Annie was in her element, for a change. It had taken a long time to get all of her ducks in a row -- manufactured evidence, manipulated video, even hijacking the identity of a child who died at three to create a new persona for whoever Derek’s sire used to be -- but finally, she had done it. It wasn’t something to be proud of; that she even had the connections or the know-how to do such things had left Annie thoroughly disturbed even during the process, but she needed to do this.
She needed to give these people their rest.
It was sweltering in the tent they had erected over the burial site, but Annie hadn’t wanted any chance of the press spying on them from the skies above. This had to remain quiet; a huge cache of remains would be far too large a media splash to withstand any deeper scrutiny. Local law enforcement seemed embarrassed by the whole thing and were letting the Bureau run point, and Brett didn’t want the story to get too big.
Mostly to cover his own ass for not breaking the case before Annie had arrived, but also to deny her any acclaim for the discovery.
She surveyed the process quietly, lab techs digging into the earth and continually calling out the discovery of another bone, another scrap of clothing, another piece of evidence. So far, it was at least eight sets of remains, but Annie was certain there would be more.
“Remember folks, we’re looking for a recent burial in this mess, at least within the last three months,” Annie called out, hands on her hips. She had reported an anonymous tip stating that the leader of a theft ring had been taken out by her subordinates after going to far and moving from simple robbery to murder. That was her story, and she was sticking to it.
It was one of those blink-and-you’ll-miss-it things, a blip so small no one else might have noticed. Hanna was cruising along the highway when an official vehicle passed by on her right, then pulled off the road, sand kicking up in the wake of its tires as it started further into the desert and away from the road. It was a Saturday, so she had the day off. And she might not have even slowed down if she hadn’t noticed Coroner’s Office emblazoned on the back of the white van.
A watch check said it was just past two in the afternoon, and she changed the radio to the all-news station on a whim. City council meeting, a story about rising gas prices, some politician under investigation. Nothing about cops or an active crime scene in the desert. It was early, though, early enough that the TV stations might not have gotten wind of it yet.
Hanna gradually took her foot off the gas pedal, and the Civic slowed to a stop as she checked the rear view. No other traffic, not even a semi on its way to a drop off in another state. Call it rubbernecking, call it morbid curiosity, hell, call it picking up pointers. She sat behind the wheel as she concocted what sounded like a plausible story, then pulled her vehicle off of the road entirely and shut off the engine. The sound of the door closing was very loud in the sudden quiet.
“Great,” Annie grumbled. An approaching car easily drowned out the the quiet bustle of work in the tent, the scraping of tools against the hard earth and the slow murmur of conversation among the techs, gossiping about the finds and complaining about the heat. The tent was like a sauna; Annie figured she could use some air.
Stepping out into the bright afternoon sun, she slipped on a pair of sunglasses pulled from her pocket, still squinting at the change in the amount of light, and frowned at the car that had pulled up. She had assumed it would be Brett, coming out to check on her or perhaps looking for a little glory he might steal; she had expected a huge hassle on her hands, but this was a different, smaller one.
Lookie-loos were always a pain in the ass.
“Can I help you?” she called, bracing her hands on the small of her back.
“You’re in charge? Great.”
If Hanna had learned nothing else from her semi-disastrous encounter with a brunette and an eight foot tall lizard, it was that just acting like you belonged somewhere could be enough to get you by. She watched crime scene tape flutter in the hot afternoon breeze before making eye contact with the other woman again.
“I run a blog, just a local thing,” she said. “For UFO enthusiasts. Some supernatural stuff, but mostly just ‘do aliens exist.’ “I wouldn’t have stopped if I hadn’t seen the coroner’s bus. Is it a crash site? Supposedly there’s a lot of that around here, since Area 51’s still open for business.”
If she came across like enough of a harmless crackpot, they might not run her off in the next five minutes. In theory, anyway.
Annie gave her most officious smile. “I can assure you, ma’am, we have no little green men here,” she said, struggling to keep the laughter out of her voice. She had been warned she might run across a crackpot or two once she reached Nevada; the proximity first to Roswell and then to Groom Lake was sure to bring a few of the tin-hat crowd out of the woodwork.
“We always appreciate it when civilians want to lend a helping hand, but everything here is under control,” she went on. “Thank you for your concern, and have a nice day!”
“You sure about that? It’s common knowledge in the community that city and county vehicles are used to transport remains to deflect suspicion. That’s our - your - tax dollars at work.”
The brunette looked over the other woman’s shoulder, re-directed her attention. “The black helicopters are a myth, but they really don’t tell us everything, ya know. Being on the fringe doesn’t make us all crazy.”
Annie rolled her eyes behind her mirrored lenses. She couldn’t quite tell if this woman was for real -- honestly, who could when it came to these conspiracy nuts? -- but it was at least something of a distraction and an excuse to get out of the cloistered heat of the tent.
“Ma’am, I understand that the need for confidentiality in some matters is a trigger point for some people,” she began, smiling in as friendly a manner as she could muster. “We do ask for a large amount of trust from the public, but it’s out of necessity. Some human remains were discovered here, most likely that of some wayward hiker who got lost out here and didn’t make it back in. We keep these things quiet because it would be cruel for any family to find out that their lost loved one has passed through the news media, wouldn’t you agree?”
She tilted her glasses with a conspiratorial wink. “Between you and me, I still think the truth is out there, but I can tell you for certain,” she said, and jerked a thumb at the tent, “It’s not in here.”
“No kiddin’.”
Hiker. Right. Even if it was someone who’d gotten lost, there was a twenty percent chance natural causes weren’t the culprit. Hanna took a half-step towards the yellow tape, mindful not to even seem like she’d cross it. “Like I said, I’m just getting started on the ‘net. Barely two dozen readers. And yeah, I get it, not wanting anyone to find out. The relatives, I mean.”
She gave it a beat, listened to indistinct conversation from beneath the stark white tent. “Are you federal or local? I’d heard there was a branch out here, do the Feds get jurisdiction because it’s not within city limits?”
“Because this area is considered federal land, any remains that are determined to be of modern origin and not grounds for an archaeological study fall under the purview of the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” Annie intoned, a line she had repeated ad nauseum in the last few days. There had been a few passersby who had tried for a peek beyond the white plastic zip closure of the tent, highway patrol looking to throw their weight around against the perceived invasion of the ‘Feds’, and at least one scruffy looking man in a pickup truck that Annie was fairly sure was a coyote looking for some of his lost passengers.
The woman’s step forward wasn’t lost on her. “As such, actually, any crime committed on this land will be federally prosecuted. Including things like trespassing, or hindering an investigation.”
“Hey, I’m a law-abidin’ citizen,” Hanna said, mildly affronted, but she took half a step backwards, away from the tape.”I respect cops. Mostly. The community I deal with would like to be able to work with law enforcement, not be at odds.”
One shoulder went up and down, a shrug that said, What can you do?, and she added, “City kid, I bet. Desert hiking’s dangerous for amateurs, even with two or three people. Probably saw a bobcat and got so turned around he ran out of water before he knew it. Damn shame.”
Annie snorted; she had encountered just such a situation with one of her techs earlier that day.
“To be fair, bobcat kittens look alarmingly like, y’know, regular kittens,” she said with a laugh, shaking her head. Glancing back at the tent, she raised her voice just enough that David, the tech in question, could hear her. “Next think you know, some dumbass who somehow got through a pre-med degree is trying to feed it bologna out of his lunch!”
She allowed herself another chuckle over the scene before turning back to the inquisitive woman. “So you can see that I have my hands full here with this group, right? Don’t worry yourself over it. If it bugs you that much, submit a FOIA request and they’ll get back to you in, say, six to eight weeks?”
“No problem, I can see you’re on the clock. Thank you for your time, Officer. Agent? Hope you get things sorted.”
The day was just starting to broil as Hanna started walking back towards her car, and she only looked back once, towards the white tent. There was at least one competent law enforcement agent on the scene, one who clearly knew her shit. No desert burials, then.
She immediately turned on the air conditioning when she got back in the Honda, feeling the sweat at the small of her back and on the nape of her neck. Started towards home and a few cold beers.