Once Buried

Well, obviously, he wanted the case wrapped up before he went home to dinner. That way he could take full credit for solving it without a lot of trouble for himself.

Anyway, now they could get down to business.

Riley asked, “First of all, are there any questions?”

“What have you got in the way of a profile on the killer?” Craig Huang asked.

“Not much just yet,” Riley said. “I’ve got a gut-level feeling about him. I suspect that he’s personally quite charming, and that people might actually trust him when they first meet him.”

Riley turned to Bill and Jenn, who were still dusting the timer and listening to the conversation.

“Do either of you have anything to add?” Riley asked them.

Jenn said, “The killer must be physically robust.”

“That’s right,” Bill said. “These killings involved a lot of digging and carrying, and one of the victims was physically assaulted. He might not be especially big, but he’s in pretty good shape.”

Sam Flores, the technician, spoke up.

“I see that Agents Jeffreys and Roston are dusting for prints. Any luck with that yet?”

Bill and Jenn had almost finished dusting the first timer.

“None at all,” Bill said. “It looks like the killer wiped it down carefully before leaving it.”

Riley felt a flash of discouragement. If the killer had taken such care with the first timer, he’d surely done the same with the second. The only prints they’d find on it would be Rags Tucker’s.

Sam said, “Could you give me a better look at the timers?”

Riley moved the tablet all around the timers so Sam could look at them more carefully.

Sam said, “Those are some pretty distinctive markings. Both timers are carved in the same style, but there are some interesting variations. Do you think they might be some kind of code?”

“That’s a good thought,” Riley said. “We’ll take close-ups and send them to you. You can do some research, see if the marks mean anything. But I want you to do something before that, while the rest of us are talking. See if you can locate any hourglass makers in this general area.”

“I’ll do that,” Sam said.

She could hear his fingers clicking on his keyboard.

Riley thought hard and fast, trying to decide how to deal with the others.

She said, “Agent Engel, I want you to get in touch with Parker Belt, the chief of police in Sattler. Get as much information as you can about the victims and their families, also the people who discovered the bodies. Share whatever you find out with the others here.”

All the people on the screen were dutifully taking notes now.

Riley continued, “Agent Whittington, pay a visit to the first victim’s family. Agent Craft, do the same with the second victim’s family. Agent Geraty, see if you can interview the people who found the bodies. Agent Ridge, get in touch with the district ME and see if he’s got any new information about how the victims died.”

She thought for a moment.

Then she said, “Agent Huang, you’re the point man for the team. Stay in touch with everybody and keep track of their progress. Also see what you can do about handling the media. This whole thing is liable to get out of control if we’re not careful.”

Huang asked, “Shouldn’t we close off the whole park to visitors, especially around the time in question?”

“Good idea,” Riley said. “Call Chief Belt and get that underway. Also help him send out a general warning to the community.”

Riley breathed a little easier now that she’d assigned jobs to everybody.

Meanwhile, Sam Flores had finished his search.

He said, “I’ve found an hourglass maker with a workshop near Colonial Williamsburg. His name is Ellery Kuhl. I’ll email you the address.”

“Good work,” Riley said. “Flores, I also need you to search for any similar murders that have been committed anywhere else recently – live burials, I mean. Now get started, everybody. The clock is running out. Literally.”

She ended the meeting and said to Bill and Jenn, “Stop dusting for prints and take lots of detailed pictures and send them to Sam Flores. I’ll drive us to Colonial Williamsburg.”

As she started to drive, she remembered something else that Rags Tucker had said.

“You can’t turn back time, as they say.”

She glanced at her watch and saw that the meeting had taken about a half hour.

She hoped it hadn’t been a waste of time. It was thirty minutes they weren’t going to get back.

And it could mean the difference between life and death.

Chapter Ten

Riley could feel her anxiety rising as she drove toward Williamsburg. During the hour-long trip, she found herself obsessing about every passing second.

It was still early afternoon on the very first day of this investigation. Although she always worked as fast as she could to stop a killer, the pressure of time had never before been so relentless.