Page 29 of Water's Edge

“Where are you exactly?”

“We’re about halfway to Hadlock. What’s up?” I can tell it’s important or he would wait until we got back to the office.

“I just got a call from the state patrol I thought you might be interested in.”

“I already talked to the state guy at the scene. MacDonald. He didn’t know anything. His shoes were sure shiny, though.”

“Not him, Megan, and be nice. They have a tough job, and you might need them to back you up someday.”

He is right, of course. “So who did you talk to?” And why would I be interested?

“Trooper Lonigan. Working out on Marrowstone Island today. He got your APB and wants you to call him. He may have a lead on who your Jane Doe is.”

“Jane Snow,” I correct him.

“What?”

“Nothing, Sheriff. Give me the number and I’ll call from where we are.” I pull over and write down the number Sheriff Gray gives me, but I don’t really need to. I’m good with numbers.

When I hang up, Ronnie says, “Marrowstone? Maybe she’s from there.”

“Yep.” I dial the number and it’s answered promptly.

“State Patrol, Lonigan.”

“This is Detective Carpenter, Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office. Sheriff told me to call you.”

“Okay.”

I wait. Why is everyone making me wait today?

“Why am I calling you?”

“’Cause I got your bulletin about the missing woman and a scary photo. I understand from MacDonald you found the body down at the state park. I was in the Nordland General Store a while ago. You know where that’s at?”

I don’t.

I say, “I think so.”

“They got some really good sandwiches there. But anyway, I was reading your bulletin while I was eating an early lunch and I said something to Cass. She’s the owner. Makes a mean meat loaf, too, I’ll tell you.”

I am silent this time. I’m hungry too.

“Anyway, I told her what Mac said, and what you had in your bulletin, and we put two and two together and come up with Joe Bobbsey.”

There are hundreds of state patrol officers in Washington State and I had to draw the simple-minded one.

“Joe Bobbsey is my victim?” I ask, confused.

“No. I’m getting to that. You probably don’t know Joe. He moved here from Indiana about ten, fifteen years back. He was a farmer but now he owns some land and built fishing cabins.”

I say it this time: “Okay.”

“Well, Cass says there’s a youngish woman that matches your description in the store weekly. She said the lady gets her groceries here. She’d do better to go to one of the new big stores in Silverdale. Cheaper by far and a better selection too.”

“Cass?”

“Cass runs the place. Says the woman always pays in cash. Has a pocketful of dollar bills and change. So, anyhow, she didn’t come in this Sunday. She matches the description and I thought I’d check it out for you.”

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