Deming was a tiny town in Whatcom County, population just over 343 according to the Wikipedia entry. The trip there took longer than Michael expected, due to construction along the route. To reach the logging road where the abandoned vehicle was located, he had to take a small secondary road east and then went north on the logging road, about three miles out of town. Michael couldn't believe anything happened there, but he'd been wrong before about small towns and big crimes.
The vehicle had been abandoned on a side road in the middle of the forest. The area had been clear-cut a decade earlier and now the trees had grown back so that the new-growth forest offered a lot of cover. The Whatcom County Sheriff's office had control of the site and the crime scene investigators from Bellingham were combing the area around the vehicle, checking for signs that the driver and any passengers had fled the vehicle and were in the surrounding forest. Michael parked away from the side road where the vehicle had been abandoned, to avoid adding even more tire tracks to complicate the scene. The area had been marked off with yellow tape, not that there were any observers that far into the mountain. Michael got out of his Jeep, grabbed a pair of latex gloves from a box in his glove compartment and tucked them into his pocket so he could examine any contents of the abandoned car without leaving prints.
He scanned the scene to find the common approach. The old logging road extended farther up the side of Mt. Baker but the side road where the vehicle had been abandoned was barely wide enough for a car, let alone a truck. There were footprints leading off into the forest, and several different sets of tire tracks leading to the vehicle and away.
Michael suspected that whoever was driving the abandoned vehicle had been followed and had tried to escape. They'd either find a body in the forest, or they'd find evidence that the driver had been abducted.
Michael presented his credentials to the detective who was in charge of the scene.
"What have we got?" he asked when he arrived at the vehicle, a late model Ford Escape, the driver side door open.
Detective Palmer from Bellingham's major crimes unit, replied. "2014 Ford Escape. In the glove compartment, we found registration to Craig Lang, twenty-eight, from Seattle. There's a handbag in the vehicle as well, and a wallet with ID for a Rachel Martin. Twenty-five dollars and some change, so whatever this was, it wasn't a robbery. We popped the trunk and found a couple of suitcases. One with women's clothes and personal items, and one with girl's clothes and some dolls. A name on the smaller suitcase read Sadie Martin."
Michael nodded. Rachel Martin and her daughter Sadie appear to have been going somewhere with a plan to stay for a while, based on the amount of clothing and personal items they had taken with them. Palmer had searched through the contents of the handbag, looking for a cell phone. He found one, an Android, and luckily, there was no lock screen.
One call was to a Craig Lang, made the previous week.
Craig Lang.
He'd most likely be prime suspect number one.
Michael could almost write the case from past experience. Woman wanted to leave the relationship. Told the boyfriend they were leaving, and there was a confrontation. Woman left with the child, boyfriend followed, abducted them both, killed them, buried the bodies, reported them missing. Cried on camera, begging for them to come home.
He hoped that wasn't the case, but he expected the worst.
"We got local officers searching the area for any evidence they escaped on foot, but it looks like whoever did this, took them," Palmer said. "There are multiple tire tracks leading to the spot. One of our crime scene analysts is taking impressions now."
Michael nodded and glanced around. "Why would she be taking this road in the first place? She must have become lost. If she and her daughter aren't in the forest, it looks like whoever abducted her and her daughter followed her up here."
Palmer shrugged, his hand on his belt, his jacket collar pulled up against the cold. "Can't say there'd be any reason for her to be up here. This area looks like it hasn't been used for a long time."
Michael heard a shout from deeper in the forest.
"This way. Found something."
Michael and Palmer glanced at each other and then went into the forest towards the sound of the officer's voice. Michael hoped it was just some evidence and not a body or bodies, but he had to be prepared for anything.
They climbed over fallen trees and pushed through the thick undergrowth until they came to where two police officers stood, glancing down at something in the brush.
"What've you got?" Palmer asked when he arrived at the officer's side.
Michael glanced down and saw what looked like freshly-turned earth and below it, a bone.
"Looks like a body," the officer said, pointing to the rib bone sticking out from under some dirt and decaying leaves. Michael could just make out the base of a skull, a long bone that appeared to be from an arm. The body had been placed on its side in a fetal position.
"The ground is freshly disturbed," Palmer said. He bent down and pointed the dirt around the rib bone. "Someone was digging here recently. It's still wet."
"We'll have to call in a forensic team," Michael said. "That looks like an arm bone, and from the size of it, it's a child. But it can't be one of our missing persons, because there's no way a body would decompose that quickly in a week. This has been buried for much longer."
Palmer nodded in agreement. "You're right. This body's been here for more than a year."
"We'll have to get the ME from Seattle out here to check it out," Michael said. "Luckily, she doubles as a forensic anthropologist."
It wasn't the missing woman and her daughter, but it was a child who died and was buried out there in the middle of nowhere. Now, they had a new case. Another missing child, Jane or John Doe.
It felt good to be back working a crime scene, but there was a sinking feeling in Michael's gut that they'd likely found the skeletal remains of another murdered child.
"Seems like a huge coincidence that we have a missing persons case turn up here and the skeletal remains of a child within twenty feet of each other, the ground recently disturbed."
"Yep," Palmer said, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the bones. "Too big of a coincidence. It looks like someone came here specifically to dig up this grave, but only partially. Why?"
Michael shrugged. "Can't say until we learn who it is."
They spent another half-hour at the site, walking around the perimeter of the shallow gravesite, checking for evidence and waiting for the Medical Examiner to arrive. There wasn't much to find, other than a few cigarette butts and an old paper cup that had clearly been there for a long time. The technician bagged both and collected them in a larger garbage bag. Michael waited while the forensic tech placed a set of perimeter markers in the ground around the gravesite to protect it from contamination.
Michael shivered. It was cold out, that early in April, and the police officers rubbed their hands together while they waited for the ME to arrive. Once the forensic team was satisfied that they'd collected all the evidence, the tow truck operator loaded up the Ford Escape onto its truck bed and drove away, leaving Michael and Palmer to watch as it disappeared around the curve in the road.
"There's really nothing else for us to do except wait for the ME to arrive and process the scene. Are you going to head out?"
"I think I'll stay," Michael replied. "Wait to hear what the ME says. I'd like some idea of how long the body's been buried so I can start checking through missing persons cases, see what turns up that might be a match."
"Okay," Palmer said. "You're welcome to stay."
Michael nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
It was a two hour drive up to the site, so it was going to be a long day.
The ME arrived a little over two hours later. A middle-aged woman with greying hair pulled up into a bun, dark rimmed glasses and a fur-trimmed parka, she had a pleasant smile for him when he walked up to her vehicle to introduce himself.
"Grace Keller," she said and extended her hand to Michael.
"Michael Carter, investigator with the DA's office in Seattle," Michael said and shook her hand. Palmer came over and introduced himself as the lead detective on the case, then gave her the quick rundown about the scene while she put on her protective clothing, the white coveralls, hood, mask and gloves. She covered her boots with blue booties and then stood up straight. Michael and Palmer followed her over to the shallow grave, taking care to keep on the common path.
Keller bent down and examined the bones closer. "Looks like it's been here for quite a while."
"How long do you think?" Michael asked.
Keller stood up and shrugged, then began removing tools from a black bag she carried with her. She removed a camera and snapped some photos. "Given the state of the body, it could be a year, could be a decade, could be longer. Until I get a better look at it, I won't know for certain."
Michael nodded.
"One thing I can tell, which you already know, is that the scene was recently disturbed. Someone dug this up and within the last week, given the rain. The dirt's been removed around the shoulders and neck, and the rain has washed even more away. You can see the side of the skull here," Keller said and pointed with her gloved hand to the skull. Michael had noticed earlier that it was exposed.
"Do you think it was an animal who dug it up?" Michael asked.
"No. An animal would have taken the bones and we'd find more scattered around. The remains look intact. If I had to guess, I'd say that someone wanted to retrieve something from the site. Maybe something that could immediately identify it."
"Like jewelry or something else buried with the body?" Michael offered.
"Exactly." Keller smiled at Michael. Rain started to fall, the drops fine. Keller glanced up at the sky through the tall pines surrounding the site. "You gentlemen game to help me set up a tent to protect the scene?"
"I'm always glad to help," Michael offered. "But I have limited mobility of my right arm."
"I knew you'd come in handy," Palmer said jokingly and clapped Michael on the back.
"Suit up and be my assistants," Keller said.
Michael and Palmer followed Keller to her vehicle. Once there, they slipped on white coveralls that Dr. Keller handed them, then wrapped their wrists and ankles with duct tape to prevent contamination of the scene while they worked. After suiting up, Michael slipped on his hood, mask and goggles. Together, they removed the tent materials from the back of her SUV and set up the tent at the site. Michael wasn't very much help because of his arm, but he was able to contribute, and more than that, he was curious about how Keller worked. He'd been trained in the general processing of crime scenes, of course, but the way a forensic anthropologist worked was new to him.
He settled in and watched as she carefully marked out the gravesite and took photographs, before proceeding to unearth the bones. Seeing the final skeletal remains uncovered, lying in a fetal position with the hands held in front of the face made him think that the child, whoever she or he was, had been placed in that position after death, hands folded in prayer. If that was the case, it suggested that the one who buried the body had a relationship to the child. A stranger didn't pose their victims in postures implying piety and innocence.
There was a story to tell behind the death of this child, whether it was murder, accidental or even due to natural causes.
Michael was determined to tell that story so the parents and family could have closure and the killer, if any, would be brought to justice.