The Bones She Buried

Forty-Five

Josie drove Luke’s truck back to the farm. He was still largely silent and only seemed to perk up once there inside the farmhouse. She followed him into the kitchen where he immediately started poking around in the fridge and the cabinets and pulling out pans. “You hungry?” he asked.

It was after dinnertime, and she hadn’t eaten all day. Just watching him pull things out of the fridge made her stomach growl. She sat at the table and pulled out her cell phone—still nothing from Noah so she fired off another text pleading with him not to shut her out—and set it on the counter. She’d have to call Gretchen, but she didn’t have the heart to do it just then. “I’m starving,” she told Luke.

He worked quickly and deftly, even with his scarred and mangled hands, to whip up something that smelled positively delicious, while outside the sunlight disappeared behind the horizon. She heard the storm door creak and a moment later, Blue the bloodhound came loping into the kitchen. With a sigh, he plopped down in front of his food and water bowls.

Luke said, “He knows how to open the door.”

“Really?” Josie said. “Well, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen something like that.”

Luke smiled and patted Blue’s head as he moved from the stove to the fridge and back. After he made his final touches to the meal he was making, he took Blue’s bowl and dumped some of the concoction into it. The dog waited patiently for his bowl to be returned while Luke let it cool on the counter. “I hope you like steak stir-fry,” Luke said, presenting her with a plate.

Her mouth filled up with saliva as she took the fork he offered. “I always loved your cooking,” she said. “Thank you.”

He got his own plate and sat across from her. They ate in silence for several minutes. Josie tried to focus on the wonderful flavor of the meal, but her mind kept returning to the scene at Wolicki’s and the fact that one of their last remaining leads had been blown. She just hoped that Gretchen had been able to find Ivan. She checked her email, but there was nothing from anyone at Sutton Stone Enterprises. Not that she expected that lead to pan out. Who kept personnel records for almost forty years?

“You okay?” Luke asked.

“Oh, yes. Fine,” Josie answered.

“Need to call Noah? I can step out.”

“Oh no, we’re not—things aren’t really going that well right now. I do need to call Gretchen though about the case.”

“Got it,” Luke said. “I have to get something. Be right back.”

With a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach, Josie called Gretchen’s cell phone. She picked up on the third ring and said, “You wouldn’t believe how many Ivans there are in this state whose last names begin with U. Underwood, Ulrich, Ulster, Umstead… I’m still looking, though. I can definitely narrow by age range. What’s going on there? Good news, I hope? You still in Sullivan County?”

Josie told her.

“Well, that raises a lot of questions,” Gretchen said.

“Exactly.”

They spoke for a few more minutes, Gretchen having the same thought as Josie about leaks, but they both ultimately agreed that didn’t exactly fit. The killer had been looking for the items Colette was hiding and obviously hadn’t found them on the day of her murder, so he was trying to eliminate whatever it was the items would lead police to discover. The problem for Josie, Mettner and Gretchen was that whoever they were dealing with knew the significance of all three items. No closer to answers than the day before, they agreed to go at it again the next day. Gretchen promised to update Mettner and hung up. Josie finished her meal and took her plate to the sink. Luke appeared in the doorway with a bottle of red wine in one hand and a half-filled bottle of Wild Turkey in the other.

He grinned.

Josie smiled awkwardly. “Oh, yeah. I don’t really… I haven’t had a drink in a long time.”

Luke said, “So you’re not drinking anymore? Not even a glass of wine?”

Josie shifted uncomfortably. She could think of nothing she’d like more in that moment than to drown her frustration in a tall glass of wine followed by numerous shots of Wild Turkey, but since the case that had shattered her world and given her a new family, she’d stopped drinking. “I don’t make good decisions when I drink,” she told him.

He set the bottles on the counter. “I’m not asking you to make a decision. Well, that’s not entirely true. Carrieann won’t be back until tomorrow which normally wouldn’t be a problem, except today really got to me.”

His eyes drifted away from hers, and one of his hands clasped the neck of the wine bottle.

“Luke, I really shouldn’t.”

He looked back up at her. “You’re going to drive three hours home and then what? Go to your empty house?”

Josie almost shot back that her house was pretty full these days, but the truth was that tonight there would be no one there to greet her.

“Josie,” Luke said. “I’m not making a pass at you if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s just really good to see you.”

She nodded. “I appreciate the invitation,” she said. “But I really should get home.”

They said their goodbyes, and she was halfway down the driveway when her cell phone finally dinged. It was a text message from Noah. Except it wasn’t from Noah. The message read:

This is Laura. Please stop texting Noah. He’ll contact you when he’s ready to talk.

Josie braked and sucked in several deep breaths, blinking hard against the hurt and the sudden sting in her eyes. Punching the steering wheel, she spun the car around and drove back up to Luke’s house. This time, Blue greeted her at the door, tail wagging. She let herself inside where Luke was sitting alone at the kitchen table with a shot of Wild Turkey in front of him. He looked startled when he saw her. She sat across from him, picked up his shot and slugged it down, the liquid burning all the way down to her stomach.

“Change of plans,” she said.