27
Kate directed Tom to Lovecraft Lane and the wrought iron gate that marked the entrance to Maynard-King Hospital. Tom flashed his CGIS badge—and the same guard that had been there the day before leaned down to examine it.
“What can I do for you?” the guard asked.
“We’re here to speak to Darla Vandeveer,” Tom said.
“You have Coast Guard business with Ms. Vandeveer?” he asked, sounding skeptical.
“I’ll discuss that with her,” Tom said.
The sentry glowered at him but stepped into the stone guardhouse to call. He returned a moment later. “She’s not in her office right now.”
“That’s okay,” Tom said. “Let us in anyway.”
“No way is that happening. I don’t see what right you think you have to just come in here without permission from Ms. Vandeveer. I mean, what does the Coast Guard Investigative Service have to do with the hospital?”
“It’s more about the waterfront,” Tom said. “Narragansett Bay is my jurisdiction, and you have a dock. So let us in, and we’ll be out of here soon.”
Conor stared at the guard, knowing that he had no idea Tom was the sector commander, doing the enforcement division’s dirty work only because the case meant something personal to him.
“Whatever,” the guard said. “But like I said, she’s not in her office.”
“That’s fine,” Tom said. “I want to go down and look at the dock. Can you tell me anything about boats that tie up there regularly?”
“No, sir,” the guard said.
“Well, I’ll take a look myself,” Tom said.
The gate rattled open, and they drove in. Conor had explained how they had connected Leprince de Beaumont Associates with Maynard-King. Kate didn’t know where Darla Vandeveer’s office was located, but she had an idea of who would.
“The dock is that way,” she said, pointing east. “I saw it from the top of the hill when we went to Jonathan Tyler’s grave. Let me out here, though.”
“Why?” Conor asked.
“I want to walk up to the cemetery,” she said. “We can text each other and meet up after you check out the dock.”
“Kate, stay with us,” Conor said. “This place is in the center of it all.”
“I’ll be fine,” Kate said, giving him a reassuring smile as she got out of the truck. He was being protective and didn’t look happy, but he didn’t try to stop her.
She watched the Reid brothers drive away, toward the dock.
Then she turned in the other direction and walked up the rise toward the graveyard.
As soon as she entered the beech grove, she heard the rumble of an ATV.
The young woman she remembered from last time drove out from behind the shed and stopped in front of Kate.
“Hi,” Kate said.
“Hi,” Jennifer said. “Where are your friends? The other two you came with before.”
“My niece is back in Watch Hill,” Kate said. “Our friend Maeve . . . well, that’s a mystery.” She thought she saw a look of recognition in Jennifer’s eyes, at the mention of Maeve’s name. “We don’t know where she is. She’s missing.”
“That’s horrible,” Jennifer said. “You must be so worried.”
“Very,” Kate said. “We think she was taken.”
Jennifer seemed to take that in. Then she asked, “Like, kidnapped?”
“Possibly,” Kate said.
Another long pause before Jennifer spoke again. “Who would do that?”
“We’re trying to figure that out,” Kate said.
“I hope it’s not true, that she was kidnapped,” Jennifer said. “I hope she just went away on her own. She’ll come back. Right? Don’t you think? It’s too awful to imagine her being taken.”
Kate noticed an anxious tone in Jennifer’s voice. Her words weren’t casual—they seemed very urgent, and Kate wondered if Jennifer had heard about Maeve—or perhaps other women—going missing before.
“I want to visit Dr. Tyler’s grave again,” Kate said. “Would that be okay?”
“Yeah,” Jennifer said. “Hop on, and I’ll give you a ride.”
Kate climbed onto the seat behind Jennifer and was struck by the fact that she seemed more friendly than last time. The ride was quick but very bumpy, and Kate was glad when they got to the cemetery. They parked at the entrance and walked through the headstones toward D3.
“How did you wind up working here?” Kate asked.
“Uh, just, I needed a job, and they needed someone on the grounds crew.”
“It seems as if you’re mostly stationed here, at the cemetery.”
“I am, someone has to keep it up. Keep everything trimmed and neat.”
“I’m sure the families appreciate it,” Kate said.
“I hope so,” Jennifer said.
Kate knew the way to Jonathan’s grave from last time.
She could see the large stone angel as they walked toward it.
Her heart sped up the closer they got. She wondered whether there would be another note.
But when they stopped in front of Jonathan Tyler’s grave, she could see that the ground was bare. No note, no white roses.
“Do you want to be alone for a minute?” Jennifer asked. “I guess he must be really important to you, to visit twice in such a short time.”
“I don’t need to be alone,” Kate said. “I never knew him.”
Jennifer looked surprised. “Then . . . why are you here?”
“Because of who he was married to,” Kate said.
“Belle?” Jennifer asked. “You know Belle?”
The shortened name sent prickles down Kate’s back. “I knew her as ‘Belinda,’” Kate said. “That was her name.”
“We called her Belle here,” Jennifer said.
“She came here?” Kate asked. She took note of Jennifer’s use of the past tense.
Jennifer nodded. “She sure did,” she said. She turned away and took a few steps toward the gravestone.
“When was the last time?” Kate asked. But Jennifer had crouched down and was pulling out some weeds that had sprouted around the stone.
There was a distant drone of a powerboat speeding up the bay.
Kate glanced down the hill. She could see Tom’s truck parked by a boathouse.
He and Conor were standing on the dock, beside one of the boats tied alongside.
“How well did you know ‘Belle’?” Kate asked.
“We all knew her,” Jennifer said, still tending to the weeds. “You might say she was Maynard-King royalty. The lady of the house.”
“Why?”
“She was married to Dr. Tyler.”
“Why does that make her royalty?”
“He was everything to us,” Jennifer said, finally turning around. Her face was red, and she had what Kate took to be fear in her eyes.
“Last time I was here, you asked my niece if she was ‘one of us.’ Was Belinda—Belle—one of you? Was she a patient here?” Kate asked, and Jennifer’s eyes narrowed.
“We’re not allowed to say who was and who wasn’t a patient here,” Jennifer said. “Everyone who comes here is promised privacy, and we keep that promise.”
“Fair enough,” Kate said.
“I’m glad you understand.”
Kate wanted to get around Jennifer’s devotion to patient confidentiality. She decided to confront her. She knew that Belinda’s name had not been released to the media yet. It was being held back pending notification of next of kin.
“You spoke of Belinda in the past tense. Why is that?” Kate asked.
“Because she hasn’t been here in a while,” Jennifer said.
“Is that the real reason?” Kate asked.
“What else would it be?” Jennifer shrugged and looked down at the ground.
“Did you hear what happened to her?” Kate asked. “She was Dr. Tyler’s widow. And now she’s gone.”
Jennifer nodded. She raised her head, her eyes glittering with tears. “We all know. They told us she was murdered. I can’t believe it. She was so special, so good to me and all of the girls.”
“All of the girls?” Kate asked. “What girls?”
“Just . . . never mind. You knew Belle?”
“I did. And I know Suzanne.” Kate stared at Jennifer, wondering how she would react to her next statement. “I feel so bad for her daughter.”
“Oh my god. Losing a mother, especially Belle. No one could love a daughter more . . .”
“Were Belinda and Suzanne close?” Kate asked, her heart pounding. Jennifer was so close to saying that Belinda was Suzanne’s mother.
Jennifer seemed to freeze.
“Suzanne did the calligraphy for my wedding—she is very talented,” Kate said, changing course. “I have the feeling she calligraphed that beautiful note we found at the grave, the last time we were here.”
“She did. You shouldn’t have taken it,” Jennifer said. “It was for Dr. Tyler.”
“He was her stepfather,” Kate said.
“I didn’t say that!” Jennifer said.
“But if Belinda were her mother, then it stands to reason that Dr. Tyler must have been her stepfather. We found the wedding announcement, and it said that Belinda’s daughter was their flower girl. She would have been Suzanne’s age.”
“I’ve got to get back to work,” Jennifer said.
“You don’t want to talk about Suzanne?”
“Not really.”
“You know, I had the feeling you recognized Maeve’s name when I said it before. When I said she’s missing,” Kate said.
“No, I didn’t,” Jennifer said.
“I wasn’t sure whether it was her name you recognized or whether you’ve heard about other girls and women going missing—being taken.”
A flash of alarm crossed Jennifer’s eyes.
“Why would I know anything about that? It sounds terrible,” she said.
“Is that who you meant by ‘all the girls’?” Kate asked. “The ones who’ve been taken?”
“You’d better go now,” Jennifer said.
“Can I ask one more thing? You mentioned that Dr. Tyler was loved and that people miss him. I saw white roses on the grave last time. And Suzanne’s note. Do a lot of people leave things there?”
“Yes, many gifts,” she said. She seemed to relax slightly, because the question had nothing to do with Belinda or family connections.
“Like what?”
“Well, roses always. They were his favorite flower. But other things. Mementos, little trinkets. We leave things that mean something to us, that we know would have touched his heart. See, he taught about selfless love. If you loved, truly loved someone, you would give them whatever is most important to you.”
Chills ran down Kate’s spine as Jennifer opened a compartment in her ATV. Kate watched her remove a small pale-cream satin jewelry pouch. She held it out to Kate, and Kate leaned forward to see what was inside.
There were dry rosebuds. There were fragments of blue robins’ eggs. Pieces of sea glass. Moonstones and wishing stones. A pile of cards, stationery, folded yellow legal paper. And many single earrings.
“What are all of those?” Kate asked.
“Treasures. Gifts and notes left on the grave. I usually let them stay there for a week or so, then gather them up to make room for more.”
“What about those earrings?” Kate said. “Mismatched?”
“Not really. People visit and decide to leave an earring.”
“Why would they do that?”
“An offering,” Jennifer said. “A sign of love and respect.”
“Are those real jewels in those earrings? That one looks like it’s set with sapphires and diamonds,” Kate said.
“Probably,” Jennifer said.
“Is that one a real pearl?” Kate asked, pointing at a single-stud earring.
“Looks it,” Jennifer said. “But just because they’re jewels doesn’t make them more precious than the rosebuds. Gifts are all about the intention.”
“Another reason for you to remove them from the grave is that someone might come along and steal them—especially the diamond and pearl ones.”
“No one would do that.” Jennifer laughed. “You really don’t know how much everyone loves him. To you, these are just objects. To the people who leave them, they are signs of love, a way of giving back. Diamond love.”
“What is ‘diamond love’?” Kate asked.
“Look, I have to work now. Sorry about your wedding being canceled,” Jennifer said curtly, as if aware she had said too much.
“How do you know about that?” Kate asked.
Jennifer reddened, as if realizing she’d slipped up.
“Anyway, I’m going back to the maintenance shed. Do you want a ride?” Jennifer asked.
“No, thanks,” Kate said. “I’m meeting someone down at the dock. But first—where is Darla Vandeveer’s office?”
“It’s between the main building and the gazebo,” Jennifer said. “It’s a little white house, and there’s a stone statue in front of it.”
Kate thought it unusual that the business office would be in a house. “Does she actually live there?” she asked.
“Not Darla, it’s not her style. It hasn’t been used as that kind of house in years. It’s just for offices.” Jennifer started the ATV and put it into gear.
Kate stared at her. There was something furtive, almost feral about Jennifer. She was a keeper of secrets. How had she first come to Maynard-King? Was she one of the trafficked girls?
“Jennifer!” Kate called over the sound of the engine. “What’s 1740?”
Jennifer stepped on the brake and turned toward Kate.
“1740 is everything,” Jennifer said. She gave Kate a radiant smile, then drove away.