Marge opened her satchel and took out an array of tools. “I always wanted to be an archaeologist.”

“Don’t think you’re going to find Cro-Magnon man here.”

“I’ll settle for anything that doesn’t move when I exhume it.”

Decker smiled, then lowered himself onto his knees, feeling the ground with a gloved hand. Within moments, he had sunk a couple of inches into the slime. He knee-walked backward until he felt the ground wasn’t going to swallow him up. “I think Ginger’s on the money. Feel the ground right in front of me. See how soft and muddy it is compared to where I’m kneeling.”

“You’re right.” Marge sighed. “Dirt over here is much looser.”

“Like it was dug up and turned over and tamped back into place.”

“I didn’t see a mound.”

“Rain could have evened out the topology. I’m telling you, this is turned-up soil. We’ve got a grave here.”

“Should we call in the experts?”

Decker said, “Maybe we should try it ourselves first. Could be as innocuous as someone having a funeral for their pet.” Decker felt the ground again, trying to outline the perimeter by touch. Just by quick feel, the soft area seemed around four by four. Who knew how deep. Maybe someone buried a mastiff. “Give me the trowel. I’ll start out slowly.”

Marge handed him the trowel.

Carefully, Decker started unearthing the mud. As soon as he dug out earth, the depression filled with silted water. It was like digging sand at the seashore.

“I need a siphon.”

“I can get us some straws at the local Jack-in-the-Box.”

“Did we bring a hose?”

“No such luck.”

Decker tried to bail out water with his hands. “I can’t see a fucking thing.”

Marge pulled off his cap. “Why don’t you sacrifice this to the cause?”

Decker looked at her, at the cap. He took it and began scooping muddy water from his hole. He dug, he removed water, more water came to take its place. Twenty minutes later, sodden with sludge, he stopped.

“My hands are freezing. My fingers are numb.”

“My turn to slime fish.” Marge knelt and stuck her hands into the icy slosh. “I feel something down there.”

“There’re lots of rocks.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s what they are. Give me the pail.”