“I’m posting someone up there all night,” Tessa answered. “I already worked out a shift rotation so no one is there for too many hours overnight. Bruce has been up there most of the day.”
“Do you need any more manpower?” asked Henry. “I’m capable of scaring off some snoops.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” said Tessa. “But I think we’re covered.”
“I’ll get Jeff Lamb’s visitor and call list from the prison,” said Mike. “I want to know who he’s been talking with for the past eight years.”
“Are we moving too fast?” asked Tessa. “Are we wrong to push forward so hard on the Lamb murder connection?”
“No,” said Cate firmly. “I’m positive this is related.”
She felt it in her gut.
5
Cate was distracted.
As she started to wipe down a table at the bakery, she realized she’d already cleaned it twice. Yet the next table over still had the flaky crumbs of a croissant spread across its top and under the high chair. The customer and her toddler had left more than ten minutes ago.
She gave herself a shake and tackled the crumbs.
Her focus was nonexistent, her mind constantly wondering what was happening at the burial site. Mike, Tessa, and the newly arrived forensic anthropologist had left for the location nearly six hours ago. She checked the clock behind the bakery counter. It was nearly three o’clock, and she hadn’t heard a word from anyone. She was being left out, and she didn’t like it.
Not my business anymore.
Then why am I on pins and needles?
Jane bustled out of the kitchen, a large tray of assorted pastries in her hands. She set it near the case and restocked. There was always a midafternoon rush on iced-coffee drinks and snacks. Cate wasn’t going to get rich running the bakery and bookstore, but she supported several employees and enjoyed the relaxing work.
And no one would shoot at her.
Hopefully.
The bells on the door jingled, and an older woman with a lovely genuine smile stepped in. Cate couldn’t help but smile in return. Behind the woman, Bruce pulled the door shut. He was in uniform.
Aha. This must be his visiting mother.
Cate wiped her hands on her apron. “Afternoon, Bruce.” He had dark circles under his brown eyes. No doubt a result of the long dull hours watching over the crime scene. He’d started to return her greeting when his mother stepped over to Cate and took her hand.
“I’m Patsy. Bruce’s mom. He told me about you, Cate. You have a darling little bakery.” She was a petite woman with long curly brown hair, beautifully streaked with natural gray and blonde.
Cate sensed a lot of strength in the small woman.
“Thank you.”
Patsy looked pleased, patted Cate’s hand, and turned to the bakery counter, where Jane stood watching the encounter, an amused look on her face.
“Oh my,” said Patsy, looking from Jane back to Cate. “The genes are strong, aren’t they? Clearly you two are related.”
“Jane is my grandmother.”
“So nice to meet you. Please call me Patsy.” Bruce’s mother took Jane’s hand the same way she’d taken Cate’s. “Oh! We’re going to get along wonderfully, Jane. I can tell already. There’s nothing better than being around other women with similar souls.” Her gaze went to the pastry case. “Tell me about that amazing-looking bun with the caramel.”
“She can be a bit much at first,” Bruce said softly as he stepped next to Cate. Jane and Patsy started to chat as if they’d known each other for decades. “I’m not surprised those two have hit it off. Jane’s reminded me of my mother since I first met her.”
“Patsy is wonderful,” said Cate. She was one of those people who emitted positive energy. It was palpable.
“We’re supposed to meet Chris here. He has the rental keys,” Bruce said. “I love my mother, but she and Julie are both strong personalities, and our home is too small for both of them. She’s only been here a few hours, and I swear my place has shrunk to half its size.”
Cate grinned at the exasperation in his voice, watching as Patsy whipped out a cell phone and showed pictures to Jane.
“Two grandbabies. Aren’t they beautiful!”
Jane enthusiastically agreed as Patsy shot a side-eye at Bruce.
“Stop it, Mom,” he ordered. “We’re not even married yet.” He snorted and turned to Cate. “Ever since both my sisters had babies, she won’t let up on me and Julie. Another reason to put some space between those two.”
The doorbells jingled as a tall bald man with a goatee came in.
“Hey, Chris,” Bruce greeted the real estate agent. He shook the man’s hand and led him to meet his mother.
Chris lifted a hand at Cate, and she returned the gesture, wondering how the mellow and reserved man would get along with Patsy Taylor. Cate suspected Patsy would overwhelm him within two minutes. Bruce excused himself, and Patsy immediately started chatting with Chris, whose eyes went wide at the ambush of her friendly energy.
He can handle it.
Cate’s phone vibrated in her apron’s pocket, and Mike’s name popped up on her screen. Cate strode behind the counter, through the kitchen, and out the back door, her phone clenched in her hand, subtle excitement vibrating in her bones.
“Mike?” she answered as she stepped into the quiet alley behind the bakery. “What’d you find out?”
“Good afternoon to you too,” he said.
Cate rolled her eyes.
“I knew you were invested in this case,” Mike told her. “You can’t resist a puzzle.”
“Just tell me what’s going on.”
“You were right about there being three graves. We’ve looked extensively, and I’m sure there’s no more . . . at least not at this exact site. Those three were in a perfect line—like we found at the original site—and we can’t see a hint of others beyond those.”
“Do we—do you need to bring in GPR?” she asked, referring to ground-penetrating radar.
“Not right now. Maybe later.”
“What was in them?”
Mike cleared his throat. “All three victims are female, and their remains are fully skeletal. The forensic anthropologist says they’re younger adults. Probably twenties and thirties. He’ll tighten up an age range later.”
“Any indication of cause of death?”
“Not yet, but he did notice knife marks on the ribs of one and a cracked skull on another.”
Cate nodded as Mike spoke. Jeff Lamb had done a variety of things to kill his victims on the stone altar. Cut throats, stabbings, blows to the head, asphyxiation.
“Lockets?”
“Yep. Two more. The faces are blurry as usual, but they’re clearly young women. Tessa is trying to compare them to some missing person photos, but it will take dental records to identify them.”
“Lamb did this, didn’t he?” asked Cate.
“No, I don’t think he did.”
“What? Why not?” It sounded exactly like Jeff Lamb to her.
“I saved the best for last. We found two quarters in one of the graves near the hip bones.”