15
The next morning Noelle lingered over her coffee in the kitchen at home after Max left for work.
She’d woken with throbbing at the back of her head.
The familiar pain often appeared when she didn’t get enough sleep or was stressed.
A little caffeine, along with a pain reliever, should take care of it within an hour.
As long as she took it easy until then and avoided bright lights and loud noises.
She’d lowered the blinds on the room’s huge windows, wishing they were blackout blinds, and then sat in silence until Emma had appeared.
Emma had glanced at the blinds and given Noelle a look of sympathetic concern.
She knew about the headaches and memory loss.
She also knew Noelle didn’t like to talk about them, so she fixed her breakfast while Noelle silently recited the names of the US presidents in order, telling herself it was proof that her memory was in good shape.
She’d recently memorized the list because she’d forgotten two-thirds of the names she’d learned in school.
That particular memory loss had worried her until Max had demonstrated he recalled even fewer presidents.
Evan and Rowan had also flunked an impromptu presidential quiz.
She smiled at Cornbread, patiently sitting on the kitchen island six inches from Emma’s plate.
The cat closely watched the teenager eat her English muffin, knowing that when Emma was done, she’d share a tiny buttery bite.
After which Cornbread would lick his lips for a full minute as if the piece was the best thing he’d ever eaten.
Noelle was impressed with his restraint.
Some days the cat would lift one paw toward the plate, but a simple shake of Emma’s head would make him pull it back.
They’d tried to keep him off the kitchen island, but it’d been a losing battle.
It’d bothered Noelle for quite a while, but after watching the breakfast tableau several times, she realized she enjoyed observing the cat’s and young woman’s relationship.
Watching the two of them this morning soothed her soul after the late task force meeting and then a night of tossing and turning in bed, wondering how they could find Belle Beason.
The little girl’s face had haunted her most of the night.
Noelle turned her attention back to her laptop and clicked on an email that’d just come through from the FBI.
The gun.
She scanned the email, her throat tightening, and then read it again as shock filled her and she caught her breath.
No. How on earth?
The gun found in one of the graves had been registered to Crystal Chambers twelve years ago.
Emma’s mother.
Two years before she vanished.
Noelle lifted her gaze and saw Emma feed Cornbread that last bite, the teen’s whimsical smile lighting up her face as she watched the cat enthusiastically enjoy the bit of bread. Noelle fought to keep her own expression blank, nausea stirring in her gut as she tried to figure out what to do.
Does that mean Crystal is that set of remains?
Do I tell Emma now?
She didn’t want to upset Emma with partial information.
I’ve got to tell Dr. Peres to have her mother’s dental records compared to this victim.
Noelle knew Crystal Chambers was on the list of people who’d gone missing in the last decade because she’d put her there.
Her husband hadn’t ever bothered to report her missing, which Noelle had found highly suspicious.
Crystal hadn’t been a model citizen. She’d had a list of drug and domestic assault charges.
She and Gage had called the police on each other several times, claiming the other person had hit them.
Noelle had read every report. They were all the same: Gage and Crystal pointing fingers at each other.
Usually one or the other spent a night in jail; usually both had a number of bruises.
But Noelle had noticed Crystal’s criminal history became nearly nonexistent after Emma was born.
Gage’s not so much.
Noelle had run several fruitless database searches trying to find Emma’s mother for her. She’d personally gone to the woman’s dentist and picked up the dental records weeks ago because she suspected that one day they would be needed.
Gage Chambers was still her number one suspect for Crystal’s disappearance.
But Gage is dead.
Noelle wouldn’t fully believe it until she saw Gage’s body.
Emma had accepted that her father had been murdered because a family friend had told her so.
A family friend who was also murdered.
Noelle needed more corroboration.
If Gage Chambers is still alive, he and I will have a discussion.
About Emma. He’d treated his daughter horribly.
What if the male remains are Gage’s?
Noelle’s brain pondered that possibility. The autopsy wasn’t done yet, but Dr. Peres believed that person had been buried within the last few months.
Could Gage have ended up in one of these graves? Both him and Crystal, a decade apart?
She looked back at the email, half hoping that she’d read Crystal Chambers’s name wrong.
Nope. She’d been correct the first time.
“Emma,” Noelle said, before she’d made a decision to speak.
Emma met her gaze with a smile. Cornbread had moved to her lap and was enjoying scratches under his chin.
Noelle opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to find a less alarming way to share her news. “You know that a gun was found at one of those burial sites, right?”
Burial sites sounded much better than murder dumping ground.
“Yes.” The girl frowned, caution entering her eyes as she waited for Noelle to expand on the question.
“I just learned the gun was registered to your mother.”
Emma’s eyes widened, and her fingers stilled under Cornbread’s chin.
“I don’t know what it means,” Noelle added quickly. “I refuse to jump to any conclusions, and I don’t want you to either.”
Emma gave a jerky nod and blinked several times. “Who . . .”
“We don’t have identifications on the remaining victims,” Noelle said. Her voice gentled. “But I will have your mother’s dental records compared immediately.”
The girl nodded again.
“Do you recall any guns that your mother had?”
Emma swallowed hard. “There were all types of guns around. But I associate them with my father more than my mother.” Her face abruptly went white, her eyes stricken.
She’s wondering if her father killed Crystal and left the gun in the grave.
It’d crossed Noelle’s mind too. She also wasn’t ready to bring up the possibility that the male victim could be her father. She’d dumped enough on the girl this morning. She held Emma’s gaze. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t let your thoughts run rampant. We need more information.”
“Did my father kill her?” Emma whispered, her lips barely moving. “I’ve known for a long time that it was a possibility.”
She’s not listening.
Noelle pushed back her stool and walked around the island. She gently turned the girl to face her. “We know nothing,” she said. “Your brain is going to jump to the worst conclusion. Try to wait until we have facts.”
Cornbread squawked, and Emma jerked her hands away from the cat, who leaped from her lap and tore out of the kitchen.
She’d gripped him too hard. Emma sat motionless with her hands still in the air, and Noelle’s heart cracked at the bereft look on the girl’s face.
She pulled Emma off the stool and enveloped her in a secure hug.
It took a moment, but Emma’s arms eventually tightened around Noelle.
“It’ll be okay,” Noelle said, knowing it would never be okay; the girl had lost both her parents. “I’ll get some answers. Today.”
Emma’s shoulders shook and then dropped as she exhaled heavily.
I’ll get that forensic odontologist here today even if I have to drive to Portland to pick her up.