The Lost Bones (Widow's Island #8)(2)

Now she held a small flat cardboard box.

“This was addressed to you at the bakery,” Marsha said. “I don’t know why they delivered it here.”

“Because in the end, it would get where it needed to be,” Cate said absently. It was true. Widow’s Island was a very small community. They looked out for each other, and nothing was ever misplaced for very long.

She noted the box didn’t have a return address or a postmark. “Did UPS deliver this?” She scanned each side of the box. It was addressed to Cate Wilde c/o Black Tail Bakery.

Marsha frowned. “Well, I’m not sure. The delivery people leave mail or packages on my counter if I’m busy when they come in. Didn’t see who left it.”

Henry offered the Leatherman tool he always carried. Cate slit the packing tape, opened the small box, and pulled out crumpled old newspaper and tipped the box, sliding the contents onto her palm.

The small delicate arch of bone made her catch her breath.

It has teeth. Baby teeth.

Someone had sent her the mandible of a small child.



Henry, Cate, and Deputy Bruce Taylor stood in the back room of Cate’s bookstore, staring at the mandible on top of the thin box. Henry watched Cate closely, noting her intent expression as she ran a search on her phone. She had flattened out the old newspaper packing on a table, and Henry had already read the circled article twice.

It was about a kidnapping seven years ago. The case had been Cate’s.

Her face showed she had directed all her attention to the matter at hand. Her bakery owner persona had been replaced by that of an FBI agent two seconds after she’d seen the mandible. He’d felt a thin wall insert itself between them as she shifted into work mode, but it didn’t bother him. He’d met her when she was still with the FBI and knew that this was how she operated.

Absolute focus.

“I can’t find anything new on the case,” Cate muttered, still studying her phone. “I know Phillip would have told me if it’d been solved. I just sent him an email asking for an update.”

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Deputy Tessa Black let herself in the room. “Where is it?” she asked without greeting anyone. Bruce pointed, and Tessa stepped closer, her gaze locked on the bone on top of the box.

“Are you sure it’s real?” she asked.

“Yes.” Henry had no doubt.

“Age?” asked Tessa.

“Three,” said Cate, still focused on her phone.

“That’s assuming it belongs to who you think it does,” said Tessa. She lifted a brow at Henry, silently asking his opinion.

“Age two to five,” he said. He’d done his own Google search to age the mandible by eruption of the teeth. “There’s a lot of leeway.”

“You’re sure this is related to your old case?” Tessa asked Cate.

“I’m ninety-nine percent positive this is from my old case. See the tiny silver crowns on her front teeth? And the silver fillings in the back? During the investigation, I talked to the dental student who did that work on Jade before she vanished. The FBI has dental x-rays of the girl’s mouth before and after the work was done. She had rampant tooth decay from the mother putting her to bed every night with a bottle.”

“I’ve seen toddlers with that before,” added Henry. “Sometimes they have to sedate the child to do the dental work. The parents are always upset to learn that what they thought was a comforting measure to help get their kid to sleep resulted in pain and a lot of dental work.”

“The mom, Kori, asked the dentist if it would be better to put diet soda in Jade’s bottle at night,” Cate said. “The poor guy was stunned. He said he had to tell her a dozen times that water was the only acceptable liquid.” Cate gave a sad smile. “Kori never finished high school and was very naive in many ways.”

“But there is a chance this bone could be from a different child,” Tessa stated.

Henry grimaced. “It’s possible but highly unlikely. Why would someone go to the extreme measure of finding a mandible of the right size with extensive dental work and deliver it to Cate if it wasn’t about her old case?”

“Who knows why people do anything these days,” said Tessa. “Who delivered it to Shiny Objects?”

“There’s no delivery label on the box,” said Cate. “I think it was dropped off by someone who didn’t want to be seen. Marsha assumed it was from a legit delivery service. And no, she doesn’t have cameras.”

“Hardly anyone on the island uses cameras,” said Bruce.

“I use them,” Henry stated firmly. A break-in at his medical clinic had once resulted in the loss of important police evidence. He’d installed cameras soon after. He wasn’t just the sole doctor on the island; he was also the coroner.

“Why wouldn’t they want to show their identity?” asked Bruce.

“Good question,” said Cate. “Someone feels nervous contacting law enforcement. Or they’re involved or don’t want to answer questions . . . but they want some truth to come out.”

“Start from the beginning, Cate. Tell me the whole story of this little girl,” Tessa ordered.

Cate pulled out a chair at the table and sat, taking a deep breath. “It’s been seven years this coming September. It was a kidnapping by the father. The mother came to us—”