Too bad you cut it down, though.” Jeffries turned, stuffed his hands back in his pockets, hung his head and went away muttering to himself. Climbed into his truck and drove back toward the highway.
With the exception of two deputies, the rest of the gathering began to dissolve as if to say “Seen one skeleton in a tree, seen them all.” That’s Bandon folk for ya. Takes a lot to hold their attention.
“Now what, Chief?” I asked. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much I can do.”
“Maybe not. I’d sure like to know what this is all about, though. Mind looking into it, just for the mental exercise? As usual, I can’t afford the manpower.”
“Sure.”
“What do you need?”
“It would help to get an idea of the race of the tree guy. Could be an Indian, in which case the Coquilles would want to take a look and see if it’s an historic site. Or it could be a 100 year old murder case. Maybe a satanic voodoo thing.”
“Voodoo thing?”
Sal chuckled. “Right. A voodoo thing in Coos County in the early 1900s. And herds of unicorns lived happily in the river valley, peacefully coexisting with lions and tigers, caribou and sheep.”
Jacob, still holding his chainsaw, interrupted. “Chief, you need me for anything else?”
Forte looked at me for an answer. “Well, what can we do to remove the skeleton from the tree?”
“Maybe the state police forensic people have some magic,” Forte said.
Sal cleared his throat. “Uh, guys. No magic needed. Who’s up for a bon fire?”
“Think we need some clearances or something,” I said. “Besides, we’re not in the Chief’s jurisdiction out here.”
“No sweat. I’ll call the Sheriff. Make a deal. The way the county’s budget is, he can’t afford the manpower either. Especially for a 100 year old dead body.”
He looked across the soon-to-be fairway. “This is gonna be another great course, you know?”
And that it would be. Bandon Dunes and the four sister courses were carved out of what was once gorse-riddled scrub forest not worth a timber company’s time or energy. High on the bluffs overlooking the Pacific, years of bureaucratic hurdles overcome, each was considered a masterpiece.
“Dunes does it right,” I said. “But there’s got to be some environmental or other B.S. hoops to jump.”
Sal smiled. “Got it handled.” He walked a dozen yards away, pulled out his cell phone and after five minutes returned, still smiling.
Within 60 seconds Forte’s phone buzzed. Flipping it open, “Chief Forte… Sure commissioner… Will do.”
He looked at Sal and me. “We’re lead on this and those bureaucratic hoops? There are none. The commissioner and Sheriff have signed off. So has DEQ.”
I turned to Sal. “Called one of your CIA buddies, huh?”
“Never was CIA. Nor would I ever be,” the big man responded, a faint chuckle in the tone.
Turning to Jacob, “Buck me some three-footers, square as you can. I’ll get my pickup and we’ll have us a bon fire.”
It took about an hour to load the five short logs into the back of the pickup and unload them at Willow Weep.
Jacob’s cuts, from the look at the skeleton, were roughly above the pelvis, just below the arm pits and a good two feet above where we figured the skull would be. I was glad Karl the reporter had returned to town rather than taking photos of what would appear to be desecration of a skeleton. But Sal’s plan was a good one and expedient.
We stacked the logs on a small pile of dry pine splits and ignited them. Since the fire wouldn’t be hot enough to destroy the bones, we were fairly certain we could salvage and reassemble the skeleton after the wood had burned off. But this was an old, hardwood tree so it would take time. Meanwhile, Sal and I took the Vic to town for a late breakfast.
Across from each other at the Eatin’ Station, eggs, bacon and toast along with our fourth cup of coffee, I asked, “What’s with Tatiana and you?”
Sal leaned back, wiped his beard with a napkin.
“Her visa is up next week. She’s heading home to Mother Russia.”
That was a stunner for me because the two of them had become as tight as a sailor’s knot.
“Can’t you pull some strings?”
“Not sure she wants me to, Nick. She’s homesick.” Taking a pull from his coffee mug, “Besides, you know me. I like living in the woods. She’s a Moscovite city girl. I like kicking back and watching you count trees. She loves her work and being in the thick of things. Let’s face it, there’s little call for a secret agent in Bandon.” The big man sighed. “It’s been fun, though.”
Sal and I have been friends since grade school and long-ago learned to offer advice sparingly if at all. I just nodded and let restaurant sounds of rattling plates, unintelligible conversations and an occasional cash register ding fill the void until he felt like talking.
“Besides,” he finally said, “Tatiana tells me Cookie is heading back to Chicago for the rest of the season so now you won’t feel like a third wheel.”
Our mutual misery was interrupted with the harsh nasal clatter of Bo Jangles’ voice. His name’s not my fault. Blame his mother.
“Nick! Is it true? Is it true you found an Indian IN a tree? Like buried in a tree? God, Nick, you have the coolest job. You really found someone in a tree? You’re the best detective in the world, Nick! Really!”
“Whoa, Bo. Take it slow.” The small man, who looked and sounded like Joe Pesci in Lethal Weapon 2 had become my new best friend after Sal and I helped retrieve his 1955 Thunderbird earlier in the year.
“How’d you hear about that and, by the way, we don’t know if it was a Native American and third, I didn’t find the skeleton, Jacob Cobb did.”
“Jake? Really? I’ve gotta talk to him. This is so cool!” Bo spun and nearly flew out of the restaurant.
“Word gets around a small town, Nick.”
At least it broke the melancholy. But it also brought another customer to the table. I watched as an older woman, slim, gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, baggy sweatshirt hanging to mid-thigh covering stone washed jeans, stood from her table and headed toward ours. Her face was tanned but her eyes were squinting as if she had forgotten her glasses.
“Excuse me, did I just hear that man say you found a skeleton in a tree?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“That’s really strange. When I was a little girl, my brother found a skeleton in a tree. We called
