The Lost Bones (Widow's Island #8)(6)

George Aston was quite gruff but told Cate she could come tomorrow morning at ten. Cate agreed, and he said goodbye.

Not one for small talk.

She remembered Ellen as being the talker of the two and then wondered if her grandmother had met Ellen.

Of course she has.

She glanced at the time, and her stomach growled. She and Henry had plans in ten minutes for dinner on the Harbor View Inn’s deck.

She rattled the paper one last time for Ghost, enjoying the sight of the black cat’s happy thrashing, and then left, ready to tell Henry of the latest development.

This case will haunt me until I find out what happened to Jade.





3


Cate was late.

Henry sipped his wine and enjoyed the sights from the Harbor View Inn’s large deck. He was surrounded by tables of tourists and the occasional group of locals. He nodded across the room at Rex Conan, the famous mystery novelist who lived in the mansion on the tiny island in the center of Widow’s Bay. The older author lifted his cocktail in acknowledgment of Henry and continued his conversation with a woman Henry didn’t recognize. The way the two of them leaned toward each other made Henry smile. It was good to see the reclusive writer with a love interest.

The air was warm, and the sun was still high. Sunlight lasted late into the evenings in July on the island. As Henry relaxed and watched the boats sail around the blue bay, he recognized for the umpteenth time that he’d moved to paradise.

A movement caught his eye, and he turned to see Cate crossing the deck.

God, she’s beautiful.

Tall with dark hair and blue eyes, she moved with a confidence that turned several heads. She stopped a few times to greet people she knew, and he enjoyed watching her interact. She gave genuine wide smiles and would casually touch a neighbor’s arm. Faces lit up as she spoke with people.

Henry had moved over a thousand miles, something pulling him to this remote corner of the Pacific Northwest. Cate’s grandmother, Jane, had told him it was the island. It drew people from around the world.

Henry suspected it had been Cate.

Cate is connected to the island.

Her ancestors were an integral part of the island’s notorious history. A history of betrayal, lust, and possibly murder. Widow’s Island capitalized on its colorful past, using it to attract and tempt the tourists, who were its lifeblood.

But the gorgeous setting is the primary attraction.

Rural farming areas. Forests. And the ocean. All with a small-town atmosphere. A bit of everything packed into a small space.

He stood as Cate reached their table, and they kissed. She smelled of brownies, books, and fresh air. Her skin was warm to his touch on the small of her back. She slid into the chair next to him and picked up the glass of wine he’d ordered for her. Her eyes glowed as she clinked his glass. “To blue skies and blue water.”

“Blue water,” he echoed. It wasn’t just Cate’s eyes that glowed; he sensed anticipation simmering inside her.

Something about the missing-child case has created a fresh energy.

“Oh, crap.” Cate froze, her wineglass at her lips, her gaze locked on a man across the deck who was talking to a waiter. “What day is it today?”

Henry choked back a laugh. “It’s not Thursday. Don’t worry. He’s not scheduled to play tonight.” Cate had spotted Herb, who always provided live music on Thursdays at the Harbor View Inn. Herb and his oboe weren’t to everyone’s taste—especially Henry’s and Cate’s. Herb liked to play his instrument in close proximity to his audience members, his hips and shoulders in constant movement.

Henry’s first attendance at one of Herb’s performances rated high on his list of awkward and uncomfortable moments.

The relief on Cate’s face was almost comical. “Thank you, sweet baby Jesus. I want to enjoy our evening in peace.” She took a large swallow of wine and relaxed into her chair. “How was your afternoon?”

“I set up an interview with a nurse practitioner who’s considering a move to the island. She’s visited several times and loves it.”

“Good! You need help. It’s not fair that you’re the sole provider on the island. I’m tired of people calling late on Friday night because they have a sore throat. I don’t care what she’s like; hire her.”

He knew Cate wasn’t serious, but she had a good point about him being on call twenty-four seven. “What do you think about me asking Jane to interview her too?”

Cate raised a brow. “She’s a good judge of character.”

“Do you think she’d be able to tell if someone would stick around or leave the island in three months? I hate to invest time and money in someone, only to have them realize island life isn’t for them.” He’d admired Jane’s deep insight about people ever since he’d met her.

“Oh, I see what you’re asking.” Cate appeared to ponder his question as she looked out at the blue water. “It’s not a magic trick. I don’t think Jane reads a message about the future on anyone’s forehead.”

“When I first met Jane, she knew I’d stay.”

Cate shrugged. “Then ask her. I’m sure she’d love to help you.”

Henry took one of Cate’s hands. “Now. Tell me what happened this afternoon. You look like you can hardly sit still. Good news from the agency about your old case, I hope?”