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Back Bare Bones Save as PDF
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  37. About the Author

“And your skul is male.”

“Probably.”

“Probably?”

“My gut feeling is yes, but there’s nothing definitive about it.”

“Genderwise.”

“Genderwise.”

“But it’s not Aiker.”

“Not if we have the right dental records.”

“But the skeleton could be.”

“Not if it goes with the privy skul .”

“And you think it does.”

“It sounds like a fit. But I haven’t seen photos or the original bones.”

“Any reason Cagle might have changed his mind, started avoiding your cal s?”

“He was very cooperative when we talked.”

Now the empty air was of Slidel ’s choosing.

“You game for a little spin down to Columbia?”

“I’l be waiting on the steps.”

24

FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER LEAVING THEMCME, SLIDELL ANDIwere crossing into South Carolina. To either side of I-77 lay a border sprawl of low-end shops, restaurants, and entertainment emporia, a Carolina version of Nogales or Tijuana.

Paramount’s Carowinds. Outlet Market Place. Frugal MacDougal’s Discount Liquors. Heritage USA, abandoned now, but once a mecca for Jim and Tammy Faye’s PTL faithful intent on God, vacation, and bargain basement clothes. Opinions varied as to whether PTL had stood for Praise the Lord or Pass the Loot.

Rinaldi had opted for a trip to Sneedvil e, Tennessee, to do some digging on Ricky Don Dorton and Jason Jack Wyatt. Rinaldi also planned to run a background check on the pilot, Harvey Pearce, and was intent on a meaningful conversation with Sonny Pounder.

Jansen had headed back to Miami.

Slidel had spoken little since picking me up, preferring the sputter of his radio to the sound of my voice. I suspected his coolness derived from my homophobia crack.

OK by me, Skinny.

We were soon rol ing between heavily wooded, kudzu-draped hil s. Slidel alternated between drumming the steering wheel and patting his shirt pocket. I knew he needed nicotine, but I needed O2. Through a lot of sighing and throat clearing and drumming and patting, I refused to give the go-ahead to light up.

We passed the exits for Fort Mil and Rock Hil , later Highway 9 cutting east to Lancaster. I thought of Cagle’s headless skeleton, wondered what we would find at his lab.

I also thought of Andrew Ryan, of times we’d been rol ing toward a crime scene or body dump together. Slidel or Ryan? Who would I rather be with? No contest there.

The University of South Carolina system has eight campuses, with the mothership parked squarely in the heart of the state capital. Perhaps the Palmetto State founders were xenophobic. Perhaps funds were limited. Perhaps they simply preferred to have their offspring educated in their own backyard.

Or perhaps they foresaw the bacchanalian rite of spring break at Myrtle Beach, and tried reaching across the centuries to discourage a very different type of haj .