The Lost Bones by Kendra Elliot

6

Cate handed the tourist a cardboard tray with four coffees and a paper bag full of cranberry scones. Her morning had been exceptionally busy, keeping her from dwelling on yesterday’s encounter with Kori and her parents. The hotels were packed with people who had come to the island for the warm summer days.

“Let’s see if a few of Patience’s friends can help out with some shifts,” Cate suggested to Jane as she gathered doughnuts for another order. Tessa’s sister was a good source for extra bakery help.

“I already asked,” Jane said as she handed a peach fritter sample to a young couple. “Two of them jumped at the offer to make some money. They’ll be here in an hour.”

“Good.” Cate eyed the young couple tasting the fritter. They’d already tried two other pastries. Cate suspected they were filling up on samples and weren’t going to order any food. A moment later they ordered two small black coffees.

Yep.

At least the samples were a day old.

She gave them a big smile as she took their card for the small purchase. The man’s eyes had lit up as he tried the fritter, and Cate suspected he’d be back at some point.

Jane’s baking was addictive.

The line out the door had finally died down and Cate was cleaning fingerprints off the glass case when Tessa arrived. The deputy had the same bags under her eyes that Cate did. They’d been up late the night before with a bottle of rosé as Cate had updated her and Samantha about her interview with Kori Causey and the Astons.

The three friends got together once a week with a bottle of wine or a quart of ice cream. They’d been friends since they were young teens. Practically sisters. And Cate looked forward to the quiet but intimately social evenings all week. They had years of being apart to make up for.

“What’s up?” she asked Tessa, who was in uniform.

“Two tourist fender benders, one trespass, and one abandoned baby seal,” said Tessa.

“Busy morning. Did a tourist report that the seal had been left behind?”

“Yes. She got into an argument with some locals who told her not to worry about it. I had to convince her it was best left alone.”

“Nothing has changed in twenty years here, has it?”

“Not at all.” Tessa raised a hand in greeting at Jane and nodded as Jane pointed at the big jug of iced coffee behind the counter.

Cate’s phone vibrated in her back pocket. She pulled it out and was surprised to see the Shiny Objects store listed on the screen.

“This is Cate,” she answered.

“Cate, it’s Marsha. Are you busy?”

“We have a lull at the moment. Do you need something?”

“I want to talk to you about that messed-up delivery.” She paused. “Samantha told me what was in that box and how it was tied to an old case of yours. Can you stop by for a few minutes?”

“Absolutely.”

Yesterday the mandible had been picked up by a special courier for delivery to the FBI’s lab on the mainland, and Cate had spent the afternoon typing up interview notes and pondering her next steps to assist in the investigation. The discussion with Kori and the Astons hadn’t revealed any new information to pass along to the FBI, so after the emotional afternoon, she’d decided to step back for a day or two and let the family mourn before talking to them again. Even though Jade had been gone for years, the mandible had ripped open old wounds. Both Cate and the family had no doubt the lab would confirm it was Jade’s. There had been an air of finality in the Aston home yesterday. An era of waiting and wondering had finally come to an end.

“Want to go to Shiny Objects for a few minutes?” she asked Tessa. “Marsha has something to tell me about that box that accidentally went to her store.”

“She remembered something?” asked Tessa as she took a sip of her iced coffee.

“I don’t know. But something prodded her to call me. You and I both know that people often think of things later.”

The two women stepped out into the midmorning sun and walked down the street to the little shop. They nodded at locals and stepped out of the way as children darted by.

It’s a good life.

“Sleep okay?” Tessa asked.

“You know I sleep like crap on the nights we drink wine late at night.”

“We can skip it next time.”

“Not on your life.” Cate grinned at Tessa. “I know we’re horrible stereotypes, but there’s something about girl talk combined with a little ice cream or alcohol that makes me really happy.”

“A bottle is barely more than one glass for each of us.”

“I think it’s the ritual of it more than anything.”

“Agreed,” said Tessa. “And the fact that we missed out on over a decade of girl talk.”

“Exactly. We’re making up for lost time.”

“You know the three of us will be part of the next crop of older women running the island. We’ll have to learn to knit.” Tessa referred to the Widow’s Island Knitting and Activist group. Jane was currently its leader, and the women in the circle were more instrumental in the government of the island than the mayor and council.

“I don’t think many of them actually knit.” Cate stopped to touch a beautiful wind chime hanging outside Shiny Objects. The metal structure spun and glittered and made soft sounds that were agreeable to Cate’s ears. “Nice,” she said, seriously considering a purchase. “And I don’t think it will offend any neighbors.” She glanced at the tag and choked at the $200 price.

Some tourist would buy it.

Shiny Objects featured local jewelry, paintings, sculptures, blankets, scarves, and other works of art. Each display had a small card that introduced the artist and described how they worked. Marsha had a good eye. Many of the pieces she took on struck strong chords in Cate like the wind chime just had. But not a $200 chord.

She followed Tessa inside and spotted Marsha, who was speaking with two tourists near an arrangement of earrings. Again Cate’s attention was hooked. This time by a new display of delicate silver-and-glass necklace pendants in every shade of blue. Marsha excused herself from the shoppers and gestured for Cate and Tessa to follow her out the front door. She led them a couple of steps to a small alcove where they wouldn’t block tourist traffic. Cate deliberately didn’t look at the beautiful wind chime.

“Did you find out who left that box at my store?” Marsha folded her arms and looked from Cate to Tessa. Marsha Bishop’s red hair was coiffed into what Cate thought of as a helmet. A stylish helmet. Her eyeliner was a bit heavy but precisely applied, and she tastefully wore jewelry and finely knitted items from her store. For a long time, the woman had been dealt one bad hand after another, so seeing Marsha run a business with panache made Cate’s heart happy.

“No,” Cate and Tessa replied in unison.

Marsha toyed with a lovely earring as she watched the tourists pass by. “Maybe it’s nothing, but last night I looked online for articles about your case. That poor woman . . . Kori Causey . . . losing a daughter like that.”

A pang hit Cate’s heart as she realized Marsha felt an affinity for Kori. She’d lost her daughter for twenty years. The fact that Samantha had returned after all that time was nothing short of a miracle.

“But while I was reading and looking at the pictures of that precious little girl, I realized that Kori looked familiar.”

Cate and Tessa exchanged a glance. “Her parents moved to the island about a year and a half ago,” said Cate. “I’m sure she’s visited a few times.”

“She’s not missing, right?” asked Marsha.

“Kori? No. I saw her yesterday.” Cate frowned at the confusion in Marsha’s eyes. “What is it?”

“The day before I received that box addressed to you, I had a customer show me some photos of a missing woman, wanting to know if I’d seen her.” She raised her palms. “As if I can remember what all my customers look like. I looked at the pictures and said I hadn’t seen her. But she stuck in my mind because she had red hair. Not a deep red like mine or Sam’s, but I’d call it a strawberry blonde. I swear the photo he showed me was the same woman I saw online—Jade’s mother.”

“Kori does have pale-red hair,” Cate said. “Jade too. But Kori’s not missing, so I don’t know why . . .”

A chill touched her spine.

Rich Causey?

Could Rich be searching for Kori?

Tessa sucked in her breath, and Cate knew the same thought had occurred to her. “Did he leave contact information?” asked Tessa.

“He didn’t leave anything. He showed me several photos on his phone. I don’t remember what he said her name was or her age, but she appeared young—probably barely into her twenties.”

“Do you remember what he looked like?” Cate pulled out her phone and started googling for photos of Rich Causey.

“Tall. Glasses. Rather thin, with a crooked nose. Short light-brown hair. He wore a red Hawaiian shirt that was one of the most obnoxious ones I’ve ever seen. And cargo shorts.”

“Age?” Cate opened a photo of Rich that had been in every article back when he had vanished. It was slightly blurry and had been cropped from one with him and a few friends at a bar. The photo was nearly five years old back then, so it was very out of date now. But it was all they had. Rich’s penchant for staying off the grid had included staying out of photos. She showed the photo to Marsha, who took Cate’s phone and squinted. She put on her readers and squinted again.

Rich Causey had been tall, but his nose hadn’t seemed crooked.

Noses can be broken.

Marsha looked doubtful. “This guy was much older. Probably in his fifties.”

“The photo is at least twelve years old.”

Marsha slowly shook her head. “I don’t know. His hairline was receding . . . the shape of his mouth doesn’t seem right, and the nose definitely isn’t crooked.”

“He was a stranger to you?”

“Definitely not a local,” Marsha said emphatically. “He asked lots of questions about who I buy the jewelry and art from. He wanted to know if I’d just buy it off anyone who brought in a collection. I told him I’d have to see it first, but I had bought on sight when someone showed me pieces I knew I could sell.” She looked around and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I felt like he primarily wanted to sell me something.”

“Not to find the woman in the photos?”

“Well, that too.”

“If he’s not a local, he might be staying at one of the hotels,” said Tessa. She stepped aside and spoke into the mic at her shoulder. Cate heard her pass along the man’s description and direct one of the other deputies to start checking hotels.

Could Rich Causey be on the island?

The island had only a dozen hotels, but many other options were available because of private rentals. It would be a needle-in-a-haystack search. And just because Marsha had seen him alone didn’t mean he was traveling alone, so they couldn’t limit their search to a single man. From what Cate knew of Rich Causey, he’d leave no trace behind. She couldn’t see him staying in a hotel that required a credit card that could be tracked.

He wouldn’t use his own name anymore.

“You’re sure the young mother is okay?” Marsha asked Cate. Her eyes were haunted, and Cate’s stomach twisted in sympathy for her.

“I’m positive. I saw her yesterday.”

“So odd,” Marsha said, almost to herself. “He didn’t seem like the type of man that would kidnap a child.”

As far as Cate knew, that wasn’t a recognizable type.

“Let us know if you see him again,” Cate told her as Tessa wrapped up her mic conversation.

“I will.”