Page 61 of Wild Tempest

We moved through the woods and reached the clearing where the documentary team had set up their tent. Everything was gone now, all the evidence collected. The rain had washed away all traces of the blood. The campfire was nothing but soggy ash.

We stood in the campsite under the stars and got quiet for a moment. The sounds of the crickets kept us company. Wind rustled through the trees, and the high grass swayed.

"Are you picking up on anything?" I asked.

Teagan closed her eyes and took a few slow, deep inhales. "Where did you discover the body?"

"You mean the skeleton?"

She nodded.

I pointed across the island. "Over there. Brenda says the skeleton has been on the island for at least 400 years.”

"You really think that's the Witch of Whistler Cay?" she asked.

"I think there’s a good possibility it's Doña Elena de la Cruz,” I said, then added in a skeptical tone. “Whether or not she's a witch is a different story.”

"Don't mock things you don't understand," she teased.

I stifled an eye-roll.

"You said there was a shallow grave. Where is that?”

"Over there," I said, pointing. "You want to see it?”

Teagan nodded.

I escorted her across the island, through another wooded area, to another clearing. We marched through the high grass to the pit. It was empty, but the dimensions suggested it was intended to conceal a body. The dogs had indicated at the site, and investigators had recovered plenty of biological evidence. Piles of dirt next to the grave had turned to muddy mounds in the rain.

Something in the pit glimmered in the moonlight.

I shone my flashlight on it and knelt down beside the pit. I snapped on a pair of nitrile gloves, reached into the grave, and pulled out a gold hoop earring. I held it between my thumb and index finger, examining it. The forensic team had obviously missed this the first time we were out here. The recent rain had shifted the earth and made it visible.

I bagged it as evidence, labeled it, then slipped it into my pocket. Maybe Brenda would be able to pull trace DNA from the post, but I wasn’t optimistic. She had told me they were unable to recover anything from the grave wax and soil samples. Too degraded. She had found traces of chlorine, sodium, and chlorate. The killer had probably tried to destroy evidence with bleach. I hoped the earring didn’t suffer the same degradation.

Teagan shrugged. "Maybe that's what you were supposed to find. Maybe this is why we came out here."

"I thought you said we were looking for a camera and video footage."

"It's not an exact science."

"It's not a science at all," I said, teasing her.

She stuck her tongue out at me.

I knew better than to doubt Teagan's intuition.

We left the pit and headed back across the meadow, then slipped into the woods. We marched through the underbrush, my flashlight beam leading the way. I stepped over a fallen log and told Teagan to watch her step. I shined the flashlight behind me so she could see it. When she stepped over, I brought the beam back in front of me. As I did, it caught something reflective in the underbrush just off the trail.

I focused the beam on it.

Sure enough, it was a cellphone.

I took a step toward it, put on another pair of nitrile gloves, then knelt down and picked up the device.

Teagan stood over me with folded arms, lifting a sassy eyebrow. "Told you."

I gave her a skeptical look.