Bred in the Bone (Widow's Island #4)(9)

Is she avoiding my question about Brad?

“Rosa, if Travis hasn’t been here in ages, why hurt Brad today?” Cate asked, studying the woman. Kurt continued to keep a protective hand on Rosa’s shoulder. There were occasional flashes of confusion in his eyes that Cate knew were also appearing in her own.

“Oh, you girls.” She looked from Cate to Tessa, her eyes welling again. “Why did it have to be you two here today?”

Alarm raced up Cate’s spine, premonition spiking. “Rosa . . . is something going to happen?” She surveyed the small store, not sure what she was looking for, and the deputies did the same. The cat met her gaze and slowly blinked, making Cate feel she’d been judged.

“No . . . no, everything has already happened.” Her face crinkled. “I’m so sorry, girls.”

Does she think Tessa and I are children?

Hair rose on the back of Cate’s neck, and an odd prickling started in her stomach.

“Why are you sorry, Rosa?” Cate forced out.

The woman closed her eyes for a long moment, her chin quivering. “Because my Travis accidentally killed your friend Samantha all those years ago.”

A buzz started in Cate’s ears. Samantha is dead?

“Travis killed Samantha?” Kurt asked in a choked voice. “Twenty years ago? You knew and never told anyone?”

Rosa covered her face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want him to get in trouble back then. It was an accident.”

Cate sat down, her legs shaking and icy. Tessa hadn’t moved a muscle, her eyes locked on Rosa.

“Is this true, Rosa?” Tessa asked, her voice rough.

Her hands still over her face, Rosa nodded.

“What happened?” Cate’s voice quivered.

“He told me they were partying . . . getting high and drinking, I think.” Rosa lowered her arms, but her gaze was downcast. “He said he woke up, and she was blue . . . then he panicked.”

The buzz in Cate’s head grew into a chainsaw.

“It was an accident,” Rosa repeated. “It wasn’t intentional.”

“Where is she?” Tessa asked through white lips.

“He weighted her down and put her in the ocean. I don’t know where.” Rosa bent over, her entire body trembling. “I told him to get off the island and not come back.” Wet sobs started again. “He’s never been back.”

“But why did you hit Brad with your car today?” Kurt asked.

“Brad was with them that night, and then he helped Travis hide her body.”

Two people have known what happened to Samantha. Three including Rosa.

“When I heard the necklace had been found on Jon Gill’s old property, I knew the investigation would eventually include Brad. And he’d tell them what Travis did.” She raised her head, her eyes showing her pain. “I couldn’t let that happen to my son.”

She killed Brad to keep him quiet.

Cate closed her eyes.

Samantha has been alone in the ocean for twenty years.



“I can’t find a work history or credit history for Travis Underwood,” Cate’s boss, Phillip, told her over the phone the next morning. “He could be using another name . . . or maybe he’s dead. His driver’s license was never renewed when it expired a long time ago.”

“His mother estimates she got an email from him within the last three years but hasn’t heard from him since.”

“Well, I’ve contacted the county sheriff near Blaine. They’re going to get some eyes on the property and see if he’s there. They think it’s possibly abandoned. Are you sure the mother won’t try to get a message to her son?”

“Rosa is currently in a cell,” said Cate. “She said she doesn’t need to call anyone, and she doesn’t have internet access. I don’t see how she could.”

I need to check on her cat at the bookstore.

The cat’s name was Ghost. He had jumped down and vanished between the shelves as Kurt took Rosa away.

“What about other people who might warn Travis Underwood? Maybe some friends that are still on the island?”

“I don’t think he has friends,” Cate answered. “We did our best to keep Rosa’s confession quiet, but somehow the word got out. Half the island is mourning Samantha already.” She swallowed hard. Nonstop messages had been rolling in from concerned islanders, expressing sorrow at the confirmation of Sam’s death.

“You holding up okay?” Phillip asked gently. “I know you were close.”

“It was a long time ago,” Cate said. “I think deep down, I knew she was gone . . . I just didn’t want to admit it. That would be giving up.”

“How about your wound?”

Cate was quiet for a long moment. “It’s much better, but, Phillip . . . ” She struggled to continue, hating to voice her weakness. “I’ve had some bad moments. Panicking when I shouldn’t be. I think I need to talk to someone again before I return to work. I need to be steady, and I’m not.” The phone shook in her hand.

“It’s okay, Cate,” Phillip reassured her. “No one can experience what you did without some lingering trauma. I expected it even if you didn’t. We’ll get you set up with someone again when you come back to town and keep you at a desk until you’re ready. Light duty.”