The forest bordering Lake Whatcom was old, the brush thick on the forest floor. For years, people had been hiking there, wearing numerous paths along the border, but they avoided the deepest part of the wood where it was dark and dense.
That Tuesday morning, George and Betty Marshall took their dog Rex for a hike, expecting that it would be a nice way to get some exercise. In town for a visit with their daughter Virginia and her husband, George didn't want to be too sedentary, so after he and Betty ate breakfast in the cabin they'd rented for the week near Agate Bay, they decided to take Rex out for some exercise. A hike would build up George's strength, which had been failing on and off for the past few months due to a back injury. Some activity first thing in the morning always seemed to make him more flexible for the rest of the day.
They usually kept Rex on a short leash, but that morning, he wanted to run after so long in the car. After hiking for about fifteen minutes along one of the established paths, they came to a large opening in the forest where trees had been cleared out. George leaned down to remove the leash from Rex's collar.
"There's a good boy," he said and rubbed Rex's head affectionately before unclasping the leash. "Don't go too far."
"Should you let him off?" Betty asked, frowning with concern. "There might be bears."
"We've made enough noise to scare any bear off. The ones around here are small black bears. They don't want any trouble and usually run in the opposite direction when they hear humans or dogs."
Betty shrugged, but her expression said she was unconvinced. She glanced up at the sky. "Hope it doesn't rain."
"We'll be fine. Forecast said no rain for an hour or so."
Rex took off as soon as he felt the leash release and sprinted straight across the clearing. An Australian cattle dog, he was high energy and needed some kind of physical activity to keep from chewing up the furniture. They had to leave him alone in the cabin because their daughter had cats as pets and the three of them didn't get along. A good run would relax him for the rest of the morning.
They stood at the edge of the clearing and watched Rex running around, nose to the ground, intent on tracking something — probably a small animal who had recently passed by.
Then, while they watched, he took off towards the edge of the forest.
"Rex!" Betty called out, her voice anxious. "Oh, George, I told you he should stay on the leash."
George said nothing. Rex was smart and usually obedient, but today, he was onto something that held his interest. Once Rex arrived at the edge of the forest, he disappeared and so George and Betty walked as fast as they could to follow him, calling out his name as they did, but neither was very young anymore and running was out of the question.
"Darn it," Betty said, huffing and puffing beside George. "You shouldn't let him off the leash in the middle of the forest!"
George didn't answer. There was no use. After forty years of marriage, he had learned that Betty was always right — even when she was wrong. That way, peace reigned. This time, of course, she was right.
He should have kept Rex on the leash.
They passed the spot where Rex had stopped to smell something, and George leaned down.
"What's that?" he asked and pointed to a shiny object in the dirt.
He didn't want to stop, but due to a rare break in clouds, sunlight glinted off the object, catching his attention. He bent down and fingered it. Tiny gold and silver coins hung off a chain.
"It's an earring." He handed it to Betty and kept going. "Rex!"
They both called out to Rex, frantic in case he ran so far ahead that he emerged on one of the side roads that bordered the forest.
By the time they reached the edge of the clearing, George saw something else — a glint in the sunlight that made him bend down. Another earring, just like the first.
While he was no investigator, it seemed to George that some woman had dropped the earrings deliberately. Perhaps as she ran across the clearing being chased by something or someone. Was she dropping her earrings to leave clues? Or maybe to find her way back?
"Here's another one." He held it up for Betty to see.
"Two? That's strange. I could see one falling off accidentally, but two?"
He handed the earring to Betty. "Maybe she dropped them on purpose."
She raised her eyebrows but said nothing else. He already knew what she was thinking.
Someone had left the earrings almost like leaving clues to their whereabouts.
"Rex!" George called out, anxious now that the dog might be too far ahead of them.
They both entered the cool dimness of the woods, glancing around in hopes of seeing Rex but all they saw were trees and brush, the sunlight dappling the forest floor. There was no trail to follow where they entered, and the going was hard. George led the way, hoping to make it easier for Betty, who was recovering from a sore hip. She'd wrenched it during a game of lawn bowling back home west of San Francisco where George had retired from a job as a software engineer.
"You stay here. I'll go in farther."
He glanced at Betty to see her response. Her face was flushed pink from exertion and the unusual mid-day heat for that time of year. April in Washington was usually on the cooler side compared with San Francisco. It would be good for Betty to get out of the sun for a few moments.
"Rex!" George called as he went deeper into the woods. Behind him, Betty called out as well. About twenty yards into the forest, he found Rex, standing over something, an object in his mouth.
"Rex! There you are, old boy."
He walked over to where Rex stood, his head down. Rex's stance was almost protective, like he was trying to keep George from taking away what he was holding. Rex did that with a favorite toy back home, but it was always a game meant to encourage George or Betty to try to take away the object and pull.
This time, Rex actually seemed possessive towards the object. He must have a dead animal in his mouth but from his point of view, George couldn't tell. Once, when Betty had bought Rex one of those 'dinosaur' bones, which was nothing more than a thigh bone from a steer, Rex had actually avoided George when he tried to take it away. It had been the only time Rex had been actually disobedient about food or a toy. They never gave him another bone like that for it brought out the predator in him.
"What have you got there?" George said softly. He bent down and tried to examine the object more closely.
It was a bone, stained dark in places, but clearly a bone. From the length of it, it looked like a leg bone depending on what kind of animal it belonged to.
"Now, where'd you get that?"
Rex stood there like a good boy, wagging his tail. On his part, George went over to where Rex had been standing. A tree had fallen and beneath it, George could just make out a lump of something colorful. Rex had dug out the dirt from around the base of the fallen tree. George bent down and examined the cavity, then stood up abruptly.
A body.
"Holy mother of God," he said, bending down to take a closer look, his heart pounding. It appeared to be a girl based on the long fair hair attached to a mostly bare skull. There was no face, for the skin had decayed to reveal the grayish-white bone. Based on the clothing, she was a young girl. A pale blue parka overtop a pink nightgown. The rest of the body was skeletal, the bones disarticulated from the looks of it. She looked young. Maybe twelve. Rex must have caught the scent and dug up enough dirt and leaves to uncover the body. He'd taken what looked like a bone from the girl's leg.
"What is it?" Betty asked when she arrived, huffing and puffing from struggling through the underbrush.
"A body," George said and waved at Betty. "We'll have to call 9-1-1. Better stay back. Don't want to disturb the crime scene."
"A body?" Behind him, Betty gasped.
"Appears to be a young girl from the clothing she was wearing. Looks like she was buried under the tree."
"You think it's a murder?"
"Don't know for sure. Could be she got lost and took shelter under the tree, but Rex dug her out, so it looks like someone covered her up. We found those two earrings in the clearing. I bet they belong to the girl. She may have dropped them on purpose. You know, like Hansel and Gretel."
"Oh, dear," Betty said and covered her mouth. "How old do you think she is?"
"Hard to tell, but young. Maybe twelve."
George stood up and glanced around. "Hope my cellular's working," he said and took out his phone. He checked the bars on the screen. Bad reception. "I've got to find a spot where the reception's better."
He hooked the leash on Rex's collar and managed to take the bone away from him, offering him a jerky treat instead from his jacket pocket. Rex happily took the treat, and George placed the bone back beside the body.
"Let's go find some cellular coverage. Virginia said I should get a better provider, but I didn't want to pay the extra cost. That'll teach me."
He took Betty's hand and together, they walked out of the woods and back into the clearing. Once outside the forest, his reception was better.
"There," he said and showed Betty. "I got a bar. I'll call the police." He handed the dog's leash to Betty and dialed 9-1-1, waiting on the line for the dispatcher to answer.
"This is George Marshall," he said when the woman asked what his emergency was. He couldn't help but be formal on the phone. "I need the police. We found a body in the forest east of Lake Whatcom. Looks like a young girl."
After a few questions, he was transferred to the Bellingham police department and provided his information. He gave them directions to the general area, and they waited for police to arrive.
"Hand me those earrings," he said to Betty. She reached into her pocket and pulled them out as he requested. "I'll give them to the police. They're evidence." George was used to taking control in public and Betty seemed happy to oblige him.
Then, they stood hand in hand, waiting for the police to arrive, Rex standing beside them, his tail wagging.
"The paper said something about a missing girl from Seattle being seen in the area," Betty said. "Do you think this is her?"
"Could be," he said, rubbing her hand with his thumb. "What did the paper say?"
"A girl went missing from Seattle six months ago this week," Betty said, her expression sad. She shook her head. "There were reports she was seen in Bellingham and police held a news conference about it with pictures of the girl. Apparently, she went to the mall in a notorious area of Seattle and was never seen again. They figured she ran away. Bad home life, I guess. The article said that the child sex trade works out of malls, looking for girls. The men trick them with promises of modeling careers, drug them, and then take them to these hotel rooms or flop houses and rape them, beat them into submission. Then, they sell them into the trade. Someone saw her on a surveillance camera in a 7-11 in Bellingham a week after she went missing."
George exhaled. "Good God. What kind of world is this? I'm glad Ginny moved out of Seattle."
He'd heard stories of runaways getting caught up in drugs and the sex trade, but it was hard to believe. He hoped that wasn't the case with this girl, but if she was murdered, that was a likely scenario. That or some sicko serial killer got her. The Seattle area was notorious for serial killers. It had Bundy and Ridgeway, and the Green River Killer. Betty was a big true crime fan and they’d watched dozens of episodes of Forensic Science.
They waited in the clearing and in about twenty minutes, a police officer arrived, waving at them when he saw them. While George watched, the officer spoke into his radio and walked over, his hand on his belt.
"Mr. Marshall?" the officer asked.
"That's me. This is my wife, Betty."
The officer nodded and introduced himself as Officer Graham. "Can you take me to the general area? Detectives from the Bellingham PD are on their way."
"Sure thing," George said and handed Betty Rex's leash once more. "I'll take the officer to the body."
Betty nodded, a look of relief on her face. He knew she didn't want to go back inside the woods.
George turned and pointed towards the forest. "It's in here about twenty yards. We were taking a hike and found these in this clearing," he said and handed the officer the two earrings. "They were discarded one in the middle and one closer to the edge of the clearing where we're standing. Almost like the girl dropped them on purpose so she'd be found or something."
Officer Graham removed a small paper bag from his pocket and placed the earrings inside.
"Can you take me to where you found the body?" Officer Graham asked after he tucked the small bag into his pocket.
"Sure," George said and led him over to the fallen log inside the woods. "My dog must have caught the scent and dug under the tree. He got one of the bones and brought it over to us. That's when we found her. Here," he said and pointed beneath the log to the depression where the body had been buried.
Graham bent down and looked under the fallen tree. He shone a small flashlight into the crevice. "I see her," he said. "Thanks. We should leave the scene, so we don't destroy any evidence."
"Sorry, but we had no idea that there was a body there. My dog found it and dug up this bone." He pointed to the bone which lay beside the tree. "I'm afraid I touched it so my prints will be on it."
"That's okay," Graham said. "You had to get it from your dog. We should wait in the clearing for the detectives. They'll want to talk to you. In the meantime, I'll take your report."
"Sure," George said and followed the officer out of the woods back to where Betty stood with Rex.
Within ten minutes, the detectives arrived, entering the clearing from the same path George and Betty had taken. Two men, one in his fifties with greying hair slicked back and dark glasses, a brown overcoat on against the chill. The other was younger, with dark hair and a goatee. He looked to be in his early thirties and wore a black overcoat.
It rained a lot in Washington State. Raincoats seemed to be part of the scenery, especially in winter and spring.
When the two detectives finished taking their statement, George led Betty and Rex out of the clearing back down the path to the road and their cabin facing the lake.
"What a way to start a holiday," George said when they settled into the car, driving to Virginia's.
"It's so terrible," Betty said. "Such a young girl. Detective Brandt said the girl was only twelve. This world is a terrible place."
"That it is," he said, a shudder of disgust running through him at the thought of men taking a girl that young and murdering her. "We've been lucky. Nothing bad like that ever happened to Ginny."
Beside him, Betty nodded and took his hand.
As they drove down North Shore Road towards Virginia's place on the other side of Bellingham, the rain started falling.
"This'll make work miserable for the police and forensic team," Betty said, clucking her tongue.
George nodded, glancing up at the sky through the windshield. He imaged the police team erecting a white tent to cover the location, the forensic officers dressed in white.
"Nasty business."
He decided to read up on the case once he got to Virginia's, using her computer. He didn't want any gory details, but he couldn't shake the image of the poor girl’s skeletal remains from his mind's eye. He'd make sure to light a candle in her memory and say a prayer for her the next time he went to church.
It was the least he could do.