Cate stepped out of the car and waved at George. He slowly lifted a hand.
The email from Phillip that morning was on repeat in Cate’s head. The female agent he’d sent to interview Kori Causey yesterday had been unable to locate her. Kori’s roommate had said she hadn’t seen her that day, and Kori hadn’t responded to texts or phone calls from the FBI agent or her roommate. Phillip wasn’t happy.
Will Ellen and George know how to contact Kori?
If so, will they tell me?
Cate wasn’t so sure.
She approached and noticed George’s eyes were as sad as she remembered and wondered if his eyes had been that way before Jade had vanished. He was a gray-haired man in his late sixties with a gentle stoop to his shoulders and long thin legs. He unfolded himself from the chair and stood.
“Good morning, Mr. Aston.”
“George, please,” he answered, with a somber expression. “Ellen is inside.” He opened the screen door and gestured for Cate to go ahead of him. The morning was already warm, the humidity quite high for the island. Usually the constant breeze kept the humidity manageable, but today there was no wind, and the air was heavy. Cate’s skin was damp.
Inside the door, Cate stepped into a magazine layout of a traditional beach home from the eighties. Heavy wood furniture with a high-gloss lacquer. Glass sea floats in rough netting. Seagull figurines and water bird paintings everywhere. A huge canvas photo of Kori and Jade hung above the redbrick fireplace. Kori’s arms were wrapped around her daughter, joy in her expression, and Jade’s eyes were as light blue as Widow’s Bay on a sunny day.
Cate’s throat tightened, and the evidence envelope suddenly seemed to weigh down her shoulder bag. Phillip had asked her to get the mandible from the county sheriff’s office, which was holding the bone for the FBI lab. He thought the sight of the small ivory jaw would push the Astons to be more forthcoming.
Cate didn’t want to show them. It felt manipulative. A photo of the bone would suffice. But after Kori’s vanishing act yesterday, Phillip wanted answers from the grandparents.
If George or Ellen delivered it to me, they’ve already seen it.
Cate didn’t know what to expect.
What if one grandparent did it without the other’s knowledge?
She glanced back at George, who was straightening a throw on an easy chair. The man was very quiet, but from what she remembered, that was his nature. It wasn’t an indicator of deception to keep to oneself when that was one’s normal behavior.
Ellen appeared, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. The wide kind smile that Cate remembered was unchanged. Her hair was a pale silvery blonde, worn short and curly. She wore walking shorts and a T-shirt that read Salt Hair, Don’t Care.
Living on Widow’s Island wasn’t like living on a Hawaiian island or in the Florida Keys, but issues with the salt air were the same on islands worldwide: it affected everything.
“Special Agent Wilde. So good to see you.” Ellen held out her hand.
“Just Cate, please. I’m not with the FBI anymore,” Cate said, shaking the woman’s hand.
“I know. But you earned that title, so I’m going to use it. You were a great comfort to us and Kori when Jade disappeared. I know how hard you worked to bring that baby home.”
“I did,” Cate said softly, the sting of the unfinished case suddenly raw and fresh. Her shoulder bag grew even heavier. She looked at George, whose gaze was on his wife. He glanced at Cate and quickly looked away. He had yet to hold eye contact with her for more than a split second.
Cate didn’t like it.
Please don’t be involved in this.
“Come sit,” Ellen said, leading Cate to a charming nook with large windows. “I’ve got fresh cinnamon rolls from—oh! From your place!” Ellen’s laugh was a lovely soft sound. “I saw you in the bakery for the first time just last week, but I didn’t want to interrupt. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about seeing someone from a case during a nonwork encounter, and I didn’t want to ask why you were here instead of with the FBI. I assumed that was personal.”