She began to pack up her stuff and call it a day. She was about to shut down the program she was using when she recognized an entry in the database that stood out. “Holy crap. How’d I miss that?”
She plopped her butt back down in the chair and cataloged the anomaly, noting its significance in the larger picture and how it pertained to Lindsey and Dave. She quickly re-sent the email with the update before dashing out the door to meet up with Josh upstairs.
Inside the elevator, she punched in the top floor penthouse. She already knew Josh’s entire programming team had been busy with a new game release they’d been working on for most of the summer. It was a huge deal to the gaming community. Skye didn’t quite understand the concept. Sitting around all day and playing video games was foreign to her. She was more of a doer.
She darted into Josh’s office only to see him in a meeting surrounded by nerds. There was no other way to describe the hardcore programming team.
Todd Graham might have been diagnosed with Asperger syndrome—social interaction wasn’t his thing—but he was still second-in-command and to her just another geek who’d been writing code since middle school.
Reggie Bechtol, who’d graduated Cal Poly at twenty, could’ve had his pick of any high-tech job in Silicon Valley. But Reggie had taken a different path, shunning the traditional aspect of nine-to-five programming for a less pressure-packed pursuit. He wanted fun in the workplace and creating games offered that rhythm and feel. Approaching thirty now, he and Judy Howe had settled into coupledom. Despite the difference in their ages—Judy was at least a decade older—it was cute to watch the two of them form a relationship and deepen their bond.
Winston Reeker still looked like a kid no matter what he did to change his appearance. He’d recently taken to wearing contact lenses to spin his magic on the ladies. Whether or not that was working remained elusive. But he didn’t complain quite as much as he had in his younger years about dating. Skye took that as a sign that the boy had become a man.
Leo Martin was literally the Einstein of the group. With a head full of dreadlocks down to his shoulders, he could’ve easily passed for a Seahawks football player, but nothing could’ve been further from his personality. Not only was Leo a gentle giant, he was also a genius with code. He could read ten thousand words per minute and still discuss content in-depth. He could study a full-on database for five minutes and pick up a pattern in a heartbeat. Plus, he harbored a genuine affection for quantum physics and anything that pertained to atoms and sub-particles. What that had to do with creating a video game was still a mystery to Skye.
The newest member of Josh’s team was Brayden Lachlann, another straggler and survivor they’d picked up along the way like Judy. Brayden hadn’t even reached his eighteenth birthday yet. But he was always the first to volunteer and the first one to contribute a different angle to a case.
Skye adored him.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she finally said, out of breath from scurrying from one floor to the next. “But I need to know if you’re staying late tonight or should I go ahead and pick up Sierra from your mom and dad. I could always swing by here afterward and check if you’re ready to go home by then. I was hoping to catch the five-forty-five ferry. If that’s not possible…”
“I think these guys are perfectly capable of finishing up without me,” Josh said, beginning to shut down the various windows he had open on his laptop. “If you can wait ten minutes, I’ll head out with you. I could always call ahead and have my dad meet us at the ferry with Sierra and Atka. That might shave off twenty minutes from the commute.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
Leo stood up to leave. “By the way, I got your email about the missing UDub juniors. I went over the data you sent, especially the last update.”
“That was five minutes ago,” Skye stated. “I’m not sure why the Dolan couple jumped out at me, other than the circumstances of their disappearance. Even though they’re listed as Vancouver natives, they do have family in the Seattle area. It might be nothing.”
“On the contrary. The thing is, that might be the one case that’s part of the larger pattern.”
“What are you talking about?” Winston chided, picking up his laptop and heading for the door. “The couple who disappeared in Oregon doesn’t fit the same age group at all as Lindsey and Dave. Not only were the Dolans middle-aged, but that case also involved disappearing off a sailboat and not from an abandoned vehicle. Margie and Paul Dolan could’ve fallen off their boat in a storm. I don’t see the connection.”
Reggie sidled up to Winston. “That’s why we use the term anomaly, Win. But I’m with Leo on this. The age group is not the issue. The fact that Margie and Paul loved that sailboat and wouldn’t have dumped it near Cannon Beach speaks volumes. The weekend the Dolans went missing, there were no storms off the coast of Oregon. Not even a strong gale. I checked.”
Josh shook his head. “Guys, could we focus on getting out Desolation Zone tomorrow on schedule first before we take on another project? After that, we’ll get together to go over the anomaly and any other pattern. Unfortunately, the Dolans have been missing damned near five years, Lindsey and Dave even longer.”
His silver eyes sparkled when he looked at his wife and smiled. “I read the Dolan update, too. But let’s get this major release behind us before we start disagreeing and bantering around ideas on the two cases. After that, we’ll give it our all to find answers.”
Skye patted Leo’s arm. “He’s right. I didn’t mean to break anyone’s concentration. Take care of business first and then plan on coming to the house this weekend for dinner Saturday night.”
“I could use a homemade meal,” Brayden announced, getting to his feet. “But just so we’re all on the same page, the Dolans had one thing in common with the younger couple.”
Surprised at how intuitive Brayden could sometimes be, Skye tilted her head to stare at the teenager. “And what would that be?”
“The Dolans had moored their sailboat off Griffiths-Priday State Park slash Copalis Beach the day before on their way down to Coos Bay. Plus, they also owned a Jeep Cherokee, a 2005 that went missing with them. It hasn’t been seen since.”
“All that was in the file I attached?” Skye inquired with a frown.
Brayden’s lips curved. “I went over the initial police report and read the information from their son’s statement. Apparently, his mom called him and kept him up to date on their progress that weekend, which happened to be the first pretty day of spring. As it turned out, the son had already made plans with his friends. Otherwise, he would’ve been on the water with them that weekend. If you factor in that the son was also a graduate of UDub, you actually have, not one, but three common denominators with the Mathison/Collins case.”
“Amazing,” Skye said, trading looks with Josh. “You might have to give this crew a raise. They’re that awesome.”
Two
After retrieving their precocious and lively three-year-old along with the pooch, then dealing with rush-hour traffic to get to the ferry, it was almost six-forty-five by the time they docked on Bainbridge Island.
They usually entertained Sierra in the minivan with a stack of videos they kept on hand for the long commutes, videos like Frozen, Tangled, and Brave, were her favorites. Tonight though, the little girl seemed restless and ready to get out of the car.
Sierra wasn’t the only person who was fidgety. Skye was ready for a quiet evening at home, getting dinner on the table without a lot of drama, and having the opportunity to sit down and unwind. Which maybe was the reason she felt like the five-minute trip to the farmhouse they called home was taking forever to get there. She was ready to negotiate the rest of the evening like a powerhouse lawyer. “I’ll throw something together for supper—maybe that chicken spaghetti thing you guys like—and do the dishes if you’ll get Sierra ready for bed.”
Just as tired and ready to get home, Josh countered, “How about we stop and get Thai to go, we bot
h do cleanup and then do the bath thing together?”
She let out a frustrated sigh. “As I recall, I used to be much better at arbitration than this, but motherhood has robbed me of my sharper skills. How is it one tiny girl wears us down so much?”
“Maybe it’s not the tiny girl,” Josh proffered, feeling the air prick with allegation.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, Skye. You’re doing what you always do. You had an interesting conversation with two mothers today that tugged at your heartstrings. You’re gearing up for a tough case, then feel guilty about taking time away from Sierra before it ever fully ramps up. It’s your way of dealing with that part of your life that’s changed forever, no going back. Skye Cree, crimefighter and now mom.”
The accusation hit a little too close to home. Her back went up. “Don’t you ever get tired of being right all the time?”
“Not really. But I’m pulling into the Thai place now, letting someone else fix the food. Last chance to change your mind.”
“Thai it is. I’m too tired to argue. Or maybe it’s that I’m fed up with looking across a conference table and seeing a mother cry at the memory of her daughter at three years old. Those twenty-year-old kids would be thirty years old by now. Sue me if missing people get to me. It’s depressing.”
When he pulled to a stop in the restaurant parking lot, he turned in his seat. “You always say that. Want spring rolls?”
“Sure. But get the combo, it comes with their infamous crispy rolls. I’ll fix Sierra mac and cheese.”
“No need. When my dad met us at the ferry tonight, he brought along the cheesy noodles my mom fixed her for supper.”
She took his chin. For the first time all day she saw how truly tired he looked. His usual sharp silver eyes were dull and bloodshot. “You need a good night’s sleep. You’ve been at this for so many weeks, this new release is taking its toll on you.”
“Yeah. That’s why I don’t feel much like making dinner or doing anything other than propping up my feet. I also worked through lunch, so I’m starving.”
“Poor baby. We’ll crash after dinner. I promise. Maybe we won’t even bother giving Sierra her bath. After all, how dirty could she get running around at your mother’s house? Phyllis is like a cleaning machine.”
“Don’t start on my mother,” he warned with a press of his lips to hers.
Skye held up her hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of maligning Phyllis. She fixed Sierra dinner. She’s my idea of the ultimate grandmother. I can’t decide if she’s more like Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart with a little bit of saucy Betty White thrown in for good measure. She’s perfect just the way she is.”
“No need to go overboard either,” Josh muttered as he got out to place their order.
Left in the van with Sierra, Skye pivoted in the front seat to check on her daughter. Sierra had been entertaining herself with the movie, but now, the tiny girl, a miniature version of herself, looked panic-stricken.
“What’s wrong?” Skye said, going on alert.
“Mama, Kiya says that woman over there wants us to help find her.”
Skye cut her eyes to the corner of the parking lot expecting to see Kiya, the wolf, the spirit guide shared by the three of them.
Instead of the silver wolf, Skye saw an empty, darkened part of the lot. No wolf and no woman. This had happened before with Sierra. It was the one reason she didn’t always get dropped off at daycare. The three-year-old sometimes “saw things” and it upset the people around her. Over time, they’d discovered that Sierra possessed the same keen sense of foresight that she and Josh did. And in rare cases, Sierra’s ability overshadowed theirs.
Under any other circumstance, Kiya’s presence had always provided a comforting assurance, a calming effect. To the Nez Perce, their spirit guide became all-important at an early age. It could boost energy when needed. It could become a driving force of insight and light. Skye knew from firsthand experience that Kiya had given her the inner strength to survive, not once, but many times over the years. Was she ready to pass that torch on to her three-year-old daughter?
Because lately, Sierra was the only one who could see Kiya, the only one who experienced the wolf’s guiding spirit. It was apparent tonight might be one of those times. “What does this woman look like?” Skye asked.
“The picture in your bag.”
“What? What picture?”
“The woman who went missing. She wants us to help find her.”
Skye patted the girl’s knee. “That’s what we do, honey. We find people.” She dug into the bag she now carried everywhere—one that she’d once vowed never to own—only to pull out the photo that Wanetta had provided of Lindsey. “Is this the woman, baby?”
Sierra shook her head. “No. The other one.”
Skye’s forehead knitted into a deeper frown as she pulled out the file folder with a picture of Margie Dolan. “What about this one?”
“That’s the lady who wants us to find her.”
“Are you sure?”
“Uh-huh. That’s the one who likes to sail on her boat. Can we go on a boat?”
“We just got off the ferry,” Skye pointed out. “That’s a really huge boat.”
Josh slid the side door back on the van and set the bags of food on the floorboard where they couldn’t tip over. “Everybody all set?”
“Yep.” Skye relayed Sierra’s weird vision to Josh. “I’m not sure what it means.”
“Sounds like Margie’s case just might be tied to Lindsey’s after all.”
When he turned into the driveway at the farmhouse, Skye spotted a familiar SUV parked at the curb and let out a loud guttural noise. “Please don’t tell me that’s Harry waiting for us. That’s never a good sign.”
Harry Drummond was the retired homicide detective who, in certain situations, would bring Skye and Josh into special, high-profile cases in a consultation capacity to get a different point of view.
“Not tonight,” Josh muttered as he hit the button on the garage door opener.
“I’ll take care of this,” Skye promised.
“Be gentle. You know he’s still reeling.”
“I know that. It’s only been six months since he lost Elizabeth. I promise I’ll take that into consideration.” She opened the passenger door and jumped out, headed down the driveway to Harry’s vehicle. Approaching the driver’s side of the black SUV, Skye recognized the man’s beat-up, weathered bucket hat, khaki in color, that he wore when he went fishing.
“You going fishing, Harry?” Skye asked.
“As a matter of fact…”
“Don’t lie. You aren’t a ten-year-old in trouble for skipping school. You haven’t been fishing in six months,” Skye pointed out. “Look, I don’t know why you’re here, but it’s not a good time for us. Josh is wiped out. He’s been working night and day on a new product for months now and he’s about to release it tomorrow. So whatever case you want us to look at, the answer has to be no. Bring it by the office tomorrow.”
“Just hear me out,” Harry began. “This can’t wait.”
Adamant, Skye shook her head. “That’s the way it always starts, Harry. We haven’t even had dinner yet. Go away. It’s been a long day.”
But her defiance wasn’t enough to deter the seasoned, never-give-up, homicide detective.
When he crawled out of the SUV to follow Skye up to the house, she threw up her hands. “You aren’t listening to me, Harry.”
“I just need five minutes of your time.”
“Now you sound like a telemarketer.”
“All I need is ten minutes. I need your help with something that’s really important to me. It won’t take that long. I promise. Go ahead and sit down to dinner. I’ll wait in the living room. You won’t even know I’m here during the meal.”
Josh opened the front door with Sierra bundled in his arms and the dog eyeing Harry. “Look at that, Sierra, your Uncle Harry’s come calling. You might as w
ell come on in, Harry. I know you like Thai food. We have plenty.”
Skye lasered her eyes on her husband. “Don’t say I didn’t try.”
She marched past both men and took Sierra out of Josh’s arms. “Let’s heat up what Mimi made you for dinner. You must be starving by now.”
“Food’s getting cold, Harry. In or out,” Josh stated as he followed his wife through the house and into the kitchen.
Atka trotted after him, leaving Harry to close the front door.
In the kitchen, Skye slipped Sierra into her booster seat and got down plates. When she glanced up and saw Harry, she let out a low groan. “The least you can do is wait until we eat before you give us your song and dance routine.”
“Want me to take my plate in the other room?” Harry groused.
“Take a seat, Harry,” Skye ordered as a peace offering. “You’re always welcome at my table. You know that. I just wish that once in a while, just once, you’d come for a visit, a real one, instead of always bringing a problem case to our front door.”
“I don’t do that. Do I?”
While he set out the food, Josh cut his eyes to the former cop. “You do that in spades.”
“Spades,” Sierra echoed.
“The last time we invited you over here it was Labor Day weekend. As I recall, you had better things to do,” Josh reminded him. “You blew us off and never even returned the call.”
“Well, I probably went fishing,” Harry said, the lie hanging on his lips.
They gathered at the table, the meal centering around small talk. The weather came up. Would it be wetter this winter or drier? They talked about road construction and its effect on local traffic, and how bad it had gotten over the summer. No one broached the subject of Elizabeth again.
After the last bite of food was eaten, Skye got up to clear the table, but she noticed Harry’s face still had that same grim look to it.
Having seen that troubled scowl many times over the years, she knew something heavy weighed on his mind.
“I’ll get Sierra tucked in and be back down in a jiff. You guys go ahead and get started,” she offered, leaving Harry and Josh sitting at the kitchen table.
Sea of Bones Page 3