Close to the Bone (Widow's Island Novella Book 1)

by Kendra Elliot

  “How many people have gone missing from Ruby’s Island?” Dustin snapped. “There’s only one, as far as I’ve heard. Becca.” The young man paled. “Oh, dear Lord. She’s been this close all this time. This is going to kill my uncle—his health isn’t good.”

  “We don’t know—” Cate started.

  “Your uncle is ill?” Henry cut in.

  Dustin blew out a breath. “He hasn’t written a word in two years, and I swear he’s aged two decades since she disappeared.”

  Kurt nodded in agreement. “I rarely see him on Widow’s anymore.”

  “I’ve read most of his books. I hadn’t realized he stopped writing,” Henry admitted. Rex Conan was one of the top ten mystery authors in the world. Henry had lived on the island for four weeks before someone casually mentioned the author. When Henry had asked if she meant the Rex Conan, the islander had looked down her nose at Henry. “He’s been here a decade. Just because he writes some books doesn’t make him different than anyone else.”

  Henry had gotten the message. And he’d learned islanders didn’t talk about their occupations—it was bad manners. A local quirk. His Realtor had told him not to tell people he was the new doctor in town. “But how will they know a doctor is finally here?” he’d asked.

  “Don’t worry. They’ll know,” she’d assured him.

  Sure enough. When his office had opened for business, he’d had a steady flow of patients—without a cent paid for advertising.

  “Would you like me to come with you to tell your uncle?” Henry asked. He preferred to be present if Rex went into cardiac arrest.

  Indecision filled Dustin’s face.

  “I’ll come too,” said Cate, making the decision for the nephew. “I’d like to know more about Becca’s case.”

  “Shouldn’t you already know?” retorted Dustin. “The FBI crawled all through his house two years ago. They interviewed my uncle over and over. They thought he’d done something to her.”

  “It’s standard to rule out family first,” Henry answered before Cate could reply. “With any law enforcement agency.”

  How many times have I seen family members hurt their own flesh and blood?

  Countless.

  “You said you’d lived here six months,” stated Cate. “How do you know what happened during the investigation?”

  Henry admired her cool tone. Fury had risen in his throat as the nephew had lashed out against the FBI.

  “My parents and I flew out immediately when Becca vanished. I’d visited dozens of times before Rex asked me to stay.” Dustin’s voice was calm, but his eyes sparked in anger. “Ruling out family again, are you?”

  “It’s step one,” Cate said simply. She turned to Henry, her expression flat. “How much more time do you need here?”

  “I’m not sure.” He looked at the exposed bones. I can’t mess this up.

  “I know the proper way to remove them and protect the scene,” Tessa said, giving Henry a confident nod. “We have to be our own crime scene team on the islands. Bruce and Kurt will help me.”

  “Okay.” Henry looked at Cate again. “Give me ten more minutes to look things over.”

  “Great.” She pointed at Dustin. “Don’t move. We’re going with you.”

  Henry studied Cate out of the corner of his eye.

  Could this be her missing friend?

  3

  “Don’t be a wimp!”

  “I’m not. I’m being smart. My grandmother will hear me if I try to sneak out of the house,” Cate told Samantha as they both reached for textbooks in their locker. Cate wouldn’t consider Samantha’s invitation. Twice her grandmother had caught her brother, Logan, sneaking out. The last time he’d been grounded for two weeks.

  “What will your grandmother hear?” Tessa asked as she joined them and waited her turn to get a notebook. Usually two people shared a locker at school, but the three of them had kept their things together since kindergarten and weren’t about to stop. They were accustomed to the crowded space.

  “Samantha wants us to meet her at the Widow’s Walk at midnight,” Cate said sourly, wishing she had the freedom Samantha did. The temperatures had turned warm, and the days were long. She couldn’t wait to finish up her freshman year of high school and start a lazy summer.

  “Ha! Forget it,” stated Tessa. “We’d have to bike there. There’s no way I’d ride that winding road in the pitch dark.”

  “But I got some pot!” Samantha whispered in an excited voice.

  Cate whirled to the girl. “Are you crazy? Who’d you get that from?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Samantha waved away Cate’s concern. “I thought the Widow’s Walk would be an awesome place to smoke it with my friends.”

  Her emphasis on the word friends made guilt churn in Cate’s gut. They always did everything together, but Samantha was pushing for a double infraction.

  “No way,” Cate said. “The smell of that stuff sticks to you. Once my grandmother smelled it on Logan’s clothes when she was doing laundry, and he didn’t get to drive for a month.”

  “I can’t wait to be sixteen and drive,” muttered Samantha. “We won’t have to beg for rides, and I’ll drive us everywhere. Eighteen more months.”

  The three girls were silent as they imagined the liberty a driver’s license could bring.

  “Well, I’m going anyway. You two can miss out.”

  “It’s not nearly as far for you to ride your bike,” Tessa pointed out.

  “I have a ride.”

  “With who?” Cate and Tessa squealed.

  Samantha gave a pleased smile. “I can’t tell you. Show up, and then you’ll know.” She turned and strolled away to class, her long red hair swishing across her back.

  Tessa looked at Cate and asked, “She has a boyfriend?”

  “Not that I’d heard.” They shared everything. Why would Samantha keep a secret from us?

  “There’s no way I can sneak out tonight,” admitted Tessa. “We’ll have to make her tell us tomorrow.”

  Cate glanced down the hall as Samantha stopped to talk to two other girls. Is our friendship developing cracks?

  She hoped not. Samantha and Tessa were the sisters she’d never had. “Yeah, she’ll tell us tomorrow.”

  Cate and Tessa never saw her again.

  Cate caught her breath. The memory had surged through her brain as she’d traipsed through the Ruby’s Island woods behind Dustin Conan, nearly making her stumble.

  Are the bones Samantha’s?

  Cate had stood behind Tessa, listening closely as the deputy and Henry had knelt next to the skull, carefully exposing a few more bones and murmuring to each other. Some hair had been present with the bones. The length was about right, but no one could be certain about the color; it matched the dirt. Tessa had pointed out that vermin had been at work. Gnaw marks were apparent on some of the bigger bones, and several finger bones were missing. Most of the clothing had disintegrated except for the coat and tennis shoes.

  Both women had stared at the Nikes. Did Samantha wear that style?

  Neither could remember.

  She and Henry had been reluctant to leave the skeleton before it was removed, but Dustin had been antsy, and Cate knew Rex Conan was the first person she needed to interview.

  The path they followed was like a deer track. Barely visible. If Dustin hadn’t been leading them, Cate would have never found the way. Well, that wasn’t quite true. All she needed to do was head north, and she’d eventually come out on the other side of the tiny island.

  She pushed a wet branch out of her way, careful not to let it slap back on Henry behind her.

  “Thanks,” he said as he put a hand on the branch. “Have you been on this island before?”

  “Of course. Everyone parties on that beach at some point in high school. Or visits the lighthouse, hoping to see the ghost.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ve heard about the ghost.”

  “We play it up for the tourists,” Cate admitted. “A
little island lore to make them curious.”

  Henry laughed, and it lightened her sad heart.

  “What else do you tell tourists?” he asked. “Now I’m wondering how much I’ve been told is true.”

  “Have you heard that Camilla Bishop haunts the old Bishop mansion on Widow’s?”

  “No. I did hear that Camilla’s husband, Elias, and his lover, Ruby, haunt the Widow’s Walk,” he answered.

  “That’s correct, but I haven’t seen those ghosts at the Walk. If they reveal themselves to anyone, it should be me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m a descendant of Ruby and Elias Bishop,” she said simply as she glanced over her shoulder. In the light of his flashlight, she saw his eyebrows rise.

  Yep. A descendant from their affair.

  “You’re related to Elias Bishop?”

  “Yes. So are my grandmother and mother,” she answered in a teasing tone. “He was my great-great-grandfather.”

  “He’s the biggest historical figure around here.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve toured his little museum in the old hotel,” said Henry. “He was quite the entrepreneur. Not everyone decides to build ships for the navy and becomes successful at it.”

  “Most of his fortune went to Camilla after he died. That’s always the next question people ask. ‘How rich are you?’”

  “I bet that is annoying.”

  “Drove me crazy growing up. That and the fact that people can’t get over that he was cheating on Camilla when he died.”

  “Even I’ve heard about that huge scandal in the island’s history,” Henry said. “In the last hundred years, nothing else happened here to compete with the story?”

  “Nope. The fact that Elias left Camilla and had a child with his lover, Ruby, will always take first place. The names of our four islands won’t let anyone forget.”

  “I understand why three of the islands are named for the people in that love triangle, but where does the name Widow’s Island come from?”

  “Originally it was because of Camilla. She remained a widow until she died of old age.” Cate paused and looked at Henry. “You’ve probably noticed we have an unusual number of widows on the island.”

  Henry blinked. “I’ve had many more older single female patients than married ones.”

  Cate bit the inside of her cheek as she nodded solemnly. “Married men have an awfully short life span on Widow’s Island.”

  He stared at her, and she knew he wanted to ask if she was joking.

  “You’ll see that it’s true.” She fought to keep a serious look on her face.

  They hiked in silence for another minute.

  “So how does it feel to be on an island that was named after your ancestor?” he asked.

  Cate was silent, not wanting to sound like a freak. That little electrical pulse in my spine . . . “Can’t say I feel anything. The island was sold out of the family line years ago.”

  “Almost there,” Dustin announced. He glanced back at Cate. “My uncle’s mansion used to belong to your family?”

  “Elias Bishop built a small home for Ruby where the mansion now stands. The home was in ruins when your uncle bought the island.”

  “Yeah, not many people can buy an island,” Dustin said in a flat voice. “But when every book you write hits the New York Times number one slot for thirty years, I guess it’s easy.”

  Well now. There’s a bit of jealousy in the family.

  “There it is,” said Dustin as they emerged from the woods and found themselves at the top of a cliff, looking down at the mansion.

  The sky had grown lighter as they’d hiked north, but it wasn’t time for sunrise. Now she saw that every outdoor light at the mansion was on. It glowed from its hillside perch halfway down to the water.

  “Wow.” Henry stepped beside her. “I’ve seen the home from Widow’s Island across the water, but up close it seems ten times bigger.”

  Cate had to agree. She’d never viewed the home from such a high angle. The mansion was protected from south winds by the steep cliff, and the front of the home faced Widow’s Island. A wood-and-metal staircase zigzagged down the face of the cliff to the home. Dustin headed toward the top of the stairs. As they carefully moved down the steps, Cate stole glances at the home. She couldn’t imagine the years of work it had taken to build. Every square inch had been delivered by boat.

  The home could have been transplanted from a beachfront in New England. It was a gigantic gray craftsman with weathered shingles, a wraparound deck, multiple gables, and an assortment of large bay windows. The rooflines were steep, and she counted three stone chimneys. Huge river rocks covered the foundation. They wouldn’t have come from the island; someone had physically brought each one.

  She couldn’t estimate the staggering cost.

  Farther down at the water’s edge was a covered boat dock and small marina. There was no use for a garage or a car on Ruby’s Island. No doubt Rex stored vehicles at one of the larger marinas on Widow’s.

  “The home is stunning in the summer,” Cate commented, remembering the multiple times she’d passed by the house on a boat, staring hungrily at the beautiful home.

  “It’s stunning right now,” corrected Henry.

  Truth.

  It felt as if they’d emerged from a wicked wood and found a glorious castle at the end of a journey.

  “What’s it like to live here?” Henry asked Dustin.

  The young man held on tightly to the handrail as he looked back at Henry. “Lonely. Isolated.”

  “Then why stay?” Cate questioned.

  Dustin shrugged. “My uncle pays well. I have benefits, and it’s an easy job. I like to paint a little, and he gave me a huge studio to work in. I’d pay thousands a month in rent for a space like that back home.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “New York.”

  “Isn’t that where Rex’s wife lives now?” Cate asked. She’d lost count of the stairs, and they were only halfway down the cliff.

  “Yeah. She couldn’t handle it here after Becca vanished. Rex refused to leave, but legally they’re still married.”

  Cate could see both points of view. Daily reminders that her daughter had vanished would rip a mother apart. But Rex had stayed in place; she assumed he hoped Becca would return one day. “Understandable. When a child vanishes, it’s devastating for the parents. They each react in their own way.”

  “Rex has changed since Becca disappeared,” Dustin said slowly.

  “How?” Cate asked sharply.

  “You’ll see.”

  4

  Henry followed Cate and Dustin through a back entrance and into the giant home.

  He felt like an intruder. This was police business, not his. But Dustin had concerns about Rex’s health, and Henry felt compelled to stay. It wasn’t every day a father heard his missing daughter’s bones might have been found near his home. Even the healthiest person could go into shock.

  The back door opened into a gigantic mudroom, and after passing through they stepped into a kitchen worthy of an interior design magazine spread. Dustin led them into a great room with soaring ceilings and views of the night sky, black water, and the faint outline of Widow’s Island. Tiny clusters of lights sparkled along the coastline. On the bay’s right, Henry identified the lights of Harlot Harbor, and straight ahead was the town of North Sound.

  A gray-haired man rose out of a window-facing chair and turned to the small group. He was tall and angular with stooped shoulders and a distinctive long face. Henry recognized him immediately from the jacket photos on the back of Conan’s books, but in the pictures his hair was dark brown and his face less lined. The photos didn’t show the current haunted look in his eyes.

  “What’s going on at the south end?” Rex immediately demanded of Dustin. His voice boomed through the room with unexpected strength from such a gaunt man, and he glared at Cate and Henry. “Who’s this?”

  Cate stepped
forward. “I’m FBI Special Agent Wilde. Along with the sheriff’s office, I’m investigating skeletal remains that have been discovered on the south side of your island.” Her voice was calm yet full of steel.

  Holy crap. She considers Rex to be a suspect.

  Henry looked at the older man in a new light.

  Rex Conan took a shaking step backward, steadying himself with a hand on his wing chair. “Whose bones?” The booming voice was gone, replaced with a broken whisper.

  “We don’t know, Mr. Conan.” Cate paused. “It’s possible it could be your missing daughter—but we haven’t found evidence to support that yet. Please don’t jump to conclusions.”

  The older man leaned against the chair, breathing heavily. He’d paled, and Henry took a step in his direction, watching him carefully. “Maybe you should sit down, Mr. Conan.”

  “You with the sheriff’s office?” Rex perched on the arm of the chair, his knuckles white as he gripped the back.

  “No. I’m Dr. Powers. I recently bought the medical practice on Widow’s.”

  “So you’re acting as coroner,” Rex added, staring at him sharply. “What did you see out there, Doctor?”

  Henry felt like a fraud. “I’m not a medical examiner.”

  “I know the difference,” Rex stated. “At least you have a medical background, and I assume you can tell the difference between”—he swallowed hard—“an adult and a teenager.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Henry hedged.

  “Don’t give me that shit. I’ve been writing mysteries for decades. I know what you can tell from bones.” Beads of sweat appeared on Rex’s temples, and he’d turned a sickly shade of gray.

  Alarm shot through Henry, and he took two steps closer. “Are you feeling dizzy?” He took Rex’s wrist, feeling the rapid pulse. “Any vision issues or chest pain?”

  Rex yanked his arm out of Henry’s grip. “I’m not having a fucking heart attack. I’m just caught off guard,” he said shakily, shooting glares at the three people staring at him. He mashed his lips together. “Maybe a little light headed,” he conceded.