trust me, you’re going to love it. Though, in this case…might be on the slimy side. But still. Good fun! Just you wait!”

Then she was trotting off behind Theo to the pile of discarded boards.

The ADME, Schwartz, sidled up to Mandy. “Wait for it,” she muttered. “Three, two…”

“Holy shit!”

“Exactly,” Mandy and Schwartz agreed.

If there’s one thing Mandy already knew about police work, it’s that nothing happens quickly. Debs finished marveling over the wooden cover debris. Contextual data always good to have, she declared.

Then Caleb sent the camera topside for Debs to inspect his photography skills. “Told you we’d be besties,” she cooed.

And now, the main event.

Mandy would confess she was as curious as the next person. Over the years, she’d encountered her fair share of carnage, from MVAs to hunting accidents. But excavating an entire skeleton from a historic well was definitely a new and unusual experience.

True to Mason’s prediction, starting with the sealed crockery did make the most sense, as it would enable Caleb to work in the middle of the debris field. Mason preened smugly while Betty practically clapped her hands in glee.

In comparison, Debs had become all business. She’d already ordered the first bin lowered down. Inside was a layer of padding materials, several pairs of fresh gloves, and a few small hand tools.

She started Caleb with the basics. “Gloves. You’ll notice half a dozen. Feel free to request even more. It’s very important—I can’t stress this enough!—extremelyimportant that you not contaminate the bones.”

“Affirmative.”

“Don’t pluck from above. Use the trowel to delicately loosen surrounding dirt. Then lift each bone fragment from underneath, gently placing it in a bin. Once the bottom is covered, top with padding, start the next layer. Do not rush. Be precise. We got all the time in the world.”

“Okay. But just remember, I’m gonna need a couple of free hours to weave that friendship bracelet later today.”

“A sense of humor, I love it. All right. This so-called crockery. Tell me how you’d like to proceed.”

Faint rasping sounds, Caleb making some preliminary inspections with the trowel. “Okay, I can get it out of the muck. It’s uh…heavy. Like seriously heavy.”

“Don’t be fooled,” Mason called down. “I can assure you it’s still quite fragile. Glazing helps, but all the centuries of being exposed to moisture with freeze and thaw cycles takes its toll.”

“Hey, I was gonna say that,” Debs protested.