cloth. Farther along there was another, and about fifty yards beyond that, a figure crouched at the base of a fire-flowered ocotillo, working at the earth with its hands.
"My colleague has already discovered three more bundles," Mondragon said, "but I suppose you already knew that."
"We were aware of two."
As they approached, Carver saw that the figure was a woman. Long dark hair pulled into a ponytail, trailing down her back from beneath a faded ball cap. Red- and blue-checked flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled past the elbows. Dirt-brown jeans. She was so involved with her work that she didn't know they were right behind her until Mondragon cleared his throat.
"Emil, who the hell was landing a helicopter out here?" she said. Turning, she rose and shielded her eyes from the sun. "It nearly blew all the sand right back over--"
Her eyes met Carver's and he blinked in surprise.
"Ellie?"
II
Sinagua Ruins
36 Miles Northeast of Flagstaff, Arizona
"Pax?" she gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "What in the world are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same."
She bounded forward and hugged him. When she withdrew, she saw that she had covered his suit in dust and started to brush it off. "I'm so sorry."
"You two know each other?" Mondragon asked.
Elliot could only stare at the man standing before her. His eyes were worn, but otherwise he hadn't changed in the slightest.
"Oh my God, Pax. How long has it been?"
"Too long." He smiled. "You look amazing."
Elliot brushed unconsciously at the dirt on her shirt.
"So do you." She looked him up and down. "Wedding or funeral?"
"Hmm?"
"The last time I saw you in a suit was our senior prom. You said the only way you'd ever put one on again was for either your wedding or your funeral." But he had said our wedding, hadn't he? A lifetime ago when they had just been kids and the future and their dreams had been indistinguishable.
"Unfortunately, this one goes with the job," he said, producing his badge and flipping it open for her to see.
"FBI? Why would you be interested in...?" Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes momentarily. "How did you figure it out?"
"The carbon dating results were flagged by our lab. You knew?"
"I had my suspicions," she said with a wan smile. "I was just really hoping I was wrong."
"Why didn't you share your concerns?" Mondragon asked. "How could you tell?"
"The hair," Elliot said. "It continues to grow even after death. I could tell the hair had been dyed by the roots. And there were a host of other details that weren't quite right." She hung her head. "I needed to look at the other bundles myself before saying anything. I had to be sure first. I so wanted this to be the discovery I've been searching for my entire career."
"I'm sorry," Carver said.
"What did the carbon dating show?"
"Since the dating is measured in half-lives, any recent sample barely registers, so the tests were only able to narrow the body to within the last ten years."
"Ten years? She's remarkably well aged. There's no way she could have been preserved so well by simple burial. And to be bundled in traditional Inca fashion? Someone would have had to go to great lengths to...That's why you're here."
Carver nodded. "Can you tell me how someone might have prepared the corpse to replicate the appearance of mummification?"
"I could tell right away that she had been smoked. She had an almost sweet smell to her."
"Smoked? Like meat?"
"It's a common method of mummification practiced for more than a thousand years. The body is suspended in a closed room over a tended fire, allowing the heat to melt the fats, which drain through the skin while the smoke dries it out."
"How long does that take?"
"There's no set recipe. A week, a month, maybe longer. It depends on a variety of factors including the desired condition of the remains and environmental factors like ambient humidity. Not only must this girl have been smoked for an
"My colleague has already discovered three more bundles," Mondragon said, "but I suppose you already knew that."
"We were aware of two."
As they approached, Carver saw that the figure was a woman. Long dark hair pulled into a ponytail, trailing down her back from beneath a faded ball cap. Red- and blue-checked flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled past the elbows. Dirt-brown jeans. She was so involved with her work that she didn't know they were right behind her until Mondragon cleared his throat.
"Emil, who the hell was landing a helicopter out here?" she said. Turning, she rose and shielded her eyes from the sun. "It nearly blew all the sand right back over--"
Her eyes met Carver's and he blinked in surprise.
"Ellie?"
II
Sinagua Ruins
36 Miles Northeast of Flagstaff, Arizona
"Pax?" she gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "What in the world are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same."
She bounded forward and hugged him. When she withdrew, she saw that she had covered his suit in dust and started to brush it off. "I'm so sorry."
"You two know each other?" Mondragon asked.
Elliot could only stare at the man standing before her. His eyes were worn, but otherwise he hadn't changed in the slightest.
"Oh my God, Pax. How long has it been?"
"Too long." He smiled. "You look amazing."
Elliot brushed unconsciously at the dirt on her shirt.
"So do you." She looked him up and down. "Wedding or funeral?"
"Hmm?"
"The last time I saw you in a suit was our senior prom. You said the only way you'd ever put one on again was for either your wedding or your funeral." But he had said our wedding, hadn't he? A lifetime ago when they had just been kids and the future and their dreams had been indistinguishable.
"Unfortunately, this one goes with the job," he said, producing his badge and flipping it open for her to see.
"FBI? Why would you be interested in...?" Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes momentarily. "How did you figure it out?"
"The carbon dating results were flagged by our lab. You knew?"
"I had my suspicions," she said with a wan smile. "I was just really hoping I was wrong."
"Why didn't you share your concerns?" Mondragon asked. "How could you tell?"
"The hair," Elliot said. "It continues to grow even after death. I could tell the hair had been dyed by the roots. And there were a host of other details that weren't quite right." She hung her head. "I needed to look at the other bundles myself before saying anything. I had to be sure first. I so wanted this to be the discovery I've been searching for my entire career."
"I'm sorry," Carver said.
"What did the carbon dating show?"
"Since the dating is measured in half-lives, any recent sample barely registers, so the tests were only able to narrow the body to within the last ten years."
"Ten years? She's remarkably well aged. There's no way she could have been preserved so well by simple burial. And to be bundled in traditional Inca fashion? Someone would have had to go to great lengths to...That's why you're here."
Carver nodded. "Can you tell me how someone might have prepared the corpse to replicate the appearance of mummification?"
"I could tell right away that she had been smoked. She had an almost sweet smell to her."
"Smoked? Like meat?"
"It's a common method of mummification practiced for more than a thousand years. The body is suspended in a closed room over a tended fire, allowing the heat to melt the fats, which drain through the skin while the smoke dries it out."
"How long does that take?"
"There's no set recipe. A week, a month, maybe longer. It depends on a variety of factors including the desired condition of the remains and environmental factors like ambient humidity. Not only must this girl have been smoked for an
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