Close to the Bone (Widow's Island #1)(20)

Clover scowled. “I’m twenty. I don’t drink the tequila. I just make stuff with it.”

That wasn’t my point. At least the relationship is legal. Still . . . he’s thirty-six.

“That ice cream sounds . . . interesting.”

Clover’s head bobbed enthusiastically. “I’m trying a whole line of flavors based on cocktails.” She winked. “I’ve tried adding pot, but I can’t get it to work right.”

“Maybe make an extract?” Did I just say that?

She screwed up her face in thought. “Yeah . . .”

“It was nice meeting you. I wish you continued luck with your business,” Cate said to Stan. He could explain her visit to Clover. Cate didn’t have the heart to tell the flower child the real purpose.

On the drive home, she imagined a life where she only worried about ice cream and cows.

It sounded peaceful.



The craving for ice cream was enough to make Cate take a long detour to Bishopton.

Besides, she was curious about a business where someone like Clover took a primary role.

It was almost dark as her vehicle followed the road’s forested switchbacks nearly down to sea level. The little town of Bishopton spread to the east of the ferry station. Clover was right that the town was for tourists. The lucky business owners who had shops close to the ferry station were guaranteed a booming summer business, which helped carry them financially through the slow winter. The islanders who lived along the east coast of the island shopped in Bishopton year-round; otherwise Cate would expect most of the businesses to close for the season.

The ferry dock looked lonely without a huge ferry in port. During the winter the ferry came every other day, and during the summer it made two trips a day, dumping tourists on the island. Cate slowly drove through Bishopton. Admittedly it was a cute and charming town. Wooden sidewalks, homey storefronts, and well-maintained landscaping. She spotted the ice creamery tucked between two larger buildings and easily veered into a street parking spot. An impossible maneuver during the summer high season.

Pleased the store was still open, Cate stepped inside and started as she recognized the waiter and waitress from The Little Garden. They held hands as they peered into the ice cream case. The tall, gaunt man and the smaller, curvy waitress made an amusing sight. Behind the counter, a bored teenage boy waited patiently for the couple to make up their minds. Cate scanned the board of flavors. All the basics were available, but she assumed Clover’s influence added the odd ones. White chocolate curry, buttered popcorn, sweet corn with basil, and avocado mint chip.

“Oh . . . hello!” Naomi had spotted Cate, and her cheeks plumped as she grinned.

“Hi, Naomi . . . Milton,” Cate said and smiled. “I’m Cate, by the way.”

“Cate is the one who asked me about police activity,” Naomi explained to Milton, who nodded solemnly. “I started asking around, and sure enough, it turns out they found bones on Ruby’s Island!” she whispered loudly, gazing from Cate to Milton. “Pam at Shiny Objects had all the details.” Her eyes glowed as she shared the gossip. Milton sighed and gave Cate a one-shouldered shrug, no doubt used to Naomi’s chatter.

“That’s what I heard too,” Cate said, enjoying her incognito role.

“Do you know what they did with the bones?” Naomi asked in the same loud whisper.

The teen employee pulled out his phone and leaned against the back counter, seeing his chatty customers weren’t ready to order.

“Ummm . . . I heard the coroner has them and will get them to the mainland when the ferry is back.” Cate tried to look as excited about the gossip as Naomi. It wasn’t possible. “Have you heard any rumors about who it is or what happened?”

“Well,” Naomi stated with authority. “That author who lives on the island . . . his daughter has been missing for a few years.” She leaned closer to Cate, her eyes animated. “He’s a loner, rarely leaves the island. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d done something to her . . . or that nephew of his. I don’t like him at all.”

“What’s wrong with the nephew?” Cate whispered conspiratorially.

“His credit card was declined at the restaurant, and ohhhhh, you should have seen how angry he was. You’d think I’d done it on purpose.”

“He is a spoiled jerk.” Milton spoke for the first time, still sounding as formal as when Cate had met him that afternoon.

Naomi nodded enthusiastically. “Milton had to escort him out.”

“Are you going to order?” the teen asked, still on his phone, his thumbs tapping rapidly.

Naomi and Milton turned back to the counter, and Cate exhaled. Acting was hard. The couple ordered a vanilla and a normal mint chip cone. They said—Naomi said—goodbye to Cate as they left. Cate stepped forward and eyed the small tubs behind the glass. This would be her dinner. “A scoop of white chocolate curry.”

“That’s the best,” the teen mumbled as he scooped it up.

Driving home, with one hand on the steering wheel as she ate her cone, Cate agreed.





9


Henry parked behind his clinic the next morning.

Even though the practice was small, it filled him with pride every time he saw the building. He was making a difference on the island and didn’t know how the residents had survived without a doctor for so long. He looked forward to the rush of the tourist season and wondered if it’d feel as if he was back in a busy LA emergency room. Probably not. He grabbed his bag out of the back seat, imagining a line of tourists with swimmer’s ear and allergy problems. Not LA car accident or shooting victims.