Free Dead Floating Lovers by Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli Page B

I-75, almost to West Branch, before she finally opened her mouth.
    “They found another one,” she said, half growling at me as she stared out the window at the woods.
    “Another what?”
    “Another skeleton. In the lake.”
    “What!”
    “Yup. Brought in divers. Found this one farther out, held down by a cement block with ropes tied around it.”
    “So …” I needed time to think. A lot happening all at once. I would have to get ahold of Bill, call the state police, maybe get out there and take photos of something or other. But a deeper thing nagged at me. Another skeleton …
    “A man,” Dolly said, voice low and sulky. “Medical examiner’s pretty sure about that. Teeth—first and second molars. And other stuff. The chief said they measure the pelvis and long bones. I kept asking ’cause they could be wrong. I’m still hoping they’re wrong.”
    “You don’t think … ?”
    “Who the hell else would it be? That’s why nobody’s heard from him, why he never came home. Gotta be Chet.”
    “Geez, Dolly. I’m so sorry …”
    “Yeah. You know what that makes me, don’t you?” Her upper teeth clamped down on her lower lip as if these were words she didn’t want to let out.
    “Makes you?”
    She nodded hard. “Makes me a widow.”
    “Well, I guess. Sort of.”
    “A widow. Barely a wife.” She shook her head. “Said he was shot in the head, too. Like the other one. Two murders. And something else. They think the first bones were Indian. An Indian girl. Pathologist’s sure about it. They got ways to figure that out.”
    “Old? Maybe it’s all a mistake. Nothing to do with Chet.”
    “Not new—with all the flesh gone. But not fossilized either. I’ll bet they come up with about thirteen years.”
    “If she was Indian, the tribe will want her back.”
    “One of the Odawa was there to see Lucky already. Says they want her immediately. Has to be reburied right away according to their religion.”
    “But if it’s murder … ?”
    “He told ’im. They won’t get anything back until the investigation is over.”
    “Lucky say if they had any idea who did this?”
    She made a noise and looked out her window. “No. Course not. He doesn’t even know it could be Chet.”
    “Geez, Dolly, it’s time.”
    She snapped her head around to look directly at me. Her eyes flashed something I hadn’t seen there before. Maybe this one day had finally extracted more than she could tolerate; maybe it was more of Dolly’s “family” thing; whatever she was shooting at me, I had the feeling we were back in deep shit together.
    “I’ve got to think it out first. Oh God, I’ll have to call his sister. We’ll have to bury him.”
    “You don’t know anything for sure,” I said. “Anyway, he walked out on you, Dolly. Let his sister and mother handle the funeral. They’ll want him buried down by them.”
    Dolly tucked her chin into her neck. “Chet was my husband, Emily. I’ll see to him in death the way I did in life. And I’m not going to let some murdering creep get away with killing my very own husband in my very own town.”
    When she sniffed I knew she was crying.
    “You just watch and see if I do,” she muttered, then sniffed again. “I’ve got things to figure out first. Like who she was. Wish I’d noticed more when I saw ’em together at The Skunk. All I did was see the dog tags and get so mad I stormed out. In the morning he was gone. Clothes gone. Spurs gone. Truck gone. Hunting rifle—gone. Nothing left of him at all. Like he never existed. Just swept right out of my life. Without my dog tags, well, there was nothing but a dirty coffee cup of his in the kitchen and some hairs in the bathroom sink. Still got the coffee cup. Just the way it was. Had to wash out the bathroom sink but I kept some of those whiskers in an envelope.
    “Guess we gotta know who she was,” she said, talking to herself, words half staying in her mouth. She dug a Kleenex out of her pocket and blew her