Page 36

After Hawk left, Cole opened up the fridge to look at the food Remi had sent from the Cedar Trails kitchen staff.

She was feeding them too well. Or was it Brad?

He’d have to meet this guy on the other side of this chaos.

Brad was always making Jo’s favorite food.

She’d never mentioned him, but did Brad have an interest in Jo?

A sliver of jealousy carved through him.

Jealousy that maybe Jo had found someone else?

And why shouldn’t she? He hadn’t exactly left her with good feelings about him.

And he couldn’t deny that he was jealous of his brother, who had found the perfect woman.

Cole couldn’t be happier for Hawk. It was about time.

Jo emerged from the hall, her face flushed as she rushed toward him.

He shut the fridge door. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Her eyes were wide and bright. “Where is it?”

“Where is what?” He moved to the counter.

“I need to look at it.” Her words came out breathless, as if she was in full panic mode.

“Whoa, just calm down and tell me what you’re talking about.” He gently gripped her shoulders.

She drew in a long breath and visibly calmed. “The picture. The photograph of my parents together. The one that included Mason Hyde and two others. I gave it to you, didn’t I?”

“It’s in my laptop briefcase. I’ll get it.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you remember something?” He hurried over to the sofa. Hawk had brought their suitcases in, but they hadn’t put them away yet. He flipped open his briefcase on the sofa and pulled out a file folder, then handed it to her.

She opened the file and tugged out the photo. She peered at it closely as she moved into the kitchen for more light.

“That’s her,” she said. “It’s her.” She glanced at him, her eyes flashing with both excitement and fear.

“It’s who?” He pressed his palms against her biceps. “Calm down and explain.”

Tears burst from her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She swiped them away. “This is so convoluted.”

“Why don’t you sit down and catch your breath?” He pulled out a chair for her and she eased into it.

Without asking, he grabbed her a Coke from the fridge, popped the top, and handed it off. “Drink this.”

She stared at the soda, hesitating before finally taking it, then she took a few sips.

“The clay that Remi sent. It reminded me of Mom. She’d finished a facial reconstruction, someone who had been dead for thirty years, and that’s when Mom started acting weird.

I hadn’t thought about it before, but I’m certain of it now. ”

“But what does that have to do with this picture?”

Jo slowly stood. “Because the facial reconstruction she completed was of a woman—she was never identified, as far as I know.” Jo pointed at the picture. “This ... this is the woman.”

Cole stared at the image of the woman. Two women, three men. “How can you be sure?”

“I’m positive. I’m sure. I remember the image.”

Cole considered it. Jo’s mind could be putting this woman’s face in her memory. “Is there a way for us to get the image she created of the skull?”

She sagged. “You don’t believe me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But ... you’re right.”

“About what? I haven’t said anything to be right about.”

“I mean, even if my mother did re-create a face from the skeletal remains, it’s subjective. It’s one of the most controversial techniques in forensic art. Take a look at this picture.” She whipped out her cell and scrolled through the images to show him a picture of a sculpted face.

He stared at it. “It’s very similar, I’ll give you that.” He wished he could sound more certain for her sake.

She stared at the image and then again at the photograph.

“You could definitely be onto something. You said it was subjective, but it works, though, right? I mean, missing people are found using this method, reconstructing from their remains, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, and that’s the only reason it’s still in use. Because it has worked at times. Mom preferred it. She relied on information from a forensic anthropologist. Like age, sex, and ancestry.”

“Okay, is it possible that your mother, the artist, somehow created this woman’s face? A face that she knew because she obviously knew the woman in the picture.” Cole shrugged. He had no idea how this stuff worked.

“It’s possible,” she said.

“We need to look at the reconstruction and find out who the woman in the picture is. For all we know, she is alive and well. But if she’s missing, that will tell us something.

But ... Jo, if your mother recognized this reconstruction, she would have told the police, right?

” That was just another reason why it made no sense to him.

“She didn’t. That’s just it, Cole.” Jo stood and paced the kitchen.

“She didn’t. The police had the image she created, the sculpture, but they had no name to go with it and were still searching for an identity.

Even with all the science and technology, DNA, many remains never get identified.

So maybe you’re right. Mom didn’t tell them because this skull wasn’t the woman in the picture.

I’m jumping to conclusions in my desperate need for answers.

” Jo looked up at him, her gaze searching for reassurance, begging him to get on board with this.

“Then again, she was upset. I’m telling you that’s when she acted strange.

That’s when she told me if something happened to her, then I should run.

Right after she finished this—I think she must have recognized this face.

It was a few days later that we argued. I was furious and left. I never saw her again.”

“Okay, so timeline here. When did she create the incriminating image that identified Mason Hyde?”

“She worked on that right after this sculpture. I’m telling you, something was upsetting her.”

Cole moved back to the fridge and got out the plastic containers of food. He’d been starving and ready to eat when Jo had rushed in with this new information, but now his appetite was fading.

“Okay, so let’s talk this through. What if the skull re-creation is the woman in this picture, someone your mother knew? What are the chances that she would be the one to re-create her face? I don’t know. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“It’s strange.” She hovered over the containers. “This smells good. What is it?” Jo opened one of the container lids. “Lasagna. My favorite.”

“Your favorite?” Okay, so that stung. Brad knew, but Cole didn’t.

She looked at him. “I’m hungry, aren’t you?”

I was. But now...? How could she eat at a time like this? But yeah, she should eat, and he would join her. “Let’s eat and we can talk this through.”

He grabbed a small plastic bin, took his turn nuking the lasagna, and ate right out of the personal plastic container. Who needed a plate anyway? You just had to wash it when you were done. Or not.

He sat at the table and ate, but he didn’t taste the food.

He had a feeling Jo’s mind was consumed with what they had just learned.

If it was actually true. They really needed to confirm the reconstruction identity if possible.

He tugged out his cell and called Detective Wilson in Michigan and left a detailed voicemail about what they needed.

It was after normal work hours in Michigan, and he hadn’t been sure the man would answer. He had a life, after all, Cole hoped.

“And we need an ID on the people in the picture, specifically the woman. Regarding the skull, we need to know how, where, and when that body was discovered.” He ended the call.

Like Rick was working for Cole. He’d already emailed Allison all the information, including an image of the picture.

They needed to know who the people were, regardless of the facial reconstruction.

Jo had finished her lasagna. She must have been ravenous. Then she grabbed another soda. She was going to be wired tonight, even though she had to be running on fumes. She started in on the peanut butter cookies.

Even more wired.

“Okay, let’s say—” she stopped and stared at him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? I need the sugar. It’ll let me think. You should try it.”

At the counter, he snatched his own cookie. “Please, continue. You were saying?”

“So, Mom knew this woman and knew something had happened to her, and then when she suddenly sees that she has re-created her, then of course she is freaking out.”

Cole had a thought. A crazy thought, really. “What if ... okay, just hear me out. This is going to sound nuts.”

“Nothing you can say right now will surprise me,” Jo said.

He frowned but continued. “We discussed before that something had to have triggered your mother to start acting strange, and then she warned you that if something happened to her, you should hide. So, what if the skull was deliberately put in her hands to re-create? As some kind of warning.”

Yeah. Ridiculous.

“I was wrong,” she said. “That does surprise me. Hmm.”

He’d have to think on it some more. “It’s all conjecture. Forget I said anything.”

“But it fits. It fits. Don’t you see?” Jo asked.

“She was upset, so upset. Cole, I think you’re onto something.

I like the way your mind works, but on the other hand, this is morbid.

I mean, I’ve read a lot of mysteries, and this falls into line with some of the darkest ones.

I should have been the one to come up with that. ”

“Seriously, Jo, I’m glad you weren’t.” Because this was truly dark.

“Let’s talk this premise through,” she said. “Going out on that limb with you because, as they say, truth is stranger than fiction. So, someone arranged for her to re-create the skull so that she would be scared? So that she would be warned. Warned about what?”

“Still, how is that a warning?” he asked.

Jo stopped in front of him and stared up. Her eyes full of determination. Of fire. “To let Mom know that she was no longer safe—she’d been found! That’s it!”

Jo rushed around the space as if giddy with excitement, but this was such a morbid topic.

“I think we’re both jumping to a lot of conclusions,” he said.

“We need a lot more information to land on this theory.” Still .

.. “Naomi said that Mason was framed. Mason is in the picture, along with your mother and your father. I’ve seen this before.

Someone could be eliminating loose ends, killing people, even after decades.

Could that same someone have forced your mother to frame Mason through the forensic process?

I hate to say that out loud. I don’t mean to indict your mother in this. ”

“No, it’s okay. I mean, you’re right, this is all conjecture. But it’s a plausible theory.”

He wasn’t sure about that, but it was a start. “Then, after framing Mason, she died.”

“She was murdered.” She stared at him, long and hard. “And now he’s dead too. Also murdered.”

He was concerned that none of this was accurate, and they were both getting worked up for nothing. “Let’s take this one step at a time.”

“You don’t think it sounds possible? You’re the one who came up with it.”

Yeah , I know. “It sounds ... out there.”

“Cole. Seriously. My life is out there right now. Nothing makes any sense, except for this.”

Cole couldn’t take that from her. Not now.

Not yet. Not when it seemed to energize her and give her hope.

But he couldn’t imagine a body being dug up in Michigan or planted there to begin with.

Someone would have to already know where her mother was, if it was a warning.

And what a morbid, disgusting warning. He’d find out how and where the body or the skull was discovered. That would tell them something.

But if her theory was anywhere even close to the truth, then they were dealing with a very sick person.

And his fear for Jo’s safety just shot through the roof.

They needed to know what the incident was that trapped Jo in this dangerous space.

The windows rattled with the wind, startling them both. Jo jumped closer to Cole.

“It was just a gust of wind.” He took the opportunity to pull her in even closer. Holding her calmed his nerves, soothed his soul.

“I don’t know, Cole. That sounds like tapping. Creepy tapping.”

“And why would anyone be out in this weather, tapping on the window?” Why not shoot them where they stood in the kitchen?

He pushed her behind him.