Her Mother’s Grave

Chapter Five

Moss Gardens sat on top of a hill behind the city park, a collection of about two dozen trailer homes spread far enough apart that if you screamed, your neighbors might not hear you. Josie knew this to be true.

When she had lived there, the entrance was marked by a large boulder by the side of the road with the words Moss Gardens emblazoned on it in black calligraphy. Today, the boulder was overshadowed by a wrought-iron archway that announced the name of the park in large, ornate letters. Beyond it, Josie saw that the drab brown trailers of her youth had all either been replaced or refurbished. The park held none of the dreariness she remembered. Almost all the trailers were brightly painted and well kept; some even had potted plants outside. She knew it was meant to feel welcoming, but knowing what she did about the place made the vibrant colors and homey touches seem garish and unnerving.

She passed the lot where her childhood home had once been. The trailer she’d lived in with her parents had long since been removed—or torn down—and now the nearest resident was using the space for extra parking. A few pipes that poked from the yellowed grass were the only sign that anyone had once resided there.

Toward the back of the park was a wooded valley that lay between the trailer park and one of Denton’s working-class neighborhoods. There was no marked path, but Josie remembered a shoulder-width break in the brush where the local kids trampled the tall weeds to cut through. At the very back of the park, beyond the last row of trailers, was a paved one-lane road that ran alongside the edge of the woodland. Josie spotted Noah’s department-issue SUV parked in one of the driveways. Two patrol cars sat in the middle of the road, their front ends facing the old path like arrows. As she pulled past, Josie saw the metal gate with a No Entry sign across the opening. She remembered the day the gate and sign were installed. It was shortly after her father had walked down that very path and put a bullet in his head.

Unfortunately for the landowner, a No Entry sign in Denton was generally considered to be an invitation to explore, and Josie and her late husband, Ray, had spent the majority of their childhood in those very woods. They should have felt afraid in the dark, dangerous woodland, but compared to their respective homes, the forest had offered a sacred and much needed respite. It wasn’t cold, but Josie felt a chill envelop her as she parked behind the medical examiner’s small white pickup truck and got out of her vehicle.

Josie was relieved to see that news of the discovery hadn’t spread, and no nosy neighbors lolled about the perimeter of the scene, craning their necks for something to gossip about. Only Noah and some of Josie’s other officers stood along the road—Hiller next to his patrol car, Wright guarding the gate. They nodded to her as she approached Noah, who leant up against the other patrol car, his notepad and pen in hand.

“What’ve you got?” Josie asked.

Noah pointed to the backseat of the cruiser. “Couple of kids playing in the woods found some bones.”

Josie peered through the window into the backseat of the cruiser, where the faces of two young boys stared back at her. They couldn’t be older than ten or eleven, twelve at the most. They both had dark eyes and brown hair—one short and spiked, the other nearly covering his eyes. Both were covered in mud.

“Gretchen went to get their mom,” Noah said. “Apparently their dad is no longer in the picture.”

“They’re brothers?”

Noah nodded.

“Who called it in?”

“One of the neighbors. Barbara Rhodes. She watches the boys while their mom works at the Denton Diner. She let them play in the woods. When she called them in for dinner, one of them was carrying what we think is a jawbone. She called 911.”

Josie looked back at the boys. The long-haired boy stared back at her, chin jutted forward in defiance. His eyes, wide with fear, told another story. Beside him, his brother chewed on his fingernails. “Where’s the jawbone now?” she asked.

“Gretchen took it into evidence,” he replied. “The evidence response team is down there now with Dr. Feist processing the scene.”

“The neighbor?”

He gestured toward the last row of trailers. “Third one from the left, number twenty-seven. The white one. I took her statement and sent her back home. The fewer people out here, the better.”

Josie nodded, glad they didn’t have to contend with a crowd of onlookers—at least not yet. The sound of a car drew their attention. Gretchen’s Chevy Cruze turned a corner and pulled up behind Josie’s vehicle. Before the car even came to a stop, a woman dressed in black jeans and a polo shirt with a matching black apron leapt out of the passenger’s side and ran toward Josie and Noah. The long-haired boy pressed a hand against the window of the cruiser, and Josie reached back and opened the door. The boys tumbled out in a pile of gangly limbs and raced toward their mother. She swept them up in a tight hug, kissing both their heads and then studying their faces one by one. The younger, short-haired boy looked relieved. His brother did not. Josie, Noah, and Gretchen met the three of them in the middle of the road.

Gretchen introduced the woman. “This is Maureen Price, the boys’ mother. I explained to her that we can’t talk to her boys without her permission.”

Maureen squeezed the long-haired boy’s shoulder. “This is Kyle, my oldest. He’s twelve, and this is Troy. He’s eleven.” She smiled tightly. “Irish twins,” she explained.

Up close, Josie could see Maureen was quite young, probably not even thirty-five. There was something familiar about her round face and clear blue eyes. Her chestnut-colored hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Josie wondered if she’d gone to Denton East High School. She would have been a few years ahead of Josie and Ray.

“Chief Quinn,” Josie said, extending a hand. “This is Lieutenant Fraley. Why don’t you boys tell us what happened?”

Maureen looked down at their two heads, their thin bodies wedged against hers. “I thought I told you two to stay out of those woods.”

“Aww Mom,” Troy said. “It’s boring at Mrs. Rhodes’s house.”

“What were you guys doing in there?” Noah asked.

“Playing,” Kyle answered. His eyes were still wide and wary.

Troy jumped away from his mom and mimicked holding a rifle, spinning around and squinting one eye as though he were looking through the sights. “We were playing war!”

“War?” Gretchen asked.

Maureen rolled her eyes and tried to gather Troy back to her side. “They’ve been watching the military channel. They’re obsessed.”

Noah raised a brow. “The military channel?”

Troy said, “We wanted to make foxholes. Like in the World Wars.”

Josie glanced at his older brother, but he said nothing. “Where did you get the shovels?” she asked.

“Mrs. Rhodes,” Troy said.

Finally, Kyle spoke. “We borrowed her gardening shovels. She said it was okay.”

Maureen chewed her bottom lip. “Boys, really. You shouldn’t be bothering Mrs. Rhodes with stuff like that. Why can’t you just play video games till I get home?”

Josie said, “How many foxholes did you dig?”

“Three,” answered Troy. “We stopped when we found the, you know, bones.”

“How far down?” Josie asked, looking directly at Kyle.

The older boy shrugged. “When we stand in them, they come up to about here.” He pointed to his solar plexus. So, a few feet down.

“Which one of you decided to bring one of the bones home?” Noah asked.

From the flush of young Troy’s face, Josie knew it had been him. Neither boy answered. Maureen gave them each a stern look. “Boys, you answer the policeman.”

“You’re not in any trouble,” Gretchen told them. “We’re just trying to put together exactly what happened.”

Troy looked to his brother, but Kyle’s gaze had dropped to the asphalt. With a sigh, he said, “It was my idea. I didn’t think Mrs. Rhodes would believe us. But as soon as I showed her, she called 911 and told us to stay away from the woods.”

“Did one of you show Detective Palmer where the body was when she got here?” Josie asked.

Both boys nodded, and haltingly, Kyle raised a hand.

“Lieutenant Fraley tells me the piece of the skeleton you brought back was a jaw bone,” Josie said. “Tell me, was it loose already? Separated from the skull? Or did you break it off?”

The two boys looked at one another. The older brother chewed on the nail of one of his index fingers.

“It’s okay either way,” Josie told them. “Even if you broke it off, you won’t be in trouble. We just need to know so that we can tell what happened to these bones before, and after, you uncovered them. You understand?”

Young Troy nodded. “You want to make sure the killer didn’t do it!” he exclaimed.

His mother swatted his shoulder. “Troy!”

“It’s okay,” Josie said. “We don’t actually know what happened, but it helps us to figure it out if we know all the details.”

“We snapped it off,” Kyle said, his tone flat. He looked at his feet. “Sorry.”

Gretchen smiled at them. “It’s fine,” she assured them. “Thank you for telling the truth.”

She pulled a business card out and gave it to Maureen. Addressing the boys, she said, “If you think of anything else that might be important, you can give me a call. You will have to stay out of those woods though, at least until we’re finished gathering evidence, okay?”

“That means no more foxholes,” Maureen told her children pointedly. She grabbed Troy by his collar and pushed him along, toward their trailer. Josie guessed it was the one next to Mrs. Rhodes’s trailer with two bicycles propped against its side.

Once the three of them were inside the trailer, Gretchen clapped her hands together and looked at Noah and Josie. “Let’s go see what Dr. Feist has unearthed.”