NOELLE
Working at the San Antonio office of the Texas Rangers was a strange kind of pleasure. She used her pass, with its questionably acquired ID image and got into the inner sanctum of the Texas Rangers with ease.
If people looked at her, they nodded.
Some smiled.
And the officer in the evidence room was ready to receive her when she arrived. “Miss Garcia, I have a release for you to sign before you start.”
“A release?”
He handed the paper over and she looked over the three paragraphs written on the paper.
As she read it, she murmured the gist of the words written out on the paper.
“Not allowed to take the evidence out of a controlled area.” She looked up at the clerk and smiled. “So I can’t walk out of the offices with the skull under my arm or in my hand doing my best Hamlet impression?”
The clerk shook his head. “No, Miss. Remember,” he winked, “women weren’t allowed to act in Shakespeare’s plays.”
She snapped her fingers and grinned. “You’re right! I guess the skull will just have to stay here.”
He shrugged, smiling.
“I’m not allowed to..” she squinted at the words, frowning, “post pictures of the skull on social media, not limited to, but including… selfies?”
The clerk held his hands up in surrender. “I guess they think you’re a part of the Tik Tok generation?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I don’t even have social media that I maintain with any regularity. I doubt I remember my passwords or have a device that remembers them for me.”
The clerk shrugged. “My wife does, but that’s about it.”
She looked down at the third paragraph and found what she expected to read. “The techs have already sampled the skull for any kind of available dna, organic particles, or other possible evidence.” She sighed, happy. “That’s what I needed to know.” She looked up at the clerk. “The last thing I want to worry about is making things difficult for the investigation.”
She took up the pen that was chained to the counter and signed her name. She added the date before sliding the paper to the clerk on the other sides of the counter. “Could you make a copy of that for me? I’ll pick it up when I’m done for the day.”
The clerk nodded. “I’ll have it here at the desk, ready for you.”
Then he gestured to the door to his left.
“I’m going to bring the skull out through the side door and I’ll take you to the room they’ve booked for you.”
“Thanks.”
He smiled. “It’s my job, but I have to tell you, this is kind of exciting for me.”
She frowned, a little concerned. “How so?”
“My wife and I are huge fans ofBones,that TV show?”
She nodded, smiling. “I’m not an anthropologist. Just an artist.”
He shook his head. “Nojustabout it, Miss Garcia. I looked you up online and I’m crazy impressed with your work.”
When he excused himself to get the skull from the evidence room, she couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. She was proud of her work, but it was nice to hear someone give her a compliment. What she did tended to be a very solitary work life.
The roomwhere she was working was quiet and cool.
The sounds of the air conditioner was soft, but droned on and on so she took out her phone and set it on the table behind her and started her iTunes on shuffle just to give her something to listen to that wasn’t a mechanical drone.