Whisper of Bones (Widow's Island #3)(21)

She paused and rubbed the small of her back, which ached from her twenty-pound duty belt. “I find it very interesting that the sheriff’s department and FBI collaborated on Sam’s case, yet neither file is complete. Was the sheriff covering up for someone, or was he just completely convinced that Sam fell and was washed out to sea?”

“We don’t know if he purposefully excluded our interviews or just didn’t bother to write them up. I wish he was still alive so we could ask him.” Cate breathed out a sigh of frustration. “We’ve been considering Sam fell or was taken. Could she have run away?”

“She would have mentioned it to one of us if she was thinking about leaving. We told each other everything back then.”

“Except she didn’t tell us who her ride was that night.”

“No, but she didn’t keep her plans entirely to herself.” Tessa shook her head. “I’d say Sam running away is a long shot.”

“I agree, but we need to keep our minds open,” Cate said. “Or there’s no point in reopening the case.”

“True,” Tessa agreed. “What’s our next step?”

“We start asking questions.” Cate’s voice was firm.

“We won’t be able to keep our activity under the radar,” Tessa said. “Everyone will know we’re reopening the case.”

Cate nodded. “Yes. It’s time. We’ve reviewed the case files, and we have more questions than when we started.”

A sad smile tugged at the corners of Tessa’s mouth. “I feel like we should pinky swear to solve the case, like we used to do with Sam.”

“That reminds me. Look what I found in my room here the other day.” Cate reached under the neck of her shirt and pulled out a child-size necklace. One-third of a heart dangled from the chain.

“Mine is in my jewelry box.” Tessa’s heart felt as jagged as the edges of the charm. As girls, the three of them had worn their necklaces everywhere.

“Do you think Sam is dead?” Cate asked.

“I don’t know. I want to believe she could be alive, but it’s been a very long time. I think the best we can hope for is closure.”

They were both in law enforcement. They knew the odds. Child abduction by violent predators was actually very rare. Most kids reported missing ran away, got lost, or simply failed to communicate their whereabouts to their parents. But among abducted children who were murdered, three-quarters of them were killed within three hours of their kidnapping.

“Hold on.” Tessa went to her bedroom, opened her jewelry box, and removed the top tray. She pulled out a small velvet box and opened it. Her piece of the heart dangled on a delicate chain. She returned to the kitchen and fastened the necklace around her neck.

The metal felt cold on Tessa’s skin. “All I know is that we need to find out.”

Tires grated outside, and a car door slammed.

Tessa glanced out the window. “Patience is home.”

She and Cate both closed their files before the door opened and Tessa’s younger sister walked in. Patience’s gaze swept the kitchen, her tense features softening. Sadness passed through Tessa. Patience was relieved not to see their mother in the kitchen. For the past few weeks, the teenager had avoided their mother as much as possible. Tessa had no clue how to handle the situation. Like many dementia patients, her mom recalled distant memories better than current ones. She still knew Tessa but not Patience. How did you help a teen whose own mother had forgotten her?

Tessa made a note to talk to the school counselor. She’d never felt so helpless in her life. Her mother’s illness was a boat heading into a squall, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Did you get your schoolwork done?” Tessa asked.

“Uh-huh.” Patience dropped her backpack on a chair. “And Mallory’s mom made spaghetti and meatballs.”

Tessa needed to thank Mallory’s mom. “That’s great.”

The shuffle of slippers on hardwood sounded from the direction of the bedrooms. Mom was awake and moving around her room.

Patience glanced at the doorway, her face tightening again.

Tessa’s belly echoed the tension on her sister’s face. She wanted Patience to spend time with Mom, but not after dark. For Mom and everyone around her, nighttime was full of confusion, fear, and frustration.

Patience hefted her backpack strap over one shoulder. “I’m going to my room to study.”

“Good night.” Tessa knew she wouldn’t see her sister until daylight.

Cate stood, her file tucked under her arm. “I’ll make a list of preliminary interviews. I suppose we should start with Sam’s mom, though I’m not sure how reliable her memory is. She hasn’t been quite right since Sam disappeared.”

Tessa walked her to the door. “Kurt Olson was a deputy back then. The sheriff kept Sam’s investigation close, but Kurt might remember some details.”

“Then that’s where we’ll start.”

Tessa watched Cate walk to her vehicle and drive away. Then she turned back to the kitchen.

Her mother stood in the doorway, shivering in a thin cotton nightgown. Her eyes were cloudy. “Where is Barbara?”

“Barbara is in Seattle.”

Mom’s cousin had moved off the island twenty years before, but Tessa didn’t say it. In the daytime, she tried to help her mother remember, but at night, pointing out her mother’s failing memory only made her more anxious.