Who or what killed these two people in the middle of nowhere?
Did the victims' illegal activities lead to their murders or is there something even more sinister going on?
A stuttering fluorescent light is enough to cause vertigo, the white tile floor blood-dripped and dirty.
Patricia Cornwell; ‘Unnatural Death’.Patrick Ecclesine; Grand Central Publishing
Cinder block walls are scuffed and smudged, the red biohazard trash cans overflowing.
People were busy killing themselves and others, the weather dangerously stormy.
I left my Alexandria office late and was back before daylight.
Two campers have been killed near an abandoned gold mine sixty miles southwest of here.
Virginias Office of the Chief Medical Examiner hasnt had a case from there in its eighty-some-year history.
That doesnt mean there havent been fatalities no one knows about.
Buckingham Run isnt mapped or accessible by motorized ground transportation, and I wouldnt dare try it on foot.
Thousands of acres are riddled with mineshafts and tunnels, among other life-threatening hazards that include contamination by poisons.
The campsite scattered near the entrance of the abandoned gold mine,dangerandgo awaybarely legible on centuries-old warning signs.
I can hear Marinos booted feet moving through loose rocks and grit.
I see his light painting over rusty iron rails .
An ore cart shrouded in spiderwebs .
I send a text to Marinos satellite phone.
A former homicide detective Ive worked with most of my career, hes my forensic operations specialist.
Several hours ago, he was airlifted to the scene with Secret Service investigators.
Im not sharing his positive sentiments about evidence thats sensational and likely fake.
Any way I look at it, we could have a real mess on our hands.
If you want me to bring anything else tell me now.
Typing with my thumbs, I push through the ladies room door.
By now Im programmed not to pass up a chance to use the facilities.
In the early days I might have been the only female except for maybe the victim.
At death scenes I dont get to borrow the bathroom, and where Im going doesnt have one.
Drying my hands with cheap paper towels, I unlock my phone.
Bring bolt cutters, hes written back, and Ive already thought of it.
Anything else?I answer.
Theres one in my truck.
They dont work, I reply, and weve been through this countless times since Ive known him.
Better than nothing.Theyre not.
What if someone gets bit?He adds the emoji of a coiled snake.
I answer with the emojis of a helicopter and a hospital before tucking my phone in a pocket.
Reapplying lip balm, I brush on mineral sunblock, spritzing myself but good with insect repellent.
I pick up my Kevlar briefcase, a birthday gift from my Secret Service agent niece, Lucy Farinelli.
Looping the strap over my shoulder, Im confronted by my reflection in the mirror.
When Lucy notified me about the two victims inside Buckingham Run, she said to dress for extreme conditions.
The tactical cargo pants and shirt, the boots Im wearing wouldnt be flattering on most women.
I text Lucy that Ill meet her outside.
First, I need to chat with Henry Addams, I tell her, and shell understand why.
I texted him that we need to talk when he gets here.
He doesnt know whats happened inside Buckingham Run.
Nothing has been on the news yet.
But hell realize something is going on or I wouldnt have communicated that Im waiting for him.
As I follow the corridor, observation windows on either side offer remnants of recent horrors.
Sneakers with laces tied in double bows were left in the road at the scene of a pedestrian hit-and-run.
Inside the CT rooms scanner, images on monitors are of a fractured skull.
The decomp autopsy rooms door is closed, the red light illuminated.
Im walking past a supply closet when Fabian Etienne emerges from it.
Excerpted from Unnatural Death by Patricia Cornwell.
Copyright (c) 2023 by Cornwell Entertainments, Inc. Reprinted with permission of Grand Central Publishing.
All rights reserved
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