“Nothing has changed in twenty years here, has it?”
“Not at all.” Tessa raised a hand in greeting at Jane and nodded as Jane pointed at the big jug of iced coffee behind the counter.
Cate’s phone vibrated in her back pocket. She pulled it out and was surprised to see the Shiny Objects store listed on the screen.
“This is Cate,” she answered.
“Cate, it’s Marsha. Are you busy?”
“We have a lull at the moment. Do you need something?”
“I want to talk to you about that messed-up delivery.” She paused. “Samantha told me what was in that box and how it was tied to an old case of yours. Can you stop by for a few minutes?”
“Absolutely.”
Yesterday the mandible had been picked up by a special courier for delivery to the FBI’s lab on the mainland, and Cate had spent the afternoon typing up interview notes and pondering her next steps to assist in the investigation. The discussion with Kori and the Astons hadn’t revealed any new information to pass along to the FBI, so after the emotional afternoon, she’d decided to step back for a day or two and let the family mourn before talking to them again. Even though Jade had been gone for years, the mandible had ripped open old wounds. Both Cate and the family had no doubt the lab would confirm it was Jade’s. There had been an air of finality in the Aston home yesterday. An era of waiting and wondering had finally come to an end.
“Want to go to Shiny Objects for a few minutes?” she asked Tessa. “Marsha has something to tell me about that box that accidentally went to her store.”
“She remembered something?” asked Tessa as she took a sip of her iced coffee.
“I don’t know. But something prodded her to call me. You and I both know that people often think of things later.”
The two women stepped out into the midmorning sun and walked down the street to the little shop. They nodded at locals and stepped out of the way as children darted by.
It’s a good life.
“Sleep okay?” Tessa asked.
“You know I sleep like crap on the nights we drink wine late at night.”
“We can skip it next time.”
“Not on your life.” Cate grinned at Tessa. “I know we’re horrible stereotypes, but there’s something about girl talk combined with a little ice cream or alcohol that makes me really happy.”
“A bottle is barely more than one glass for each of us.”
“I think it’s the ritual of it more than anything.”
“Agreed,” said Tessa. “And the fact that we missed out on over a decade of girl talk.”
“Exactly. We’re making up for lost time.”
“You know the three of us will be part of the next crop of older women running the island. We’ll have to learn to knit.” Tessa referred to the Widow’s Island Knitting and Activist group. Jane was currently its leader, and the women in the circle were more instrumental in the government of the island than the mayor and council.
“I don’t think many of them actually knit.” Cate stopped to touch a beautiful wind chime hanging outside Shiny Objects. The metal structure spun and glittered and made soft sounds that were agreeable to Cate’s ears. “Nice,” she said, seriously considering a purchase. “And I don’t think it will offend any neighbors.” She glanced at the tag and choked at the $200 price.
Some tourist would buy it.
Shiny Objects featured local jewelry, paintings, sculptures, blankets, scarves, and other works of art. Each display had a small card that introduced the artist and described how they worked. Marsha had a good eye. Many of the pieces she took on struck strong chords in Cate like the wind chime just had. But not a $200 chord.