The Lethal Bones Page 3

  Ben turned in his seat to meet Lucas’ eyes. “I do trust you, or I wouldn’t have come to Colorado to meet with you. You’re one of my oldest—and only—friends, but I don’t like surprises. You should know this about me.” He pointed at the building. “Am I going to walk in there to find a bunch of people from my high school throwing me a party or something like that? Are my mom and brother in there? Is this an intervention?”

  "No, Hermano. None of those things. I promise you; there is no bait-and-switch. It's exactly what I told you it is: I met this woman, and she knows you. She wants to show you something."

  “I just don’t like all this mystery.”

  Lucas nodded. “I get it. But when you see what she has, I can guarantee you’ll be glad you met with her.”

  “This thing you can’t tell me about because it’ll spoil the surprise.”

  “That’s right. All you have to do is walk in there and listen to what the lady has to tell you. Then, you can stay, leave, do whatever you want to do. I’ll be happy to take you back to your truck as soon as you’re ready to go.”

  “What do you get out of this?”

  For a second, Lucas seemed wounded, and Ben regretted asking. But, for some reason, he couldn’t force himself to retract the question. Even if it was rude, Ben still wanted an answer. So, he waited for Lucas to respond.

  “Come on, Ben. I don’t get anything out of this, other than just trying to help a friend of mine who seems like he needs help. I believed her, and I wanted you to meet.”

  Ben wiped his hands down his face. “Right. I’m sorry. I’m being a jerk.”

  “Glad to see you haven’t switched up your style too much.”

  Ben grinned as he lifted his sunglasses from the dashboard and put them on. “Okay. I’ll do this.”

  Lucas patted the dashboard a couple times, and they left the car. Ben let Lucas lead him to the front of the building, which was like an office space. A receptionist at the front pointed them toward the elevators, and when they got in, Lucas punched the 4 button.

  “What is this place?” Ben asked as they ascended.

  “It’s office space people can rent for short-term. Work-from-home people who don’t want to work from home. That kind of thing.”

  “So this Ember person is a corporate headhunter? Is this about a job?”

  Lucas shook his head. “She’s… I don’t know what she is, exactly. But I don’t think she’s going to be asking you for your job history or anything like that. She wanted to meet here for privacy reasons.”

  “Privacy?”

  “Yeah. She’s intense. Funny, in a weird way, but intense. Like, you can’t tell if she’s cracking a joke at your expense sometimes. Kinda weird and evasive about it when you ask her things. I think she runs in some strange circles. Hard to explain. You’ll understand when you meet her.”

  “You seem to know a lot about her, but, at the same time, nothing.”

  Lucas chuckled. “Yeah, that’s about right.”

  “Okay, then.”

  The elevator doors opened, and Lucas led Ben down the hall, toward the room numbered 406. He knocked, and a muffled reply came from the other side. Lucas pressed down on the door lever and ushered Ben inside to a spacious and empty room. Large open windows let in blinding afternoon sun, and Ben held up a hand until he could adjust. Across the carpet, bits of office detritus were scattered here and there. Cables, paperclips, pens, and pencils. A few random desks with papers. Someone used to work here, for sure.

  And, standing at the window on the far side of the room, a woman. Ember. Her back was to him, but Ben could tell right away she was tall and lean, but not skinny. Long black hair cascaded down her back, and she was wearing tight jeans and a white tank top. She had a muscular V-shaped back and arms that looked like she spent a lot of her time at the gym.

  “We’re here,” Lucas said.

  Ember turned and smiled at them. For a second, Ben couldn’t speak. She was stunning. Her pale white skin made her blue eyes pop like gems, all the way across the room. She didn’t look like a corporate headhunter. She looked like a model.

  “Harvey Bennett?” she said, in a voice both deep and as smooth as silk.

  “I, uh, go by Ben,” he said, and that was all he could say. The sentence even had a raised inflection at the end, as if it were a question. All of Ben’s notions of why he was here were suddenly insufficient.

  She crossed the room and had a hand out to shake when she was within ten feet of him. “I’m Ember Clarke. It’s nice to meet you. I don’t know how much Lucas has told you, but I’ve been trying to find you for a long time.”

  Ben noted she stopped too far to reach his hand. He figured she was trying to make him cross the rest of the distance, as some kind of test. So, he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and walked the last three steps to her. He shook her hand and found it to be one of the firmest handshakes he'd ever experienced. "I haven't been any place you could find me for a while, now."

  “No shit,” she said, with a wry grin. “It’s lucky I ran into your friend Lucas. He’s a good guy, and he’s been working pretty hard on my behalf so we could meet.”

  “And now, we’re here,” Ben said. “I’d like to know why.”

  Lucas clapped his hands together. “That sounds like my cue to get out of here. I know you two have some business to discuss.”

  “No,” Ben said. “I want you to stay.”

  Lucas shot a glance at Ember, and she nodded her approval. “It’s fine, Lucas. You already know most of this, anyway.”

  “What does he know?” Ben asked.

  “I’d like to show you something,” Ember said as she walked toward the back corner, where Ben now noticed a briefcase he hadn’t seen before. She picked it up and brought it back to him.

  She held up the suitcase but did not open it. “What’s inside this suitcase is going to seem strange. You’re probably not going to want to believe it when you see it. But, I promise you, it’s the real deal. I know you don’t know me, but you’ll figure out pretty quickly I’m not the kind of person to jerk your chain.”

  Ben’s mouth went dry, and he craved a sip of water. This woman had a mesmerizing sort of eye contact, as if he couldn’t look away without great effort. He did everything in his power to make sure he didn’t falter.

  “Okay. Show it to me,” he said.

  She twirled a finger in the air. “Turn around.”

  “What?”

  “Turn around, please.”

  He held up his hands and gave a slow spin. “I don’t have any weapons on me.”

  “I know,” she said. “I just wanted to get a look at your butt. It’s nice.”

  Ben cleared his throat and said nothing. After a pause, Ember let out a cackle of a laugh, and Ben felt silly. Funny, he thought. Lucas was right. She smiled as she hoisted the briefcase. Ember held it flat and unlocked the two latches. Then, she drew a small manila envelope from inside and put the suitcase on the floor. She held the envelope carefully, like a newborn puppy.

  “When you were nineteen years old, you, your brother Zach, and your father, Johnson, were camping in Glacier National Park.”

  A cold chill ran up Ben’s spine. He tossed a quick glance at Lucas, who flashed his eyes but didn’t say anything. Lucas was like a statue standing ten feet away from them.

  Ben’s whole body went numb. He wasn’t sure what to think. Certainly wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say.

  “Maybe I was,” Ben said.

  “No need to act like I’m sweating you under the lights, Ben. This isn’t an interrogation.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Ember nodded. "And when you were camping, you encountered a mother bear and her cub. These bears injured your father and brother. You shot and killed both bears, saving your little brother's life. Your father succumbed to his injuries at the Kalispell Regional Medical Center shortly after."

  Ben had to work to swallow. He rubbed the pads of his index fingers against his
thumbs, trying to force himself to calm down and breathe at a normal rate. He didn’t know if he had beads of sweat on his forehead, but his skin felt hot.

  “Wha — what’s in the envelope?” he asked. His throat felt dry. He tried to suck on his teeth, to force some saliva back into his mouth.

  Ember didn't hesitate. She reached inside it and pulled out a small object. It was yellowish-white, like dirty porcelain. About the size of a pinky fingertip. It was almost oval-shaped, except it came to a curved point at one end.

  A tooth.

  “What is that?”

  Ember held it up. “This is a tooth from the bear that killed your father.”

  5

  Ben held out his hand, and Ember dropped the tooth in it. He held it under the fluorescent lights, turning it left and right. Studying it. Heart racing, Ben couldn't quite get over the feeling that all this was a joke, a dream, not really happening. So many random things had come together at once. They couldn’t all be random, could they?

  Lucas leaned in, also looking at the tooth. Still, he stayed mute, but Ben could tell from Lucas’ elevated breathing he was surprised too.

  Ben passed it back to her, finally finding his thoughts and his voice. "Bullshit. You can read about everything you told me about my past on the internet. There were news stories about the bear attack in the park — news stories about my dad dying in the hospital. The media basically turned my mom into their little personal story engine for a year. This tooth could be anything. It could be a moose tooth, or it could be something you bought on eBay. I don't know you, and I don't know why I should take your word for it."

  “I am not bullshitting you. You worked with bears at Yellowstone, Ben. You know that’s a bear tooth.”

  “Even if it is, how do I know it’s the tooth from one of the bears I shot? They all look the same to me.”

  She palmed the tooth while she reached into the envelope and took out three other photographs. “When an animal dies in a national park from natural causes, nothing happens to it. But bears that are killed by anything unnatural have to be processed. The two bears you shot were first taken to the medical clinic at Yellowstone. They stayed in a cold room there for over a day.”

  She handed him the first picture, a black and white image of a silvery hospital room. A giant bear sat on a metal table, with two men in lab coats hovering over the body. Ben squinted at the picture, and he could see it. It’s the same bear. A decade had passed, but Ben would never forget that sight. He hadn’t realized that he’d etched the image of the bear — her features, her fur, everything — into his mind.

  It was the bear that had killed Johnson Bennett.

  He gave her back the picture and cleared his throat. Ember held it up and pointed at one of the two men. “This bearded guy on the left is Oswald Berens. He was the one who became responsible for the remains after the initial processing. But, he had a couple of hours alone with it.”

  Next, she showed him another photo. This one was not a high-quality black and white, like the first one. It was a little blurry, as if it had been taken in a hurry. In secret. Oswald had his hands around the bear’s lips, pulling them up to reveal the bear’s mouth, with no teeth inside it.

  “This Oswald guy took out all the bear’s teeth? Is that normal?”

  She shook her head. “This might sound strange, but there is a group of people on the internet involved in the selling of body parts from animals involved in the killings of people. It’s a kind of messed-up collector’s club, I guess. This picture is what they would refer to as an 'authenticity shot.' It accompanies any sale to prove the authenticity of the item.”

  She showed him another picture, and this one appeared to be a selfie of this Oswald person. His hands were cupped, with a pile of these teeth spread out across his palms.

  “I took this picture. Look at the tooth closest to his right wrist. Look familiar?”

  Ben checked it out and looked at Ember, who was holding the tooth up. They did look the same, including discolorations in certain spots and a triangular chip near the base.

  “And you’re a part of this collector’s club?”

  Ember slid the pictures back into the envelope. "No. Not exactly. My brother was mauled by a bear when I was fourteen, and he was twelve, camping in southwest Montana. We did everything we could, but we were deep in the woods and had no cell service, and he was too injured to move him. He died that night."

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She nodded. "Thank you. A few years later, I read about what you did. Your dad died, but you saved your brother. You did what I couldn't. I studied you, Ben, and I wanted to meet you. I found Oswald online and met up with him for lunch in Iowa. He prefers to be called Ozzie; he slurps his coffee, which is actually cream with a little coffee flavoring, and, for a chubby guy with no social skills, he's a hell of a negotiator. I bought the full set of mother bear teeth from him, plus some of the cub's teeth. It wasn't cheap."

  Ben pointed at the tooth in her hand. “You have more of those?”

  “Fifty-three. All of the mother’s teeth, but most of the cub’s had been damaged, so he didn’t have them.”

  Ben shot a glance again at Lucas, who was standing only a few feet away, but it felt like miles. His arms were crossed over his chest. Staring at Ember, mute and wide-eyed. Ben couldn’t read Lucas’ take on the situation, but he’d brought Ben here, so he had to be on board with it. At least, Ben assumed so.

  “This is crazy,” Ben said.

  Ember smiled. “Tell me about it. You say you don’t know me, Harvey Bennett, but I know you. I know what you’ve been through. I know you spent the last several years thinking about that night. Thinking about how you could have done things differently. Thinking about how you could have saved them. And I know you worked with bears at Yellowstone, but that didn’t quite scratch the itch, did it? It’s why you like to sleep out under the stars. You keep hoping you’ll get another chance to do it right this time.”

  Ben gritted his teeth. “I didn’t know I was coming to this office for a therapy session.”

  “The therapy session is free of charge.” She paused, apparently realizing that Ben was more hurt than offended. “Sorry, I’m not trying to be confrontational with you. I just want to let you know that I get it. I know what it feels like to have no power, and I want to show you how to take that power back."

  “Okay,” Ben said. “So why are we here? Why did you go through all this trouble to do me a favor?”

  “When I bought the teeth of the bear that killed my little brother, I ground them into powder and spread them over my brother’s grave. I wanted him to see that I had eventually done what I couldn’t do that night. I beat it.”

  Ben said nothing, and she cleared her throat.

  “You’ve got a hell of a poker face,” she said.

  “I’m still here. I’m still listening.”

  Ember handed the tooth to him. "That's yours — a gift for coming to meet with me. But, if you do something for me, I'll give you the other fifty-two teeth. You can destroy them like I did, make a necklace, put them in a case up on the mantel above your fireplace. Hell, you can grind them up and snort them, if you feel like it. Whatever you want to do, it's up to you. They'll be yours, free and clear."

  He turned the tooth over and over again in his palm. “What is this thing you think I’ll do for you in exchange?”

  “It’s easy. All you have to do is take a package I give you and deliver it to someone.”

  “I’m not a drug runner.”

  Ember snorted a laugh. “It’s not drugs. It’s a gift for a friend of mine.”

  “Then why can’t you deliver it?”

  “Because,” she said, sighing, “my friend is currently with some people who don’t like me.”

  “What sort of people? Is this dangerous?”

  She hesitated a split second.“It would be for me, definitely. Dangerous for you? Maybe. I can’t promise you that it won’t be.”

 
“You’re not selling it very well.”

  She shrugged. “I just want to be honest with you. There are no guarantees. I can promise you it won’t be hard, though. Just take this package from A to B, and then it’s done. When you come back, I’ll give you the teeth, nothing else required. If you want to part ways after that, I won’t say a word.”

  He chewed on his lower lip as he twisted the tooth between the thumb and index finger on his right hand. Despite what she’d said, he had to assume the package was drugs, guns, explosives, or something even worse. And a 'maybe’ dangerous meant 'definitely' dangerous.

  And, he didn’t know if he cared, really.

  She leaned a little closer. “What do you say?”

  "Well," Ben said as he slipped the tooth into his pocket. "Okay. I've got nothing better to do right now."

  6

  She told Ben the neighborhood was called "Five Points." It seemed like the sort of place that had once been run-down but then had been revitalized again with hip coffee shops and nightclubs and expensive condos. Lots of aging brick buildings mixed in with shiny and new glass and steel ones. A place designed to attract the right people and price out the wrong ones.

  But the alley Ben stood outside of now did not seem hip or cool. It felt like a leftover from whatever this neighborhood used to be — seedy, hazardous, unpredictable.

  Smelled like rain coming any minute now.

  He stood between two immense brick buildings, one an apartment complex, the other offices or storage or something like that. Both were at least ten stories tall, with fire escapes and windows at intervals. The one on the left featured graffiti murals of mountains. The one on the right featured tag graffiti, crude and messy.

  Ben stared down the long alley, at least two hundred feet, if not longer. It terminated when the building on the left angled away, creating a pathway to someplace out of sight. Morning sunlight came through that pathway. Beams lit up the back end of the alley. So, the alley was not close-ended, but that somehow didn't make Ben feel any better.