Bending, Stevitch picks up the skull, weighing it in his hands. “The pronounced supraorbital ridge isn’t foolproof, but at this early stage and without looking at the hip bones, I can say with relative certainty that the deceased was probably male.” He gives Doc Coblentz a nod of approval. “As far as how old they are…” He shrugs. “… Ten years is a solid estimate. But until I get them cleaned up and under some decent light, I’m afraid I can’t narrow it down any more than that.”

I glance at Tomasetti. “What’s the usual procedure for manner and cause of death in a situation like this?”

“The FA does the excavation,” he tells me. “Then we send everything over to the local morgue, where the coroner as well as a forensic osteology expert will take a look. We’ve got a guy from Lucas County on our resource list.”

“John Harris,” Doc Coblentz chimes in. “I know him. John and I went to med school together. He’s good. One of the best.”

Tomasetti nods. “From there, we’ll ship everything down to the University of North Texas Health Science Center in Fort Worth to see if they can extract mitochondrial DNA.”

Something sinks inside me when I realize a definitive ID is, indeed, going to take some time. I look at Dr. Stevitch. “Is there any way you can tell me how old he was when he died?”

“Again, anything definitive is premature at this point, but I might be able to give you a range.” He runs his finger across the top of the skull, from front to back. “See this squiggly line that runs the length of the skull?”

I move closer. “I do.”

“That’s the sagittal suture.” Using his finger, he taps another barely discernible ridge of bone, this time from left to right. “This one is the coronal suture. Neither are fused, which tells me this person was relatively young.”

“How young?”

“Are you comfortable with a guess?”

“If it’s a good one.” I smile at him.

“I’d say between sixteen and thirty-five.” He spreads his hands. “I’m sure Doctor Harris will be able to give you a more definitive answer.”

I motion toward the femur. “Height or weight?”

“I’m afraid not, Chief Burkholder.” But he grins.

Stevitch goes back to work. I step away from the scene and call Lois.

“Hi, Chief.”

“I want you to pull all open missing person reports for Holmes County that are ten years or older. Go back forty years. We’re looking for a male sixteen to thirty-five years of age. If you strike out with Holmes County, expand your search to Coshocton and Wayne Counties. If you’re still not getting anything, add Cuyahoga County.”

“Will do.”

I pause. “Everything okay there?”

“Phones are ringing off the hook. Some of the folks without power are starting to get antsy. And people are finding out about the bones and starting to call with questions.”

“Word travels fast.”

“You know kids and technology. Half the town knows by now.”