Skeletons

Chapter 1

Goren and Eames stood in front of the excavated body, a skeleton in clothing that had been uncovered by renovators earlier in the day. A forensic team had carefully removed the dirt surrounding the body, working as carefully as archaeologists, with brushes, reverently bringing the body back to the light of day.

"Advanced decomp," Goren muttered.

Well, duh, Eames thought. While some of the clothing was still intact, the skeleton appeared to have little to no meat on it. "Female," Alex said.

Bobby turned to her in surprise.

"I know the label on the shirt. Adella, fine women's clothing." She bent down and with her gloved hands turned the fabric slightly, revealing the entire logo. He nodded appreciatively.

One of the local detectives was hanging close by. Bobby waved him over. "So what's the story?"

"The owners were going to expand the basement, big plans for a party room, bar, you know, the works. Anyway, they cut through this section of the wall and found out somebody'd had the idea before. This section was already part way dug out, then had been closed up again."

"I wonder who she was," Alex said. She looked around at the dirt that was still up to her shoulders in some places. "I wonder how long she's been buried here."

"The Trents just bought the house last summer. Prior to that, it was owned a year by Brent Charles, and it sat vacant the last two months before the Trents bought it. Prior to Charles, it was owned and occupied for 6 years by Clay Tungstall."

"THE Clay Tungstall?"

"Eames. Really. How many people could there possibly be with that name?"

She smiled at his humor and picked up her phone. After a moment's conversation, she hung up and said. "That was Rodgers. She's ready for us."

"Female, approximately 35 years old. She's given birth at least once. I'd say she's been dead between three and five years."

Bobby and Alex shared a knowing glance. "Cause of death?" Bobby asked.

"Not much to go on," Rodgers said. "But I did find a nick on her C7."

Alex gave her a confused look. "C7?"

"Cervical vertebrae." To illustrate, Rodgers ran her finger across her gullet. Both detectives nodded with comprehension. "Two digits on her left hand were broken, as well, the pinkie and the ring finger."

"Her clothes?" Alex asked.

"Trace picked them up an hour ago, what was left of them."

"Anything identifying?"

"Checking dental records."

They thanked the doctor and headed back to the squad room. Alex stopped by the elevator doors and told Bobby, "I'm going to check in with trace. Maybe you can find out what Senator Tungstall was doing to his basement three to five years ago."

They turned the corpse over to an artist for facial reconstruction, in the event they couldn't identify her otherwise. With the help of the CSU crew in trace, Alex was able to identify the clothing and find them in catalogs. They were pricy: designer wear.

In the meantime, Bobby had secured an appointment for them with former state Senator Clay Tungstall first thing the next morning. They still hadn't heard about the dental records. There was nothing more to do but call it a night.

Alex knew she wouldn't make her usual jog in the morning, so she decided to end her night with a jog instead. She burst into the apartment, covered in sweat and breathing hard. She tossed her keys down, helped herself to a bottle of water, and hit the shower.

Bobby arrived at his dark and quiet apartment well after dinner. He'd eaten at Luchese's again, chicken alfredo for the third time this week. He emptied his pockets and pulled a bottle down from the cabinet. He poured himself a drink, and sat down to sort through his mail. It occurred to him that Alex might go for a run. He worried about her when she ran at night, not because she couldn't take care of herself, but because he knew the city. He knew of too many victims who had simply met with the improbable. He picked up his phone and called her.

"Hello?" Alex answered in a sing-song voice.

"Did you run?"

"Yeah. Already finished. It's starting to get a little chilly at night," she added.

"Yeah," he grinned. "I noticed that, too."

"I guess I'll have to wear my jacket tomorrow."

"Maybe so." He switched the phone to his other ear. "Uh, Eames, I… I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Bobby." She hung up, and finished preparing herself for bed. As she stretched out beneath the sheets, she smiled, knowing he had only called to check in on her.