Page 63 of Skin and Bones

“News travels fast,” I said.

“It always has,” he said. “I remember Vanessa. She worked at the county clerk’s office. Made her way through several of the higher-ups before she landed on Milton and decided he was her meal ticket. She was an ambitious woman.”

“And now she’s dead,” I said. “It’s hitting pretty close to home.”

“Which means you need to be careful. If there’s anything I know about the people on Grimm Island it’s that there are certain parts of history best left forgotten. I was told more than once when I worked for the DA’s office that it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie. You don’t want to end up as collateral damage.”

“That’s becoming a popular sentiment,” I said dryly. I hesitated, then decided to push my luck. “One more thing—someone mentioned a watch that Elizabeth wore. Expensive, gold, with diamonds around the face. An inscription on the back that said Seek Truth. Stay True. Did you give it to her?”

“If it was expensive it didn’t come from me,” he said with a laugh. “Not back then. I was just a lowly assistant DA. But I remember the watch. She rarely took it off.”

“I appreciate your time,” I said.

“The pleasure was all mine,” he said. “I’ll be looking forward to that phone call.” And then he disconnected.

Walt poked his head into the office and I startled guiltily. I’d been daydreaming about being flirted with instead of thinking about the case.

“There you are,” Walt said. “Got us a meeting with Clint Harrington Jr. in a half an hour. On the mainland. We need to move out.”

I blinked in surprise. “How did you manage that?”

Walt tapped the side of his nose mysteriously. “I’ve got connections.”

“Should I be impressed or terrified?”

“Both,” Walt replied with a wink. “You don’t spend three decades in Naval Intelligence without learning how to collect leverage. Now grab your purse. Ticktock.”

I snatched my bag and followed him out to the main room where Dash was reviewing reports with Harris.

“Where are y’all headed?” he asked.

“Field trip,” I replied brightly. “Walt got us a meeting with Clint Harrington.”

“Don’t worry,” Walt said. “I’m carrying. She’s perfectly safe.”

Bea went into a coughing fit and Dash looked incredulous. I was starting to think maybe I should take Patrick’s gun out of the shoebox and keep it with me. No knock to Walt, but his reflexes weren’t exactly what they used to be.

“And it’s broad daylight,” I said, trying to ease Dash’s mind. “We’re perfectly safe. This is our best chance to talk to Harrington while he’s willing.”

Dash looked back and forth between me and Walt, obviously trying to work through every possible scenario. Finally, he sighed. “Check in every hour. And take a radio. Cell service can be spotty on the causeway.”

“Done,” Walt agreed, looking smug.

“And Reynolds will follow at a discreet distance,” Dash added, signaling to the deputy. “Just as a precaution.”

“Noted,” Walt said, adding under his breath as we headed out, “Amateur. Man couldn’t follow a parade if he was standing on the float.”

Walt drove a pristine black Volvo that probably had bulletproof glass and an ejector seat hidden somewhere. The man might be pushing eighty, but his car was a fortress on wheels.

“Nice ride,” I said, running my hand over the immaculate leather interior. “I expected you to drive a tank.”

“Considered it,” Walt replied without a hint of humor. “But the gas mileage is terrible. And Margaret would never let me have one anyway.”

As we crossed the causeway, I noticed his military posture relax slightly. For the first time since I’d known him, Walt looked almost…normal.

“I’ve never heard you talk about Margaret much.”

“Fifty-two years, three months, and seventeen days we were married,” he replied without hesitation. “Not all smooth sailing, mind you. Marriage never is when you spend half your life deployed. But we weathered the storms together.”

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