The Lost Bones by Kendra Elliot

3

Cate was late.

Henry sipped his wine and enjoyed the sights from the Harbor View Inn’s large deck. He was surrounded by tables of tourists and the occasional group of locals. He nodded across the room at Rex Conan, the famous mystery novelist who lived in the mansion on the tiny island in the center of Widow’s Bay. The older author lifted his cocktail in acknowledgment of Henry and continued his conversation with a woman Henry didn’t recognize. The way the two of them leaned toward each other made Henry smile. It was good to see the reclusive writer with a love interest.

The air was warm, and the sun was still high. Sunlight lasted late into the evenings in July on the island. As Henry relaxed and watched the boats sail around the blue bay, he recognized for the umpteenth time that he’d moved to paradise.

A movement caught his eye, and he turned to see Cate crossing the deck.

God, she’s beautiful.

Tall with dark hair and blue eyes, she moved with a confidence that turned several heads. She stopped a few times to greet people she knew, and he enjoyed watching her interact. She gave genuine wide smiles and would casually touch a neighbor’s arm. Faces lit up as she spoke with people.

Henry had moved over a thousand miles, something pulling him to this remote corner of the Pacific Northwest. Cate’s grandmother, Jane, had told him it was the island. It drew people from around the world.

Henry suspected it had been Cate.

Cate is connected to the island.

Her ancestors were an integral part of the island’s notorious history. A history of betrayal, lust, and possibly murder. Widow’s Island capitalized on its colorful past, using it to attract and tempt the tourists, who were its lifeblood.

But the gorgeous setting is the primary attraction.

Rural farming areas. Forests. And the ocean. All with a small-town atmosphere. A bit of everything packed into a small space.

He stood as Cate reached their table, and they kissed. She smelled of brownies, books, and fresh air. Her skin was warm to his touch on the small of her back. She slid into the chair next to him and picked up the glass of wine he’d ordered for her. Her eyes glowed as she clinked his glass. “To blue skies and blue water.”

“Blue water,” he echoed. It wasn’t just Cate’s eyes that glowed; he sensed anticipation simmering inside her.

Something about the missing-child case has created a fresh energy.

“Oh, crap.” Cate froze, her wineglass at her lips, her gaze locked on a man across the deck who was talking to a waiter. “What day is it today?”

Henry choked back a laugh. “It’s not Thursday. Don’t worry. He’s not scheduled to play tonight.” Cate had spotted Herb, who always provided live music on Thursdays at the Harbor View Inn. Herb and his oboe weren’t to everyone’s taste—especially Henry’s and Cate’s. Herb liked to play his instrument in close proximity to his audience members, his hips and shoulders in constant movement.

Henry’s first attendance at one of Herb’s performances rated high on his list of awkward and uncomfortable moments.

The relief on Cate’s face was almost comical. “Thank you, sweet baby Jesus. I want to enjoy our evening in peace.” She took a large swallow of wine and relaxed into her chair. “How was your afternoon?”

“I set up an interview with a nurse practitioner who’s considering a move to the island. She’s visited several times and loves it.”

“Good! You need help. It’s not fair that you’re the sole provider on the island. I’m tired of people calling late on Friday night because they have a sore throat. I don’t care what she’s like; hire her.”

He knew Cate wasn’t serious, but she had a good point about him being on call twenty-four seven. “What do you think about me asking Jane to interview her too?”

Cate raised a brow. “She’s a good judge of character.”

“Do you think she’d be able to tell if someone would stick around or leave the island in three months? I hate to invest time and money in someone, only to have them realize island life isn’t for them.” He’d admired Jane’s deep insight about people ever since he’d met her.

“Oh, I see what you’re asking.” Cate appeared to ponder his question as she looked out at the blue water. “It’s not a magic trick. I don’t think Jane reads a message about the future on anyone’s forehead.”

“When I first met Jane, she knew I’d stay.”

Cate shrugged. “Then ask her. I’m sure she’d love to help you.”

Henry took one of Cate’s hands. “Now. Tell me what happened this afternoon. You look like you can hardly sit still. Good news from the agency about your old case, I hope?”

“Phillip asked me to interview Kori Causey’s parents. They live here on Widow’s.”

She’s excited to be involved.

Cate had assured him many times that she didn’t miss her job at the FBI, but this mystery had made her come alive the same way she had last spring, when she’d been pulled into another old case. He knew she needed the intellectual stimulation. Baking and organizing the bookstore didn’t challenge her the way her job used to.

But she had been right to leave the job behind. The on-the-job anxiety had been crippling.

“It’s an interview. I’m just giving them a hand,” she told him earnestly. “The Astons won’t talk to anyone else.”

“Wait . . . you said they live here?”

The mandible.

She nodded, understanding in her gaze. “I know—could they be the ones who delivered the package? I talked with Phillip about that too.”

The waiter appeared at their table. Cate ordered salmon, Henry ordered the thai pizza, and they agreed on onion rings for an appetizer.

After the waiter left, Henry turned back to Cate. “Could the grandparents be involved?”

“Who knows? It will certainly make for an interesting interview tomorrow morning.”

“I assume they were investigated seven years ago.”

“Yes. At that time, they lived on Orcas Island and were hours away when the abduction took place.”

“When Kori said the abduction took place,” Henry corrected.

Cate grimaced.

“Sorry,” Henry said, knowing he’d overstepped. “You spent years on this case, and I’m jumping in with questions and scenarios you’ve already examined multiple times.”

“Exactly. I believe Kori’s story, and the evidence backed her up. Her parents were definitely on the island when Jade and Rich vanished.”

“Did her parents know what kind of man Rich Causey was when their daughter married him?”

Cate looked thoughtful. “From what I remember, they originally liked that he was so much older than her. They thought he would take care of her.”

“I don’t think marrying a caretaker should be a life goal.”

Cate grinned. “It’s some women’s—and men’s—goal.” Her expression grew serious. “Rich Causey was a piece of work. He lived off the grid to stay under the government’s radar.”

“To avoid paying taxes?”

“Of course, and other things. I can’t describe what a mess his tax and income background was, but anyway, he treated Kori like she was a possession, not a person. When deputies finally decided to search the property for Jade, Kori had to warn them about Rich’s workshop. The little building a hundred yards from their home was booby-trapped, and Kori didn’t know how to dismantle it. She said Rich had done it to keep both her and strangers out of his things. They had to call in a bomb squad before anyone could enter.”

“I assume there was nothing helpful in there?”

“Unless you count twenty-two guns as helpful. There was also a huge stack of National Geographic magazines from the nineties and enough rusted motor parts to partially build a dozen engines.”

“Sounds useful. How did he get Jade away from Kori that day?”

“Guess.”

“Locked her in a closet?” Henry suggested the classic movie situation.

“Yes.” Cate leaned closer, her gaze holding his. “He’d done it several times before, but that day he’d told her she was a horrible mother and that he’d take Jade away before he ever let Kori take her to the doctor.”

“How would she get to the doctor if she couldn’t drive?”

“She was going to carry Jade to a neighbor’s home a mile away and beg for a ride.”

Henry couldn’t speak.

That poor woman.

Cate continued. “Rich put Kori in the closet and wedged a chair under the handle. She heard him go outside, but she didn’t know if he’d actually left the property or whether or not he’d taken Jade with him. So Kori sat and waited in the closet for a while, worried Rich would physically hurt her if she came out—”

“Kori could get out?”

“She could. I’ll explain in a second. Part of her didn’t believe that Rich would actually take the girl away; she hoped Jade was still sleeping. She was torn between checking on her daughter and avoiding Rich’s wrath.”

“How’d she get out?”

“The closet didn’t have an actual lock. Just the chair was keeping it closed. After Rich had locked her in there a few times, she’d hidden one of his gun-cleaning rods inside in case she truly needed to get out.”

Henry pictured one of the long thin rods. “She pried the door open with it?”

“No, she slid it under the door and shoved the legs of the chair away.”

“I thought this girl was naive. That’s pretty smart, thinking ahead to store something like that in the closet.”

“She was used to a cycle of abuse. At times she had to think ahead to survive. Rich was such a horrible person. He would take the phone from their landline with him when he left the home.”

“What an asshole.”

“That’s describing him mildly. Once she got out and saw her daughter was gone, she ran that mile to her neighbor’s house to report that Jade was missing.”

“And the sheriff’s office blew her off because Jade was with their buddy, her dad.”

Cate lifted her wineglass in a small toast to him.

“This sounds like something that would happen fifty years ago . . . not seven years ago,” he said.

“Rich made Kori write monthly letters to her parents saying how happy she was. He read them all before mailing them, of course. No TV. No computer. They lived off the land as much as possible. Any shopping was done only by Rich or when he was with her. She never went to a store alone.”

“Her whole life must have revolved around that little girl,” said Henry.

“It did. Kori was a complete mess when I first met her, but I watched her grow a lot over the years. It’s amazing how someone can blossom when they’re not being kept in a box. I’m very interested to hear how she’s doing now. I haven’t talked to her in almost two years.”

“I hope Kori finally gets some answers,” Henry said. “Maybe this mandible will be the lead the FBI needed all along.”

Their onion rings arrived, and they munched in silence for a long moment, trying to think of more pleasant thoughts.

Cate covered her mouth as she chewed and then whispered to Henry, “Who’s the woman with Rex Conan?”

“Don’t know,” said Henry. “They look happy, though.”

“At least a longtime resident like him will know to stick to dating and not get married,” Cate said, choking back a laugh.

Henry didn’t laugh. “Are you implying that it’s dangerous for me to get married?” The high number of widowed women on the island had always bothered him. For some reason, married men passed away much earlier than their spouses. As if the island were trying to live up to its name.

Cate’s eyes sparkled. “It’s a myth.”

“I’ve done my own research. Men die younger here. What do you women do to us?”

“Maybe we cook with too much lard and bacon fat. Maybe it’s heart disease.” She moved her mouth closer to his ear. “Or maybe they die with smiles on their faces.”

Her breath on his ear and neck triggered goose bumps all the way down his legs. He turned, meeting her heated gaze as a different hunger flared in his chest.

We haven’t even finished our appetizer.

It was going to be a long dinner.