The Bone Field by Debra Bokur (top e book reader txt) 📕

Walter tilted his head in agreement. “Tell her you’re going to record what she says, though. We may need it.”

CHAPTER 30

Kali drove home, intending to have a quick bite and check in on Makena before she headed back to Eden’s River to speak with Abigail. A few enormous raindrops spattered on the windshield of the Jeep, splashing the dust that had gathered on the glass surface. Hilo was waiting on the front of the lanai, whining, when she pulled into her parking space beneath the trees. Instead of running down the front steps to greet her, he remained standing by the front door, his tail lowered into the half-mast position that was always a sign that he was unhappy.

“What’s wrong, boy?” she asked, rubbing his ears. The sky had clouded over, and there was the rumble of distant thunder. She opened the door and went inside, wondering if the approaching storm was causing Hilo to be uneasy. The house was silent. Makena’s door stood open, and Kali walked toward it, noticing that the bed appeared to be stripped. She stood in the threshold and looked inside. The sheets and light bedcover had been neatly folded. The pillowcase was on top, and the bare pillow had been placed just behind the stack of bedding. In front, leaning against the soft stack, was the little horse, and a dress she’d found that was too small for her, which she had left in the closet for Makena.

She walked slowly into the room, followed by Hilo, engulfed by a sinking feeling. There was a piece of paper on the top of the bedding. She lifted it, carrying it to a spot in front of the window where she could study it in the light.

The note was brief, written in Makena’s childish scrawl: I washed all the sheets and blankets. Here’s your dress. I didn’t want you to think I was stealing it. Take care of Hilo. Nothing else. No indication of where she was headed, or how she’d get there. Kali reread the note, gazing out the window at the distant sea. She dropped the piece of paper onto the bed and picked up the small stuffed horse, turning it over in her hands, the softness offering no comfort. She placed it back in its spot near the pillow. Then, hating herself for doing it, she walked through the small house, looking for what might be missing—any small item that Makena might have carried away to sell or use to barter for drugs.

Everything was where she’d left it, including the few pieces of valuable jewelry she possessed. There was a pair of gold earrings with tiny sapphires that Mike had given her for a birthday one year, her good wristwatch, and her grandmother’s wedding band. The ring was too small, and she’d always planned to take it to a jeweler to have it altered to fit her finger, but had just never gotten around to it. She turned it over in her hand, slipping it onto the tip of her finger, then placed it back into the ceramic bowl that served as her jewelry box.

Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her back pocket. She didn’t recognize the number, but when she pushed the button to accept the call, the soft, now-familiar voice of Abigail Waters came through the speaker.

“Detective Mhoe? This is Abigail Waters. I wonder if I might meet you somewhere to talk?”

Kali tried to hide her astonishment. “Yes, of course. I was going to get in touch with you anyway. Can you come to the police station?”

She could sense the hesitation. “Could we meet somewhere less . . . official?” asked Abigail. “I’d like to talk, but I think I’d be uncomfortable there, and it would be best if my father didn’t know.”

“All right,” said Kali, cautious. “But I’ll choose the place, if you don’t mind. There’s a shave-ice stand on the road between where you are and where I am, with picnic tables set up around the food truck. How about there?”

“I know the one you’re talking about. Near the turnoff to the market center?”

“That’s the one,” said Kali.

“Could you meet me there in about an hour?”

Kali glanced at her watch, agreeing on the time. She ended the call, wondering what it was that Abigail wanted to tell her that she felt unsafe saying in front of her father. She left a message for Walter, then took a banana from a bunch on the kitchen counter, and grabbed a light jacket.

By the time she’d driven within sight of the shave-ice stand, the sky had grown dark, and the rain was falling steadily. The heavy drumbeat of drops striking the Jeep’s canvas rooftop was oddly lulling, and she pulled into the parking area of the stand hoping against hope that Abigail might actually tell her something useful that would lead to the discovery of who had left five people in unmarked graves in the old fruit field—even if the people responsible had been her parents.

She peered past the windshield wipers and eased across the dirt parking area, which had devolved into a borderless pool of mud. The stand was shuttered and closed, and the only other vehicle visible was an old pickup truck parked at an angle in the rear of the stand near a line of picnic tables. The truck had been backed into its parking spot, the bed partially extending beneath the overhang of trees that grew along the edge of the space behind it. The headlights were on, shining outward.

Kali backed in beside it and set the parking break. It was impossible to see into the truck’s cab, so she waited, not completely sure that this was Abigail’s vehicle. When it was clear there was no reaction to her arrival from anyone in the truck, she grabbed her jacket and opened the door of the Jeep, then climbed out and pulled the hood over her hair.

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