Buried Bones (Widow's Island Novella)

by Melinda Leigh

  The primary sheriff’s station was on the mainland. The Widow’s Island deputies operated autonomously when possible.

  “Let’s see if her phone will turn on,” Tessa said.

  Logan picked up the phone. It blinked to life, and the lock screen appeared. “We’ll need her passcode. Maybe Tony or Sky know it.”

  “Girls tell their friends more than their parents. I’ll try Sky first.” Tessa placed the call. She spoke with the girl for a minute and ended the call. “She gave me a number to try.” She repeated it for Logan.

  He entered it into the screen, and a selfie of Aurora on the Widow’s Island ferry appeared as the background. “That’s it.”

  Tessa sidled up next to him, and they looked at the phone together. “Check her texts.”

  Logan opened the app and scrolled through a week’s worth of messages. “There are a few text chains labeled with women’s names. In the text chain with Sky, the last time Aurora responded was on May tenth. Sky texted a few times after that, but Aurora didn’t respond.”

  “Confirming what Sky told us,” Tessa said. “Sky and Tony both said she wanted some space.”

  “Yes.” Logan understood the need to be alone. When he’d returned to Widow’s after being deployed in the Middle East, all he’d wanted was hours and hours alone in the damp, cool forest.

  “We’ll have to identify Aurora’s other recent contacts. How about phone calls?”

  “A couple with Sky.” Logan tapped the screen. “There’s the one with her dad on May fourth. Here’s a number that called Aurora numerous times. It seems like she didn’t answer.”

  “Spam maybe? Plenty of people don’t answer calls if they don’t know the caller. We’ll find out who owns that number from the phone company,” Tessa said.

  “The last few calls she made were to local exchanges.”

  Tessa pointed to the screen. “That’s the Black Tail Bakery’s number. I don’t see any repeats.”

  “She was new to the island,” Logan said. “She could have been calling around for business hours, et cetera.”

  “We’ll ID all her calls for the last two weeks of activity. But it’s strange. She should have a bunch of calls and texts with the boyfriend. Do you see any pics of the boyfriend in her photos?”

  Logan scrolled. “No sign of a recent boyfriend.”

  “If they broke up, she might have deleted his messages and photos.” Tessa propped a hand on her hip. “I already requested warrants for her phone and financial records, but it’s been more than thirty days. It’s unlikely the cell phone provider still has them on record.”

  “What now?” Logan lowered the phone.

  “We start with photos, fingerprints, and evidence collection in the cottage.” Tessa turned in a circle. “Though there’s no sign of a struggle in here, we just don’t know if she was killed in here or elsewhere. For now, we’ll seal the unit as a crime scene.”

  “Earl isn’t going to like that.”

  “Too bad.” Tessa shrugged. “We also need background checks on Aurora’s dad and Sky, plus Chad, Earl, and Wanda.” She checked her watch. “I’ll see if Bruce will do those while we take care of securing this scene and collecting evidence.” She made a quick call to her fellow deputy. “He’ll do it. Let’s get busy.”

  They spent the next two hours searching every inch of the cottage. They dusted high-touch surfaces for fingerprints, photographed every room, and delved into Aurora’s personal possessions. Tessa rifled through Aurora’s clothes in the dresser while Logan checked the pockets of her clothes in the closet. In the end, they hadn’t collected as much evidence as they would have liked. They took her phone and laptop. Tessa called Sky and Tony, but neither of them knew the password for the computer.

  Tessa filled out an evidence label. “I’ll have to send this to the geeks in the forensic lab on the mainland.”

  Logan bagged Aurora’s purse.

  Tessa’s phone vibrated. “It’s Bruce.” She answered the call. “You’re on speaker. Logan is here with me.”

  Bruce said, “I’m headed out on patrol, but I wanted to give you this info first. Aurora Franklin’s phone and bank records are in. Chad Nickelson used to be married to Cyndi Nickelson. I texted you her driver’s license photo and contact information. Also, I finished those background checks. Tony Franklin and Sky Eastbrooke are clean. So are Wanda Simms and Chad Nickelson.”

  Logan could hear the but in Bruce’s voice.

  “Chad has a restraining order filed by his ex-wife, Cyndi. He got drunk and threatened her.” Bruce sounded excited.

  “Sounds like Chad has a temper.” Logan tamped down a burst of anger. He hated men who harassed and intimidated women.

  “What about Earl?” Tessa asked.

  “You need to talk with him again too.” Bruce snorted. “Earl is a registered sex offender.”

  5

  Sitting behind the steering wheel, Tessa turned to her dashboard computer to open the email Bruce had sent detailing Earl’s criminal history. She scrolled through the information. “Earl has lived on Widow’s for six years. Eleven years ago, he was living in western Washington State, where he was convicted of rape. He served three years in prison before he was paroled. It looks like he moved here after his parole period ended.”

  “Lucky us,” Logan said from the passenger seat.

  “The sheriff’s department would have been notified, but that was before my time.” Tessa checked his motor vehicle records. No tickets. Earl’s address matched the one he’d given them. A white F-150 was registered to him. “It seems like he’s stayed out of legal trouble since then. Let’s go talk to him again.” Tessa drove back to the office of the Seaside Cottage Resort. “Bruce is requesting more information from the investigating officer.”

  Tessa led the way inside. Earl was alone, bent over the computer behind the registration desk. He looked up and scanned their faces. Sweat broke out on his forehead.

  Tessa strolled to the counter. “Hey, Earl.”

  Logan stepped up next to Tessa. His posture was rigid, and his anger palpable.

  Earl’s gaze paused on Logan. Earl straightened, swallowed, and took a step backward, the retreat seeming unconscious. “What?”

  Tessa tapped a hand on the counter. “So we know about the rape conviction.”

  Earl flushed. “That was bullshit. I didn’t rape anyone.” But despite his denial, his hands were shaking. He shoved them into his pockets.

  “How so?” Tessa asked, trying to keep her voice neutral. As much as sex offenders disgusted her, she wanted him to talk. If he grew uncooperative, she’d take him to the station for formal questioning. But she’d found people were more forthcoming with information in their own space, where they felt more comfortable. She could always increase the pressure, but once it was applied, it would be nearly impossible to make Earl relax again. The last thing she wanted was for him to lawyer up.

  Earl lifted his chin, and his jaw jutted. “I went out on a date. We had a great time, but we both drank too much. We went back to her place, and I spent the night. I woke up the next morning to her screaming that I raped her, that she didn’t give consent, which was a total lie. She wasn’t unconscious, and she acted willing enough. How was I supposed to know she wouldn’t remember being horny? Hell, I was hammered too. I don’t remember the whole night either.”

  “But you were convicted,” Tessa pointed out.

  “She was real convincing.” Earl’s voice turned bitter.

  “And you went to prison.” Tessa nodded. She doubted his innocence, but her opinion was irrelevant. Her current goal was to find out who had killed Aurora Franklin. If sounding as if she commiserated with Earl would make him more talkative, then so be it.

  Earl didn’t respond. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, as if agitated.

  “You seem angry.” Logan’s voice sounded tight but controlled.

  “Of course I’m angry,” Earl snapped. “That bitch put me away because she was ashamed she’d sle
pt with me. She ruined my life, and I didn’t do a damned thing wrong.”

  His inflection of the word bitch caught Tessa’s attention.

  “Do you hate women, Earl?” she asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Earl fired back. “Why would I hate all women? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. If you get mad at one guy because he was a dick, do you hate all men?”

  Tessa shrugged. “Some women do.”

  “Well, I have a current girlfriend, so clearly I don’t,” Earl huffed. “But I do hold a grudge against the one who put me in prison for no reason. Why am I to blame for us having sex when we were both drunk? Why doesn’t she get any of the responsibility? The whole thing was bullshit.”

  “Did your case go to trial?” Tessa asked.

  “No,” Earl grumbled. “My lawyer told me I’d get ten years if I went to trial, so I copped a plea. The system is fucked.”

  Tessa would research his case. Until then, she would move on. “When was the last time you were in unit twenty-one?”

  “I don’t remember exactly,” Earl said.

  “Have you been in the cottage since Aurora moved into it?” Tessa asked.

  “I don’t think so.” Earl bent over the computer and typed on the keyboard. A few seconds later, he said, “I did some routine maintenance on the unit in the beginning of May, before the girl rented it.”

  “What kind of maintenance?” Tessa asked.

  Earl’s attention returned to the computer. “I have a checklist for each season. I change the filters on the furnaces, check for plumbing leaks, caulk around windows and doors as needed, clean the refrigerator coils and dryer vents—that kind of thing. Letting maintenance slide can cost a lot of money down the road. Learned that the hard way.”

  So he’d basically touched everything.

  “Call me if you think of anything.” Tessa handed Earl her business card. “In the meantime, I’ve sealed the unit as a crime scene.”

  “You can’t do that!” Earl protested. “I was going to rent that unit out.”

  Tessa leveled Earl with a look. “It shouldn’t be for long. Besides, Aurora paid for the season, right?”

  He broke eye contact and tugged at his shirt collar. “Yeah. Okay. Fine.”

  “Don’t go near the cottage.” Tessa turned to the door. “We’ll be back.”

  They went outside and climbed into the SUV.

  “Do you believe his sob story?” Logan asked, his voice heavy with doubt.

  Tessa started the engine. “Criminals all claim to be innocent.” She sighed. “But who knows? Anyway, he’s been all over that unit. So if we find his fingerprints inside, it won’t mean anything.”

  “Yep.” Logan shook his head. “Now what?”

  “We still need to identify Aurora’s boyfriend.” Tessa drove out of the parking lot. “Let’s stop at the station and check out her financial and phone records. Credit and debit card statements can give us tons of information on Aurora’s movements and habits.” She tapped on the steering wheel.

  “And we need to talk to Chad Nickelson’s ex,” Logan added.

  “Definitely,” Tessa said. “Pissed-off ex-wives can be great sources of information.”

  But they didn’t get a half mile down the road before Tessa’s radio crackled. The dispatcher’s voice sounded. “Disturbance at Harlot Harbor Marina.”

  Tessa grabbed the mic. “Unit two, responding. ETA two minutes.” She returned the mic to its holder, switched on the light bar, and gunned the engine.

  She stomped the brakes in the parking lot. She and Logan jumped from the vehicle and headed for a commotion in front of the whale-watching tour company’s kiosk, fifty yards away.

  “You’re scum!” a redheaded woman screamed at Chad. She grabbed a stapler off the counter and hurled it at him.

  Chad ducked, yelling, “You’re fucking nuts!”

  Tessa recognized the woman from her driver’s license photo as the ex-wife, Cyndi. She and Logan broke into a run. Domestic disputes were some of the most dangerous situations for law enforcement. They could go south—and violent—in a heartbeat.

  “Why, Chad?” Cyndi cried. “Why did you sleep with her? You didn’t humiliate me enough while we were married?” She was a slim woman of about thirty-five. Physically, she was no match for Chad. But her face was red with rage, and a vein in the side of her neck stood out like decorative cording on a cushion. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her nose was red.

  Tessa cranked up the speed. Just twenty more yards.

  “What do you care?” Chad shouted back. “We’re not married anymore. I can sleep with anybody I want.”

  “Because she’s my niece, you asshole!” She grabbed a broom leaning against the counter and swung it at him. “She’s just a kid.”

  “She’s twenty.” Chad blocked the blow, yanked the broom out of her hands, and grabbed his ex around the throat. He slammed her against the side of the booth. “You want to get physical?”

  Fear widened Cyndi’s eyes. “I hate you.”

  Chad’s voice dropped. “I told you to never come here. This is my place of business. You’re embarrassing me.”

  “Like you humiliated me by sleeping with my niece?” Cyndi croaked.

  Tessa sprinted for the pair, but Logan bolted past her. She’d been exercising regularly, but Logan was still military fit. He spent most of his days hiking in the forest.

  Chad spied Logan barreling at him. He released his ex, backing up as Logan stopped in front of Cyndi. He faced Chad. A six-foot-two former army ranger, Logan commanded the situation. Though he was only a few inches taller than Chad, he seemed larger. Chad clearly knew he was no match.

  Chad took another step backward and raised his hands. “I was just defending myself. You saw her swinging at me.”

  Logan said nothing.

  Tessa slid to a stop, breathing hard, and approached the woman. “You’re Chad’s ex?”

  The redhead nodded, rubbing her throat.

  Tessa herded her aside. She wanted Chad and Cyndi out of arm’s reach of each other. “You want to tell me what’s going on here?”

  But Cyndi never took her eyes off Chad. “I told my sister not to let Molly work for him, but Chad can be charming when he wants to be. Now he’s sleeping with her.” Cyndi swiped angry tears from her cheeks. “He’s known her since she was a child. Who does that?”

  “Your niece is twenty?” Tessa asked.

  “Yes. I know she’s legal, but still . . . it’s just wrong.”

  Tessa didn’t disagree, but she couldn’t enforce morality—only the law.

  Rage boiled in Cyndi’s eyes. “Chad was always a cheater. He never hires ugly college girls.” Something flashed across her face. She backed up two steps and reached into her purse.

  Tessa’s instincts screamed. Her heart rate spiked, and she reached for her weapon. “Cyndi, let me see your hands!”

  But Cyndi didn’t respond. It was as if she saw no one but Chad. Her attention was still 100 percent focused on her ex-husband. “I loved you.” She whipped a handgun from the purse, aimed it at Chad, and pulled the trigger.

  6

  “Get down!” Logan rushed Chad as the gun went off. The bullet went wide and pinged off a rock fifteen feet away. He tackled Chad and took him to the ground. Logan heard screaming, and in his peripheral vision, he saw people scattering. Adrenaline hit his bloodstream like a freight train, his heart slammed against his ribs, and the echo of his pulse in his ears drowned out the noise around him.

  Scrambling into a crouch, he shoved Chad toward the booth. On hands and knees, they crawled behind the small building. Logan pressed his back to the wood and pulled his sidearm. He drew in a long breath and held it for a few seconds to ward off the tunnel vision that he knew could occur in high-stress situations. Exhaling slowly, he peered around the side. Cyndi held her gun in both hands. Standing between Logan and Cyndi, a female tourist froze. Her eyes were wide open with terror, and a seemingly endless scream erupt
ed from her mouth.

  Logan looked beyond her to Cyndi. He could see her body trembling from twenty-five feet away. By her stance, he could also tell she wasn’t familiar with guns. She didn’t even know how to properly hold the weapon. Logan lowered his weapon. He couldn’t shoot around the screaming tourist.

  Cyndi pointed her gun in the general direction of the booth, closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger again.

  Logan retreated behind the booth, but he heard the bullet strike a boat about ten feet away. Cyndi was barely aiming. She was going to hit some poor bystander like that tourist. He scanned the area. Thankfully, he saw no one else. People seemed to have scattered. He glanced around the booth again and shouted “Get down!” at the tourist.

  Where is Tessa?

  He spotted her picking herself up off the ground about fifteen feet away from Cyndi. She was holding her mic and talking into it, no doubt requesting backup from Bruce. Seeing Tessa out of the line of fire, Logan breathed easier—until another bullet pinged into the ground about eight feet from him. The shots were getting closer.

  Logan lunged to his feet. Crouching, he ran at the tourist. After grabbing the woman around the waist, he pulled her behind the booth. “Stay down.” But she clung to him as if he were a life preserver. Her entire body vibrated with terror.

  Tessa shouted at Cyndi, “Drop the weapon! Now!”

  Tessa wouldn’t want to shoot the woman, but she would do it to protect innocent people at the dock.

  Cyndi’s hands shook, and it didn’t appear as if she’d registered Tessa’s words. Cyndi screamed, “Now, I hate you!” in Chad’s direction.

  “I told you she was fucking crazy.” Chad cringed, covering his head with his hands.

  “Shut up,” Logan said without taking his eyes off the shooter. The tourist had stopped screaming and begun sobbing.

  “Cyndi!” Tessa yelled. “Drop the gun! Do it now! Or I will shoot you.”

  That got Cyndi’s attention. She blinked, as if just realizing what was happening. Her gaze shifted from the booth to Tessa. Logan tensed. For one breath, he thought she might swing the weapon around. But instead, she burst into sobs, her shoulders heaving. She lowered the gun, her body shook harder, and the weapon clattered to the pavement.