It was senseless to look elsewhere, as both had been present when Cynthia placed the small fragment in the cut glass enclosure. Dean wondered for a moment if Fred might have borrowed it, but dismissed the thought. The old man was careful of privacy and territory and would take nothing without first asking.
"Who could know it was here?" she asked. "We didn't tell anyone."
Dean remembered the open window and the guests gathered outside on the back patio. "Any one of them might have heard us talking about the bone. Bird Song wasn't locked and the place was empty most of today-even Maria was watching the parade. Anyone could have filched it."
Cynthia felt first anger and then violation that a thief had entered their private quarters. More importantly, Dean now realized that the only real evidence that the remains from the mine were human had disappeared.
"There's still the balance of the skeleton that Mrs. Worthington's sister has," Cynthia said when he mentioned his concern.
"I'll bet a week of dishwashing that she's dumped the bones. By the sound of it, she just wanted the trunk for storage. There'd be no point in hauling excess baggage half-way across the country in the limited space of a motor home."
"Well," Cynthia sighed, "at least we know the skeleton is real."
Yes, Dean thought, and someone else knows we know.
While the theft of the bone cast a pall on the upcoming activity, the anticipation of an outing in the mountains helped brighten their mood. They gathered ponchos and a blanket, just in case afternoon showers arrived a bit early. While the warm sun drenched them and there wasn't a cloud in sight, they'd learned from recent experience that mountain weather could blow in misery at a moment's notice and replace the sunshine with drenching, chilling rain.
As they were leaving the building, the phone rang. Dean answered it and was delighted to hear Martha's voice.
Yes, she was fine, though her tone sounded nervous and tentative. She missed them and was sorry not to have seen the parade. Patsy-ma-was okay, too, sort of. The young girl wanted to know about Fred, Maria, and Mrs. Lincoln and even asked about SB, her newly acquired stuffed owl. Cynthia scrunched close to Dean's ear, trying to hear the conversation, and offered a word or two as well.
"Have you found out who the dead man is?" Martha finally asked.
"No, but we're making progress. We were just about to go up in the mountains now. There's a woman whose husband owned the land where the mine is located and she may know something helpful," Dean told her.