The Bones Will Speak Read Online Free Page A

high, three-legged wooden structure resembling a stool with a rotating top. Using the clay, I arranged the skull into a Frankfort horizontal plane, the angle used to photograph and reconstruct faces. Adding an evidence ruler, I snapped several digital photos from different angles. “Smile. You look mahvalous, dahling.” I’m talking to a skull.
    After taking measurements of the nasal spine, I lowered my face until I was level with the skull and gently rotated the top of the stand in a clockwise circle. I should’ve studied to be a forensic anthropologist. They could look at just the skull and be eighty- to ninety-some percent sure of gender. What little I did know still made me think the remains looked female.
    I sucked in a deep breath. So, where was the rest of the body?
    Aynslee, wearing pink flannel pajama bottoms and a short T-shirt, drifted into the room. Her long, ginger-colored hair tangled below her slender shoulders.
    â€œShouldn’t you be hitting the books?” I asked. “You have an English essay due.” I’d started homeschooling my daughter last fall.
    â€œI don’t know what to write.”
    â€œYour online assignment was an analytical research paper.” I pulled out a sketchpad to jot some notes on the cranium. “You need to start by identifying the genre, topic, and audience. You could start with the audience. If they are like you, what are you interested in?”
    â€œI don’t know. Boys. Vampires . . .”
    â€œI was thinking more along the lines of academic topics,” I said dryly. “Literature? Politics? History?”
    â€œMaybe crime?” Aynslee asked.
    I blinked. “Crime?”
    Aynslee grinned. “It’s not so much that it’s interesting. I figured with all the stuff you have around here, it’d be easier to write.”
    â€œWell—”
    â€œCould I write about one of your cases?”
    â€œIt would need to be an adjudicated one.” I pointed at a three-ring binder on my shelves. “You can check through the newspaper articles in there.”
    â€œâ€™Kay.” She wandered over, pulled out the binder, and placed it on my desk. After browsing through it for a few moments, she unsnapped several pages and held them up. “I’ve found a couple. Which one should I write about?”
    â€œLeave them on the desk and I’ll look them up.”
    â€œAlso, could you look up that priest case? The one you’re supposed to get a subpoena on?”
    â€œSure, once it arrives. Why?” I moved around the skull.
    â€œJust wanted to read about it.” Her mouth stretched into a jaw-cracking yawn. “Whatcha doing?”
    â€œWorking.”
    Her eyes widened when she spotted the skull. “Is that real?”
    â€œYes. Winston found it.”
    â€œUck, gross. I’m never letting that dog lick me again.” She came closer. “What happened to him?”
    â€œHer.” I pointed to the bullet hole. “She was shot. I was just getting ready to have Winston show me where he discovered her.”
    â€œThat’s just so gross.” She started to leave, then stopped. “Are you going to have to take that”—she pointed at the skull—“that thing to Missoula or anything?”
    â€œI don’t know. Why are you asking?”
    â€œMy birthday’s coming up next week, and there’s a movie marathon starting this weekend. I could stay with Dad.”
    A hot flash rocketed up my neck and across my face. I took a quick breath and waited for it to end. Robert rented an apartment in Missoula while waiting for the completion of his new home. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, did you finish your chores?”
    â€œAlmost. Don’t think about the movie thing too long or the marathon will be over.” Aynslee started to leave, then paused. “We’ve got ants.”
    I froze. “Are you sure it’s ants? Not