Close to the Bone (Widow's Island #1)(16)

She wore a scarf that brought out the blue in her eyes, and some of her long black hair was casually braided, keeping it out of her face. Overall she made a very attractive and fascinating lunch companion.

She said quick lunch.

But she didn’t say no.

“Good afternoon,” said a gaunt man in his fifties as he filled their water glasses. His crisp white shirt and black apron were pristine. “I’m Milton, and I’ll be waiting on you today. Can I bring you something else to drink?” he asked in a formal voice.

“Coffee,” Henry and Cate said in unison.

The waiter gave a stiff nod and vanished.

Henry set his menu aside, knowing he wanted the burger. “What’s your next step in Becca’s investigation?”

“Supposedly the ferry will be running by tomorrow, and we can send her remains to the lab.” She lowered the menu and rubbed her eyes. “I want to call Becca’s mom in New York and retrace Becca’s last movements. I’ll also talk to Rex and Dustin again.”

“You have a lot to do. What else?”

Her lips flattened into a line. “I have a sex offender to follow up on.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised they’re on Widow’s Island.” He paused, remembering his unwelcome visitor from that morning. “Does the island have much of a drug problem?”

She smiled faintly. “Everywhere has a drug problem, but drug problems have been rampant on Widow’s as long as I can remember. The only change is the type of drug.” Her eyes were somber. “There’s not a lot to do here. Unless you’re into fishing or own a business, you have a lot of time on your hands. Drugs are an easy entertainment.”

“Until your life is no longer your own.”

“That sounds personal.” Sympathy rang in her tone.

“My sister. Overdose. I was eighteen.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“You could say I have a special hatred for the industry.” Understatement.

“With good reason.”

“Y’all ready to order?” asked a waitress. Her plump cheeks were very pink and gave her a jolly air. Unlike Milton, her white shirt had been the victim of a coffee spill.

“You’re not Milton,” Henry joked, picturing the gaunt waiter.

“No, I’m Naomi,” she said, her eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Are you from the island?” Cate asked.

“Yep. Born and bred. I’ve worked at every restaurant on the island at one time or another. Even the bakery. You get to know everyone’s secrets when you stay in the public eye like I do. The good ones and the bad ones.”

“Have you heard anything about police activity in the last twenty-four hours?” Cate asked, surprising Henry. Maybe she’s testing the waters.

Naomi’s eyes widened. “No. What happened?”

“I was asking you,” Cate answered. “Something’s up. Was wondering if the word was out yet.”

“Not that I’ve heard.” Anticipation crossed her face. “I’ll ask around. Do y’all know what you want?”

They both ordered the burger.

As she left, Cate reached for her bag and winced.

“Okay,” said Henry. “We’ve ordered the same food and tramped around Ruby’s Island in the dark together. I think it’s safe for you to tell me what’s up with your shoulder. I knew you were in pain last night.”

Cate took a tiny bottle of ibuprofen from her bag, shook out three, and swallowed them with water before looking him in the eye, her expression grim. “I was shot.”

Shock rocked through him. “Shot? How?”

“With a gun,” she said wryly.

“You know what I mean.” He placed his forearms on the table and studied her closely. He’d seen his share of gunshot victims. Cate looked good from the outside, but he knew how a bullet could leave physical wreckage in its wake. Mental and emotional wreckage too. “What happened?”

Indecision flickered in her eyes.

“I won’t gossip,” he promised.

She gave a short laugh. “Oh, the whole island knows already. Jane saw to that.”

“Jane. Jane Sutton?” Henry couldn’t think of any other Janes he’d met. “Why would she do that to you?” Annoyance flickered as he thought of the pleasant woman he’d met that morning. Did Jane play me for a newcomer again?

A wide grin filled her face. “Jane is my grandmother. She meant well by spreading my news.” Cate rolled her eyes. “You know her?”

“I met her this morning. Nice lady. Didn’t treat me like an outsider.”

Cate’s brows shot up. “Wow. You must have made quite an impression. Everyone is an outsider to her.”

“Is she on your Elias Bishop side of the family?” He wondered what he’d done to get on Jane’s good list.

“Yes. And very proud of her heritage. No one dares put our family down for being descended from the whore . . . not to our faces, anyway.”

“Do people really say that?” Henry was stunned.

“Oh yes. Even though it happened generations ago, some grudges go very deep.” She twisted her lips. “Welcome to Days of Our Lives. Island version.”