The Lost Bones (Widow's Island #8)(10)

“Of course not. You know she’ll only talk to you.”

Cate fought to keep exasperation out of her voice. “But I don’t work for the FBI anymore. She needs to cooperate with whoever contacts her. I can’t help anymore.”

“Yet here you are,” Ellen said with a wide smile.

“Only because you live in close proximity. This visit is a single exception.” She glanced at George. “It doesn’t seem odd to you that she ignored their attempts to reach her? Would she answer a call or text from you now?”

“She should be at work,” said Ellen. “But I’ll text her.”

Ellen stretched to grab a pair of reading glasses from the kitchen counter and pulled a cell phone out of her pocket.

Cate turned her attention back to George. “I’ve been here ten minutes, and no one has asked what prompted the FBI’s new interest in Kori’s case.”

“I figured you’d tell us when you’re ready,” said the quiet man. “Not one to pry.”

“You don’t pry when it comes to your granddaughter’s kidnapping?”

“You’ve always kept us informed of what we need to know.”

He won’t let me push his buttons. Or at least he won’t show it if I do.

“I assume you got a report of a sighting of Rich,” said Ellen, setting her cell phone on the table. “That’s what it usually is.” She seemed as content as George to wait for Cate to bring up the new evidence.

My interviewing skills are rusty. I can’t prod anything out of them.

Maybe there’s nothing to come out.

The mandible in her bag was impossible for Cate to ignore. As if it had a flashing light that only she could see.

“Yesterday someone dropped off a package for me at Shiny Objects. It had my name and the bakery address on it but somehow ended up at the wrong place.”

Polite interest showed on their faces. Nothing else.

“We also have problems with the mail sometimes,” Ellen added.

Cate leaned forward, her forearms on the table. “Inside the box was one of the old newspaper articles about Jade’s disappearance. Handwritten on the margin was a message that implied that Jade didn’t survive, and this person was scared that Rich would do the same to her baby. Then it asked for help.”

Both the Astons were silent, mild confusion in their eyes.

“I don’t know what to think of that,” said Ellen. “You used the word ‘implied’ . . . it didn’t say this person knew for certain that Jade didn’t . . . survive?” Her voice cracked on the last word. “Maybe they’re making an assumption. A lot of people believe she’s . . . gone.”

Cate was at a loss about how to bring up the mandible. She’d mentally rehearsed a dozen different ways, exploring various outcomes, and now she had no recollection of what she’d decided was best.

There was no good way to show a child’s bone to grieving grandparents.

There’s a chance it’s not Jade’s.

The FBI still needed to compare the mandible to the records they had from Jade’s past dental work. But in her heart, Cate knew it was Jade’s.

That’s not a good enough reason to show it to these grieving grandparents.

She’d brought it to see if they’d reveal they were the ones who had dropped it off. Or admit anything else. But Cate’s gut was telling her they weren’t involved.

“Where’s this other baby?” asked George, fidgeting in his chair. “Why’d they send a note to you? If someone needs help, they should go to the police.” Anger flashed. “Although that didn’t help Kori.”

“Wait . . .” Ellen touched Cate’s arm. “You said ‘package.’ Was there more than a newspaper article?”

Cate’s stomach churned.

Why did I agree to this?

“There was a bone in the package,” Cate said, deciding to get it out. “It was the mandible of a child. It was implied that it belonged to Jade, but we don’t have absolute proof yet.”

Ellen covered her mouth with both hands, her chest heaving. George went very still, his gaze on Cate.

“I’m sorry to be so blunt,” Cate said. “But obviously the note and bone have the FBI’s attention, and they want to investigate both.”

The Astons were silent. Ellen rapidly blinked as her eyes grew wet.

Her mouth dry, Cate pulled her bag onto her lap but made no move to open it.

“Jade had little silver caps on some of her teeth,” Ellen whispered from behind her hands.

“Yes,” said Cate. “The bone does too.” Using the word “bone” instead of “mandible” was easier for her to say—more generic, softer.

Ellen gasped and covered her eyes. George got out of his chair and moved to stand behind his wife, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Show us,” he ordered.

He knows I have it.

Cate wanted to vomit. “I have a photo that—”

“You have it in your bag,” George stated. “Don’t you?”

Horror filled Ellen’s gaze. “No, I don’t want—”

“I’ll look,” said George. He glanced at the photo above the fireplace, his fingers digging into Ellen’s shirt. “I have every square inch of that little girl memorized. I’ll know.”