Until someone pissed him off. Then the eyes went cold.
His eyes had also stuck in Cate’s brain. Icy blue. Unique. Startling.
“You can do this, Cate. I need you on this.”
“When do you want to go?” The words had rolled off her tongue before they’d formed in her mind. Her body was making decisions without her.
“Tomorrow. I’ll make the calls.”
“I want Henry to come with me.”
Mike paused. “Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll get him clearance.”
“Thank you.” She ended the call, exhaled heavily, and continued to study the sky. Her emotions were a confusing jumble. Elation, anxiety, regret.
Why did I ask for Henry?
She didn’t need him to hold her hand.
Do I?
She hadn’t left the island since they had brought back Sam last winter. It’d been an unpleasant trip, with Cate feeling nauseated and off balance a lot of the time. Henry too.
If she had to leave the island, she wanted him with her. The feeling was visceral.
An icy breeze touched her neck, and she straightened, scouring her surroundings.
She saw nothing.
“Did I make the right choice?” she asked the empty air.
Silence.
But her conflicting emotions vanished and left her with confidence. She’d done the right thing.
“Thanks, Ruby,” she whispered.
6
“Room three,” Julie told Henry. “Sore throat.”
“Thanks.” Henry strode down the hallway of his clinic. Business had cranked up since the tourist season had started. More business was always good, but it made him feel rushed. He’d grown used to talking with his local patients for longer periods of time, catching up on what was going on with their families and businesses.
Oddly, all the locals seemed to have stayed healthy as tourist season kicked in. Now he’d go a few days without seeing a familiar face in his waiting room. The tourists brought him mostly sore throats, earaches, upset stomachs, and the occasional broken bone. His nurse, Julie, was an organizational queen. She thrived on the increased pace and kept him on track.
He’d expanded the clinic, bought new equipment, and was in the process of setting up virtual visits so he’d be accessible to the surrounding islands that didn’t have medical care.
It felt good. He was making a difference, and he was happy. Not stressed out of his mind and crushed by the depth of the unmet medical needs he’d seen every day in LA.
His tiny laptop open and balanced on one hand, he knocked on room three’s door, paused for two seconds, and then opened it. A woman sat on the exam table, looking at him expectantly.
Tourist.
He’d glanced at her name, vitals, and complaint, which Julie had typed in her digital chart. “Afternoon, Wendy. Julie tells me you’ve been exposed to strep, and now your throat is sore?”
“That’s right.” Wendy nodded emphatically. “Hurts pretty bad.”
Henry set his computer on the counter and washed his hands, taking a quick visual survey of his patient. Her chart said she was twenty-eight, but in person she seemed ten years older. Her dishwater-blonde hair was straight and stringy. She seemed very thin and had dark shadows under her eyes. Her jeans were stained, and her tank top seemed too big.
Not the usual tourist.
Widow’s Island could be an expensive place to vacation. Most of the visitors were upper-middle class. But the island also attracted a small less affluent group that came to live simply and be as close to nature as possible. Wendy appeared to be the latter.
Henry did a quick exam as he questioned her about her symptoms and asked a few polite small talk questions.
“I like the island,” she told him. “I’ve been meaning to come for years.” She lowered her voice. “But I hear you’ve got a crime problem.” Her green eyes grew wide.
“Crime?”
“Yeah. Heard there’s been some murders.”
Henry frowned as he typed notes in her chart. “I don’t think so. I would know about that.”
“I guess they’re old, though.”
“The victims were old?”
“No, the murders.”
He paused and looked her full in the face. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Disappointment flashed in her gaze. “I heard there were some bodies buried in the forest. Someone said you were there as the coroner.”
“Oh.” The gossip has reached the tourists. “That’s not quite accurate. And definitely not something to be worried about during your stay on the island.”
“What did they find?”
“It’s a police matter right now. I don’t want to give any incorrect information. I really don’t know much anyway.”
“Do they have any leads? Do they know how many victims there are?”
He held her gaze. “I don’t know much,” he said slowly, emphasizing each word.
“Don’t you think the public should know what’s going on?” Wendy asked. “It’s important to feel safe. It’d be nice to know if they have a suspect.”
He ignored her question. “I’m going to do a quick strep test,” Henry told her. “I’ll also send it to the lab for a culture. It’s more accurate.”
He swabbed the back of her perfectly healthy-looking throat. “Sit tight, and I’ll have the results for you soon.” He picked up his computer and left, deciding he would have Julie deliver the results of what he suspected would be a negative test. In the hall he eyed her chart again. Wendy Ruell.
How do I know that name?
Luke Ruell. The kayak-rental-shop owner who had shown up as they’d investigated the grave in the state park. The one Tessa had said had been weird with the ice cream. The man flashed in Henry’s memory. Skinny. Rough around the edges. “Wendy has to be a sister or something,” Henry muttered. “He must have told her, and now she’s curious.”
But how did she know there was more than one victim?
Henry froze, certain Luke had left before the discussion about more graves and that the news that more had been found had been kept silent.
Someone could have talked.
Mike had emphasized that he wanted the body count kept quiet for now. No doubt the news of the first grave had spread, but Henry didn’t think the findings of multiple graves had. He needed to call Tessa to ask if other details had been released.
He strode down the hall to the front-desk area and found Bruce leaning over the counter, ogling his girlfriend. Both straightened and gave Henry sheepish looks.
“Bruce, you’re just who I need to see. Can I talk to you in back? Julie, can you process Wendy’s strep test while we talk?”
“Yep.” Bruce winked at Julie and followed Henry to an exam room. “What’s up?”
“Do you know if the news of the second and third graves has been made public?”
“It hasn’t. Mike was clear about keeping everything quiet for now, and Tessa agreed. Made us all swear to silence.”
“Does Julie know?”
Bruce pinkened. “Yeah. She doesn’t count. I’m sure Tessa told her guy.”
“So it’s possible word got around.”
“I seriously doubt it. We know who we can trust.” Bruce scowled. “What happened?”
“Remember Luke Ruell?”
“Yeah. Ice cream man.”
“His sister—or some sort of relative named Wendy Ruell—just asked me about ‘some bodies’ buried in the state park. She also pressed to know if you had a suspect or not.” Henry thought for a moment. “She came in with a sore throat, wanting a strep test, but I suspect she was fishing for information.”
Bruce pressed his lips together. “I’ve never cared for Luke. He just slinks around the island. Always see him in weird places. Tessa might believe he’s harmless, but he was there yesterday morning.”
“Could be a coincidence.”
“I know. But he rubs me the wrong way, you know?”
“Or he could have been watching today,” said Bruce. “I stayed in the area for several hours yesterday after you and Tessa left. No one wandered in. But I swear I saw color in the woods at one point. Heard footsteps too. But that could have been an animal.”
“The color wouldn’t be an animal.”
“Kurt had part of the night watch. He told me he thought he heard someone, so he just yelled for them to get out of the area.”
“I’d leave if Kurt yelled at me,” said Henry, thinking of the tough older deputy.
Bruce laughed. “Me too. He’s old enough to be my grandfather, but I wouldn’t mess with him. Anyway, my point is that someone wanted to snoop.”
“Wendy really wanted to know if we had a suspect. Asked twice.”
“Like she was worried for Luke?”
“Or he sent her to see which direction the investigation was heading.”
The two men were silent for a long moment.
“Nah,” Bruce said. “Luke can’t be involved. The dude can barely rent out a kayak without screwing up something. There’s no way he killed and buried three bodies with no one knowing. But I’ll tell Tessa. Maybe she needs to have a talk with Luke.”
Julie knocked and opened the door. “The strep test is negative.”
“Let her know, and tell her we’ll call if the culture comes back positive.” Henry looked at Bruce. “Which it won’t.” Julie nodded and vanished.
“I feel like I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” Henry said. “We can’t know what gossip is out there.”
“Trust me,” said Bruce. “I’d be hearing right and left that there were multiple graves if the word was out. I’ve had several questions about the first grave, but no one has asked if there are more. I think it was worth mentioning to me. Always better to say something than ignore that gut feeling.”
“I agree,” said Henry. He walked Bruce out front. There was no sign of Wendy Ruell. “Wendy leave already?” he asked Julie.
“Yep. As soon as I told her the results, she was out of here.”
Henry exchanged a glance with Bruce, who shrugged.
The deputy gave Julie a quick kiss. “My mom will be in her new place by evening.”
“Thank you,” said Julie. “You know I love your mother, but . . .”
“Of course you do. Everybody loves her.” Bruce grinned. “I understand.”
Henry was glad he and Cate had their own space. He loved Jane, but if he and Cate and her grandmother had to live in a place as small as Bruce’s, he’d be searching for a solution too.
Bruce winked at Julie as he left.
Henry liked the young couple. Even though they’d been together over a year, they were still starry eyed when they saw each other.
I’m pretty sure I look like that around Cate.
“I’ve got two patients waiting for you in exam rooms,” Julie said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Henry sighed, wishing the day were over. “On it.”
7
The FBI had arranged for a small plane from Widow’s Island to Aberdeen, Washington. From there it had been a quick car ride to the prison. During the hour-long flight, Cate had enjoyed the bird’s-eye view of the snowy Olympic Mountains and the deep greens of its forests.
There’d been a small knot in the pit of her stomach from the moment the plane had taken off, and now as she waited to enter the prison, it felt as though she’d stepped off a boat. The subtle rocking made her breathe deep to stay focused.
Why did I agree to this?
She rubbed a damp palm against the hip of her pantsuit. When she’d put it on this morning, it’d felt foreign. She’d straightened her long black hair and parted it directly in the center. It was more severe than her usual casual waves and side part. After eyeing the severe hairstyle, she’d added a dark-red lipstick, and an unfamiliar woman had been reflected in the mirror.
The hairstyle was a piece of armor. Like the pantsuit.
Am I nervous?
A little.
She and Mike had discussed using Lamb’s old interest in her to their advantage. Jeff Lamb might no longer be attracted to her, but it was worth a try.
Henry had done a double take when he’d first seen her. Surprise had lit his eyes—and then amusement. “You look great, Cate. Sort of a sexy-librarian vibe going on. Got any reading glasses?”
He’d laughed at her withering look. “Yep. Definitely librarian.”
As they walked toward the prison, Henry gave her hand a squeeze and promptly dropped it. She’d told him not to show any affection inside the prison. Their private life needed to remain private. Especially in front of Lamb.
They met Mike at the prison. She followed him in and watched as he checked his weapon. She started to reach for the weapon she’d once carried at her side and had a flash of panic at its missing weight. When she’d first returned to Widow’s, she’d had the same reaction a number of times. But now it’d been months since she’d reached for it.
The three of them were led to a small interview room. Two chairs on one side of a table and a single chair on the other. “Need another chair?” asked the guard.
“I’ll stand,” said Henry.
They’d discussed strategy that morning. Henry was to stay silent, and Mike wanted him to stand against a wall. “Just look focused. Don’t let your gaze stray from Lamb. I want him to feel that third set of eyes studying him. Don’t let anything he says get to you.” Mike had paused. “And especially don’t let anything he says to Cate get to you. Be ready for him to be an asshole to her.”
Henry’s lips had quirked. “Got it. I’m looking forward to the show.”
In the room, Cate wrinkled her nose. It smelled like a locker room. Old sweat and industrial cleaning agents. She took a seat and waited, ignoring that her heart was trying to pound its way out of her chest.
I’ve done this dozens of times. No big deal.
Mike sat beside her, his metal chair scraping the tile floor. “How do you think Lamb will be?” he asked Cate in a low voice.
“Curious. Cocky. His usual asshole self. Just eight years older.”
“Agreed.”
A guard opened the door and brought Lamb in.
He looks fifteen years older, not eight.
Lamb had been a tall muscular man. He still was tall, but he’d thinned down. He looked more wiry than muscular. No excess fat. More lines in his face. More gray in his hair.
Same damned ice-blue eyes.
His gaze shot straight to her, and Cate physically felt his pleasure at seeing her. He’d always commanded a room with his presence; he still did. The orange jumpsuit and manacles made no difference. He held her gaze as he sat and waited for the guard to fasten him to the table. His lips curved up as the guard stepped back. “Good to see you, Cate. I’m very surprised. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure.”
“You weren’t told that it would be Agent Scarn and myself?”
“No. All I was told was it was an FBI visit. You’ve made my day . . . my week.” His gaze went to Henry and he looked him up and down, dismissing him. He looked back to Cate. “You’ve changed your hair. And it’s longer.”
“So is yours.”
“What can I do for you today?” Lamb asked, as if he were taking their drink order.
“I thought it’d be good to catch up,” said Mike. “Maybe there’s something you’d like to share with us.”
“Like what?”
“Anything to do with your case. Think of anything new that we should know about?”
Lamb raised his chin a fraction. “You’re being very vague. If there’s something you want to ask me, ask it. Don’t dick around.”
Good. Let him think he has control of the interview.
“We found something on Widow’s Island that you might know about,” said Mike.
Lamb’s brows rose. “Cate’s h
ometown? Surely she would know more about something there than I would.”
Of course he’s figured out where I’m from.
Still creepy.
“Ever spend any time there?” asked Mike.
“I never have.”
“Know anyone that has?”
“Besides our Cate?” Lamb asked.
Our Cate?
Cate was proud she didn’t flinch.
“I’m sure I know lots of people who’ve been there. You’re being vague again, Special Agent Scarn.” He turned to Cate. “Maybe you should ask the questions.”
“We found three graves: three women, three lockets. All in a straight line.”
Lamb was motionless. But Cate saw the surprise in his eyes. A faint dilation of his pupils.
But is he surprised by the news or surprised that we know?
“I don’t know anything about those graves,” Lamb stated. “Maybe we could talk about politics? I know lots about that . . . have a lot of opinions that I’d be happy to share with you.”
“No,” said Cate and Mike together.
“You found all my women,” Lamb told them. “There are no more.”
My women.
She wanted to vomit.
“It seems like a very big coincidence, then,” Cate said. “Surely you have an opinion to share on that.”
His eyes seemed to brighten in intensity. “The reason I was surprised to see you, Cate, is because I heard you quit the bureau.”
He’s attempting to rattle me.
“Sounds like your sources aren’t very accurate,” said Cate, wondering how that news had reached his ears.
“Hmm.” His gaze went to Henry again. “Silent fellow, isn’t he?”
“If you know nothing about these graves, then who would?” Cate asked, pulling his attention back to her.
Lamb shrugged. “I have fans. I get mail.”
“So you’ve shared that the photos were in lockets left with the bodies. We kept that out of the press, and as far as my research shows, it never was mentioned. Did you tell one of your fans?”
“No.”
“Try again,” said Cate.
“The public knows I left photos.”
“They didn’t know about the lockets,” Cate repeated.
Below the Bones Page 4