Cliff looked down and saw what the machine and dog had unearthed. Mixed with the rock and debris was a pile of what might have been mistaken for long white sticks layered with dirt.

But lying on the bones, inches from where Maggie had sat, was a human skull.

Chapter Four

“I’m all right.” Maggie sat at the kitchen table and gripped the glass of water Cliff had handed her. When the pain in her fingers finally registered, she relaxed them a bit. “I feel like an idiot, screaming that way.”

She was still pale, he noted. Though the hands on the glass were steady now, they were still white at the knuckles. Her eyes were wide and shocked, suddenly too big for the rest of her face. He started to stroke her hair, then stuck his own hands in his pockets. “A natural enough reaction.”

“I guess.” She looked up and managed a shaky smile. She was cold, but prayed she wouldn’t begin to shiver in front of him. “I’ve never found myself in that sort of … situation before.”

Cliff lifted a brow. “Neither have I.”

“No?” Somehow she’d wanted to think it had happened before. If it had, it might make it less horrible—and less personal. She looked down at the floor, not realizing until that moment that the dog lay across her feet, whimpering. “But don’t you dig up a lot of—” She hesitated, not sure just how she wanted to phrase it. “Things,” Maggie decided weakly, “in your line of work?”

She was reaching, Cliff thought, and whether she knew it or not, those big brown eyes were pleading with him for some sort of easy explanation. He didn’t have one to give her. “Not that kind of thing.”

Their gazes held for one long, silent moment before Maggie nodded. If there was one thing she’d learned in the hard, competitive business she’d chosen, it was to handle things as they came. “So, neither of us has a tidy explanation.” The little expulsion of breath was the last sign of weakness she intended to show him. “I guess the next step is the police.”

“Yeah.” The more determined she became to be calm, the more difficult it became for him. She was weakening something in him that he was determined to keep objective. His hands were balled into fists inside his pockets in his struggle not to touch her. Distance was the quickest defense. “You’d better call,” Cliff said briskly. “I’ll go out and make sure the crew keeps clear of the gully.”

Again, her answer was a nod. Maggie watched as he crossed to the screen door and pushed it open. There he hesitated. He’d have cursed if he’d understood what it was he wanted to swear at. When he looked back, she saw the concern on his face she’d seen when he’d spoken to Joyce. “Maggie, are you all right?”

The question, and the tone, helped her to settle. Perhaps it had something to do with her knowing just what it was like to be pressured by another’s weakness. “I will be. Thanks.” She waited until the screen door banged shut behind him before she dropped her head on the table.