Ellen frowned. “No. Why do you ask?”
“They’ve been unable to contact her since that initial phone call. They stopped at her home yesterday, and she’s not returning texts or calls.”
“Of course not. You know she’ll only talk to you.”
Cate fought to keep exasperation out of her voice. “But I don’t work for the FBI anymore. She needs to cooperate with whoever contacts her. I can’t help anymore.”
“Yet here you are,” Ellen said with a wide smile.
“Only because you live in close proximity. This visit is a single exception.” She glanced at George. “It doesn’t seem odd to you that she ignored their attempts to reach her? Would she answer a call or text from you now?”
“She should be at work,” said Ellen. “But I’ll text her.”
Ellen stretched to grab a pair of reading glasses from the kitchen counter and pulled a cell phone out of her pocket.
Cate turned her attention back to George. “I’ve been here ten minutes, and no one has asked what prompted the FBI’s new interest in Kori’s case.”
“I figured you’d tell us when you’re ready,” said the quiet man. “Not one to pry.”
“You don’t pry when it comes to your granddaughter’s kidnapping?”
“You’ve always kept us informed of what we need to know.”
He won’t let me push his buttons. Or at least he won’t show it if I do.
“I assume you got a report of a sighting of Rich,” said Ellen, setting her cell phone on the table. “That’s what it usually is.” She seemed as content as George to wait for Cate to bring up the new evidence.
My interviewing skills are rusty. I can’t prod anything out of them.
Maybe there’s nothing to come out.
The mandible in her bag was impossible for Cate to ignore. As if it had a flashing light that only she could see.
“Yesterday someone dropped off a package for me at Shiny Objects. It had my name and the bakery address on it but somehow ended up at the wrong place.”
Polite interest showed on their faces. Nothing else.
“We also have problems with the mail sometimes,” Ellen added.
Cate leaned forward, her forearms on the table. “Inside the box was one of the old newspaper articles about Jade’s disappearance. Handwritten on the margin was a message that implied that Jade didn’t survive, and this person was scared that Rich would do the same to her baby. Then it asked for help.”
Both the Astons were silent, mild confusion in their eyes.
“I don’t know what to think of that,” said Ellen. “You used the word ‘implied’ . . . it didn’t say this person knew for certain that Jade didn’t . . . survive?” Her voice cracked on the last word. “Maybe they’re making an assumption. A lot of people believe she’s . . . gone.”
Cate was at a loss about how to bring up the mandible. She’d mentally rehearsed a dozen different ways, exploring various outcomes, and now she had no recollection of what she’d decided was best.
There was no good way to show a child’s bone to grieving grandparents.
There’s a chance it’s not Jade’s.
The FBI still needed to compare the mandible to the records they had from Jade’s past dental work. But in her heart, Cate knew it was Jade’s.
That’s not a good enough reason to show it to these grieving grandparents.
She’d brought it to see if they’d reveal they were the ones who had dropped it off. Or admit anything else. But Cate’s gut was telling her they weren’t involved.