Whisper of Bones

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Whisper of Bones Page 2

by Leigh, Melinda


  Tessa lifted her chin. “We’re going to find out what happened to her.”

  The mystery around Sam’s disappearance might have been decades old, but Tessa was just as determined to unravel it as she was to find Jason McCoy’s killer.

  2

  Later that afternoon, Logan stared through the passenger window of Tessa’s county-issued SUV.

  “The body should be at the medical examiner’s office by now,” Tessa said.

  The sheriff’s boat had transferred the body to Widow’s Island. Then the funeral home’s hearse handled transport to the medical examiner’s office on the mainland.

  Tessa parked in front of Sarah McCoy’s mother’s little white house on the outskirts of the town of North Sound. The cottage faded from Logan’s vision. The corpse on the beach had brought back his time in Afghanistan. In his mind, all he could see were countless bloody bodies.

  Including the child.

  When he’d left the military a few months before, all he’d wanted was to come home to Widow’s Island and find peace—to forget the horrors he’d witnessed in the Middle East. But it seemed violence had followed him. There was no escape from the ugliness of the world, not even in the pristine wilderness of the state parks where he worked. If anything, his nightmares were worsening.

  He blinked the memories away and glanced at Tessa in the driver’s seat, and a sense of calm settled over him.

  Maybe he was wrong. Maybe peace wasn’t found in a place. Maybe it was a person.

  Maybe it’s Tessa.

  She was his sister’s best friend. He’d known her his whole life, but he felt as if he hadn’t truly seen her until a few weeks ago.

  She turned off the engine and reached for her vehicle door handle, her mouth set in a grim line that cracked his heart. Logan reached for her hand. Capturing it, he then gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

  The corners of her mouth turned up in a sad smile. “Death notifications are rough, especially in a suspicious death, where the person you’re notifying could also be the killer.”

  “The cliché is true? The spouse is always the number one suspect?”

  “Unfortunately.” She returned the squeeze of his fingers. “Thanks for coming with me.”

  “You’re welcome. The body washed up in my jurisdiction. I feel like it’s my responsibility.” He also liked working with her. Watching her investigate a crime reminded Logan how smart and strong she was.

  “Still.” Her eyes softened as they met his. “Thank you.”

  Logan released her hand. The relationship developing between them had surprised him at first. But when he thought about it, their connection made sense in every possible way. Neither of them had had an easy life. His father had died when he was small, and his mother had eventually left Widow’s Island, leaving Logan and Cate to be raised by their grandmother. Thankfully, that grandmother was Jane Sutton. He couldn’t have asked for a better guardian, but Logan had still felt abandoned.

  Sam’s disappearance and her mother’s illness had forced Tessa to mature at a young age too. A three-time widow, Tessa’s mother had been unstable long before she’d been diagnosed with dementia. Tessa had been raised with daily doses of harsh reality like other kids had been fed chewable vitamins. Her feet were planted firmly on the ground. He doubted she’d ever dreamed of moonlight and roses. They had so much in common. He could talk to her.

  Tessa took a deep breath and opened her vehicle door. “Let’s go. I’m hoping Sarah hasn’t heard about her husband’s death through the grapevine yet.”

  “Miracles happen.” Logan got out of the SUV and joined her on the driveway.

  They walked to the door and knocked. A blonde woman in her late fifties opened the door. If she was trying to hide her age, she was doing the direct opposite. Heavy makeup caked in her crow’s-feet, and her bright-red lipstick highlighted the wrinkles that surrounded her mouth. She wore slim black pants, a sweater, and heels. Gold jewelry flashed on her fingers and wrists. Her eyes widened as she took in Tessa’s uniform. Then her gaze found Logan and raked over him like long fingernails. “Well, hello there.”

  Logan nodded. “Ma’am.”

  Tessa introduced herself and Logan. “Are you Mrs. McCoy?”

  “No. I’m Tammi King.” Ms. King’s gaze shifted back to Tessa. “Sarah McCoy is my daughter. I’ll get her. Come on in.” She left the door open and turned away. “Sarah?” Her voice rose. “A deputy is here to see you.”

  The house smelled of stale cigarette smoke. Unzipping his jacket, Logan followed Tessa into the small living room. The decor was circa 1990, heavy on the pickled oak furniture. Ms. King motioned toward a dark-pink sofa and overstuffed chair arranged in an L formation.

  A woman in her early thirties entered the room. Like her mother, she was blonde and wore plenty of makeup and jewelry. “Can I help you?”

  “Sarah McCoy?” Tessa asked.

  At Sarah’s nod, Tessa moved toward the couch. “Why don’t we sit down?”

  But Sarah didn’t move. Her gaze flickered between Tessa and Logan. “What’s wrong?”

  She was either an excellent actress, or she hadn’t heard about her husband’s death.

  Tessa didn’t drag it out. “Your husband is dead. I’m sorry for your loss.” Her voice was soft and full of sympathy, but her eyes were fixed intently on Sarah’s face as she waited for her reaction.

  Sarah recoiled. “What?”

  “Holy shit.” Ms. King’s mouth dropped open.

  “Jason’s body was found on the beach of Camilla’s Island this morning,” Tessa explained.

  Sarah stood still. Her body seemed to be paralyzed, her gaze locked on Tessa. “That doesn’t make any sense. What would he be doing on Camilla’s Island? He fishes, but other than that, he hates nature.”

  Logan noticed that she spoke of her husband in the present tense.

  “We don’t know what happened yet,” Tessa said. “It’s possible he died elsewhere, and his body simply washed up on the beach.”

  “Oh, my god.” Sarah reached for the back of a chair. Her legs wobbled.

  Logan moved forward, caught her by the arm, and steered her toward the sofa. She collapsed onto it as if her knees had given out. The blood had drained from her face, leaving her makeup bright and garish on her pale skin. Logan sat next to her.

  Tessa sat in the chair, angling her body to face Sarah. “I need to ask you some questions.”

  Sarah nodded.

  Ms. King lit a cigarette, dragged deeply, and blew a plume of smoke toward the ceiling. “He was a jerk, but I never thought anyone would actually kill him.”

  “Mom!” Sarah’s voice was tight.

  Ms. King shrugged. “It’s no secret that you left him. You’re here, not there.”

  “Please stop.” Sarah’s mouth flattened. A tear rolled from her eye and slid down her cheek.

  “Ms. King, we really need to question Sarah in private,” Tessa said in a firm voice.

  “Sure. I have to go to the store anyway.” Ms. King turned and left the room with reluctant steps, leaving a trail of smoke in her wake.

  “Thank you.” Sarah pressed a hand to her forehead. “I know she only wants the best for me, but sometimes she can be a little too . . . direct.”

  Tessa took a small notepad and a pen from the pocket of her uniform jacket. “When was the last time you saw Jason?”

  Sarah reached for a tissue from a box on the end table at her elbow. “I don’t know. A week ago?”

  “What was the nature of your meeting?” Tessa asked.

  “Accidental.” Sarah’s lips pursed, as if the memory was unpleasant. “I ran into him in the grocery store.”

  Tessa clicked open her pen. “How long have you been separated?”

  “Three weeks.” Sarah blotted her eye with a tissue. “When I first left, I imagined him chasing after me, begging for me to come home.” Bitterness glittered in her teary eyes. “He didn’t.”

  “Why did you leave him?” Tessa asked.


  Sarah looked away. “He was never home. All he did was work. For the past few months, he’s been short tempered and snapping at me for the smallest things.”

  “Jason wasn’t always like that?” Tessa lifted her pen.

  “No.” Sarah shook her head. “When we first got together, he was so sweet. He’d bring me flowers and buy me jewelry. But lately, he’s been a bear to live with.”

  “Do you know why he was upset?” Tessa asked.

  Sarah shrugged. “He was worried about the business.”

  Tessa made a note. “In what way?”

  Sarah’s body stiffened. “Work was drying up on the island.”

  “Was there a specific incident that made you decide to leave?”

  Sarah blinked, her frown deepening. “Winter was getting to me. I wanted to fly down to Palm Springs for a few weeks. Jason said no. He wouldn’t even give me a reason. He just told me I was a spoiled, ungrateful bitch.” She crumpled her tissue in her lap. “I mean, he’s always had a temper, but usually when he yells at me, he makes it up to me later.” One hand rose to finger a gold pendant in the shape of a feather. “This time, he didn’t seem to care.”

  A few seconds of silence passed as Sarah’s gaze turned inward.

  Logan turned to face Sarah more directly. “How often did Jason go fishing?”

  Tessa had checked registration records. Jason owned a thirty-foot fishing boat.

  “He hasn’t had much time lately,” Sarah said. “Which made him more irritable.”

  “Where does he keep his boat?” Logan asked.

  “At home.” Sarah sniffed and nodded. “He picked the house because of the dock.”

  “Did he fish in the winter?” Logan prodded.

  “Yes,” she said. “He likes it better without all the tourists.”

  “Can you drive the boat?”

  She met his gaze for a second, then answered with a reluctant “Yes.”

  Does she know Jason’s body was dumped at sea?

  Tessa leaned forward. “Did Jason have a will?”

  Sarah wiped her nose.

  “Who benefits from his death?” Tessa asked.

  Sarah stared at the wall opposite her. “I inherit the assets acquired during our marriage, basically the house and the money in our joint accounts. The assets Jason accumulated before our marriage get divided equally between me and his kids.”

  Tessa’s brows knitted. “Did you have a prenup?”

  Sarah looked away. Logan could see the wheels turning in her mind as she weighed her answer. Finally, she said, “Yes.”

  “What were the terms of the prenup if you divorced?” Tessa pressed.

  Sarah shredded her crumpled tissue. Anger hardened her features and aged her a few years. Was she mad because Jason had made her sign a prenup or because Tessa was asking about it?

  A few heartbeats passed before Sarah said, “Jason and I would have split our marital assets.”

  “So Jason’s additional assets were protected in the event of a divorce,” Tessa said.

  “Yes.” Sarah tensed.

  Logan jumped in. “Do you know what that portion of Jason’s estate is worth?”

  “No.” Sarah shook her head. Her eyes shifted to the ripped tissue in her hands. “I don’t have access to those accounts. They’re in Jason’s name.”

  There was something in her eyes that made Logan do a double take.

  Calculation.

  Sarah blinked it away and rearranged her poker face. Did she know more than she was saying?

  “Who is Jason’s lawyer?” Tessa asked.

  Sarah gave her the name and number of an attorney in Seattle.

  Tessa wrote it down. “Do you know of anyone who was angry with Jason or would benefit from his death?”

  Sarah examined her thumbnail. “His ex-wife. She was bitter about their divorce. When we were first married, she would leave nasty messages on our voice mail.”

  “How long did this go on?” Tessa asked.

  “A few months. Jason had his lawyer send her a letter, and she stopped.” Sarah lifted her chin. “But she still hates Jason.”

  Gee. I wonder why, thought Logan.

  Tessa tilted her head. “How do you know?”

  “You can’t completely avoid someone in this town. We’d run into her now and then.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “I could tell from the way she stared at him that she still held a grudge.”

  “How did Jason respond?” Logan asked.

  “He didn’t.” Sarah lifted her chin. “He was over it. He’d moved on with his life, but she clearly hadn’t. She’s the one you should question.” Her tone sounded final.

  Logan wondered why wife number one hadn’t killed him years ago.

  “I have one more question,” Tessa said. “Can you account for your whereabouts between one thirty Monday afternoon and four o’clock Tuesday morning?”

  Sarah nodded. “I was here, with my mother.”

  “All day?” Tessa clarified.

  “Yes.” Sarah swiped a finger under her eye. “I was having a hard day. We binge-watched The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. We watched the whole first season. Then I went to bed.”

  “What time was that?” Tessa asked.

  “I don’t remember exactly,” Sarah said. “Sometime around ten, I think.”

  “Thank you for your time.” Tessa stood. “We’ll probably need to talk with you again.”

  “OK,” Sarah said.

  “Again, we’re sorry for your loss.” Tessa headed for the door.

  Tessa and Logan walked back to the SUV. Tessa climbed in and started the engine, her gaze on the white house. “What did you think?”

  “I think she isn’t as sad as she’s pretending to be.”

  “I got the same impression,” Tessa said.

  Logan considered the size difference between Jason and Sarah. “Jason was not a small man. Do you think she would be strong enough to move her husband’s dead body?”

  Tessa tapped a finger on the wheel. “I don’t know. Dead weight is tough to maneuver. But she could have had help. We don’t know where he was killed yet. She might not have had to move him far.”

  “True.” Logan fastened his seat belt. “We need to search Jason and Sarah’s home.”

  Tessa checked her phone. “Perfect timing. The search warrant just came in.”

  “You need a warrant to go into a victim’s house?” Logan had thought a corpse’s residence would be fair game for the police.

  “Legally, the house is also Sarah’s residence. If I find evidence that implicates her, I don’t want to worry about any potential inadmissibility. Besides, the warrant also gives us access to the McCoys’ phone and financial records. I want to know how much money Jason had.”

  “Money is a great motivation for murder,” Logan agreed.

  “Especially if you’re an unhappy wife who won’t get an extra dime if you divorce your husband.” Tessa pulled away from the curb and turned left out of the residential neighborhood.

  Jason and Sarah lived on Widow’s Bay. The landscape rolled by Logan’s window. Twenty minutes later, the vehicle slowed in front of a narrow driveway marked by two boulders. Tessa turned into the driveway and stopped in front of a stone house. A thick black plume of smoke poured from a window on the side of the house.

  “Damn it!” Tessa shoved the gearshift into park and flung open the car door. “The house is on fire.”

  The smell of smoke hit Logan’s nose. Clammy sweat broke out on his palms. He climbed out of the vehicle and stared at the house. Sick dread filled him as he watched the dark cloud swirl into the sky. He beat back the image of another fire half a world away, when a suicide bomber had blown up a vaccination clinic full of women and children. He would be useless if he allowed himself to be sucked into a flashback. Tessa needed him.

  3

  Tessa called in the fire on her radio; then she grabbed the fire extinguisher from the back of her vehicle and ran for the front door. Smoke alar
ms pealed inside the house.

  “What are you doing?” Logan caught up with her on the front porch.

  “Trying to save a potential crime scene.” Tessa could think of only one reason the McCoys’ house was on fire. Someone wanted to destroy evidence.

  She placed a hand on the front door. The steel was cool to the touch. She tried the knob and found it unlocked. Then she stood back and pushed open the door. No fireball rushed at her, and she saw no flames in the foyer. But thick smoke filled the hallway beyond.

  She shouted over the alarm, “Police! Is anyone inside?”

  Logan coughed. “Tessa, you should wait for the fire crew.”

  “By the time they get here, it’ll be too late to save evidence. Whoever set the fire could still be inside. Flag down the fire truck when it gets here.”

  This wasn’t the city, where fire crews were dispatched within minutes. The Widow’s Island fire company was all volunteer. The men had to drive to the station and gear up before they could respond to a fire.

  Shaking his head, Logan took the fire extinguisher from her and tucked it under his arm. “I’m going in with you.”

  His jaw was set, and determination shone in his blue eyes. But the pallor of his face made her hesitate. Though it was cold outside, his forehead gleamed with sweat. She knew he suffered from posttraumatic stress, but he hadn’t been ready to share the details yet.

  “You don’t have to do this,” she said.

  “Neither do you,” Logan shot back.

  Tessa drew her weapon and led the way into the house. Crouching low to avoid the smoke gathering near the ceiling, she followed the black cloud to the kitchen at the rear of the home. The smoke irritated her lungs but wasn’t as thick as she’d expected once she left the confines of the hallway.

  The corridor opened into a large great room. The rear wall was almost entirely glass doors and floor-to-ceiling windows. Tessa turned left into the kitchen area. An island the size of a Ping-Pong table occupied the center of the space. Its white base cabinets smoldered. A few flames danced along the cabinet bottoms. Fresh air blew through a broken window over the farmhouse sink.

  Tessa swept the room for suspects, but it was empty.

  Logan walked around the island, directed the extinguisher, and covered the lower cabinets with a layer of white foam, smothering the fire.

 

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