Whisper of Bones (Widow's Island #3)(20)

Tessa set her on a roost. “You should be grateful. If I left you outside all night, you’d be fox food.”

Killer Hen cocked her head and glared up at Tessa with beady black eyes. The hen had the upper hand, and she knew it. The chickens were one of the few things that Tessa’s mother still enjoyed.

Tessa closed the coop and left the enclosure, making sure the gate was securely latched. In the house, she shed her coat and stared at the boxes of Christmas lights piled near the door.

Tomorrow.

She went into the kitchen. Cate sat at the table. A familiar sweet scent made Tessa’s stomach growl. “Do I smell your grandmother’s cinnamon rolls?”

“You do.” Cate stood, her face alarmed. “What happened to you?”

Tessa looked down. Red marks covered her hands and forearms. “Killer Hen was loose.”

Cate chuckled. “That chicken eats out of your mother’s hand.”

“I know. I suspect she sees me as competition for my mother’s attention.” Tessa thoroughly washed her hands and arms in the sink. “I’m thrilled to see you. But I thought your grandmother would be here today.”

“She was here earlier. I traded places with her.” Cate handed Tessa a dish towel. “I wanted to review Sam’s case with you. Do you have time?”

“Yes. I’m waiting on forensics. Tonight, all I had planned was typing reports. I have to remind myself it’s only been two days, and this isn’t Seattle. Nothing happens immediately here.”

“I can provide an entire tray of my grandmother’s cinnamon rolls if you need a bribe for the lab techs.”

“I’ll think about it.” Tessa laughed. Her nose caught the scent of melted cheese. “Do I smell food too?”

“Jane sent a casserole.”

“Bless her. Your grandmother is the best.” Tessa tossed the towel onto the counter, opened a drawer, and took out a box of Band-Aids. She wrapped one around her finger, where Killer Hen had drawn blood. Three Band-Aids later, she looked ridiculous. “Where are my sister and mom?”

“Patience went to Mallory’s house for dinner. They had a school project to work on. Mallory’s mother will bring her back after dinner.” Cate’s brows rose in a question. “She said you would approve.”

“I do.”

Before the knitting ladies had taken charge of her mom, Patience had spent too much time trying to cope with their mother’s illness. It had been far too much responsibility for a teenager. With the knitting ladies helping out, Patience could be a kid.

“Your mother had some soup about an hour ago and went to her room to lie down.” Cate checked her watch. “I was just going to check on her.”

“I’ll do it.” Tessa turned. “Her hours are getting mixed up. She’s awake and restless half the night and exhausted in the daytime.”

And so was Tessa.

She headed for the bedrooms. In the hallway, she cracked open her mother’s door a few inches. Her mom lay flat on her back, her hands flung out, snoring loudly. Waking her now would only agitate her. Tessa softly closed the door and went to her own room. She secured her weapon in its safe, then changed her uniform for jeans and a sweatshirt before rejoining Cate in the kitchen.

Cate cut a slice of casserole. Tessa declined a glass of wine and brewed coffee instead. She could not afford to sleep too deeply, not when her mother might wander at any given time. Without the alarms Logan had installed on the windows and doors, Tessa would be afraid to close her eyes at all.

Fifteen minutes later, Tessa carried her empty plate to the sink. “Tell your grandmother thank you. I can’t possibly repay her for all she does.”

Cate smiled. “She enjoys every minute of helping people. She couldn’t mind her own business if she tried.”

Tessa put their plates in the dishwasher, then poured coffee into two mugs and carried them to the table. “Now, where are we on Sam’s case?”

A few weeks before, Sam’s mother had begged Cate and Tessa to look into her daughter’s disappearance. Sam’s father had committed suicide not long after his daughter had gone missing, but Mrs. Bishop still lived on Widow’s Island. She’d never believed that Sam was dead.

“I brought the file.” Cate crossed the room to her bag and removed the FBI file. “Not that there’s much in it.”

Tessa fetched the sheriff’s department file from her bedroom. She opened it on the table. “Let’s recap. The day Sam disappeared, she wanted us to meet her at Widow’s Walk at midnight. She said she had pot and that she had a ‘ride,’ but she wouldn’t tell us who with. Neither one of us was willing to sneak out.”

At fourteen, Sam had had less adult supervision than Tessa and Cate.

“At the time, I assumed she was meeting a boy, but she never actually said she was,” Cate said.

“No, she didn’t. That’s the impression I had too, but we shouldn’t make assumptions.” Tessa sat across from Cate. “It could have been anyone.”

“We never saw Sam again.” Cate finished the story.

“Her jacket was found at Widow’s Walk the next morning. The sheriff’s department was called in, and a search was organized. The investigation went nowhere.”

Tessa flipped through the reports in the file. “We told the sheriff about Sam’s plans that night, but no one followed up on the lead. Our interviews are missing from both files.”