The Lost Bones (Widow's Island #8)(8)

“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.





4


George Aston was sitting on the porch when Cate arrived the next morning. She parked her car on the street, wondering if Kori’s father frequently sat in the adirondack chair or was waiting for her. The small neighborhood was cute. It was a beachy-looking cluster of tiny cottages painted in varying pale shades of coral, teal, pink, and white. Cate knew this wasn’t a neighborhood of tourist rentals. The people who lived in these little homes were islanders. They had jobs in the towns or worked on the water.

Or were retired, like George and Ellen.

Cate stepped out of the car and waved at George. He slowly lifted a hand.

The email from Phillip that morning was on repeat in Cate’s head. The female agent he’d sent to interview Kori Causey yesterday had been unable to locate her. Kori’s roommate had said she hadn’t seen her that day, and Kori hadn’t responded to texts or phone calls from the FBI agent or her roommate. Phillip wasn’t happy.

Will Ellen and George know how to contact Kori?

If so, will they tell me?

Cate wasn’t so sure.

She approached and noticed George’s eyes were as sad as she remembered and wondered if his eyes had been that way before Jade had vanished. He was a gray-haired man in his late sixties with a gentle stoop to his shoulders and long thin legs. He unfolded himself from the chair and stood.

“Good morning, Mr. Aston.”

“George, please,” he answered, with a somber expression. “Ellen is inside.” He opened the screen door and gestured for Cate to go ahead of him. The morning was already warm, the humidity quite high for the island. Usually the constant breeze kept the humidity manageable, but today there was no wind, and the air was heavy. Cate’s skin was damp.

Inside the door, Cate stepped into a magazine layout of a traditional beach home from the eighties. Heavy wood furniture with a high-gloss lacquer. Glass sea floats in rough netting. Seagull figurines and water bird paintings everywhere. A huge canvas photo of Kori and Jade hung above the redbrick fireplace. Kori’s arms were wrapped around her daughter, joy in her expression, and Jade’s eyes were as light blue as Widow’s Bay on a sunny day.

Cate’s throat tightened, and the evidence envelope suddenly seemed to weigh down her shoulder bag. Phillip had asked her to get the mandible from the county sheriff’s office, which was holding the bone for the FBI lab. He thought the sight of the small ivory jaw would push the Astons to be more forthcoming.

Cate didn’t want to show them. It felt manipulative. A photo of the bone would suffice. But after Kori’s vanishing act yesterday, Phillip wanted answers from the grandparents.

If George or Ellen delivered it to me, they’ve already seen it.

Cate didn’t know what to expect.

What if one grandparent did it without the other’s knowledge?

She glanced back at George, who was straightening a throw on an easy chair. The man was very quiet, but from what she remembered, that was his nature. It wasn’t an indicator of deception to keep to oneself when that was one’s normal behavior.