Page 220 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Nate walked to the bakery, glancing at his watch as he approached the steps. Somehow the morning had gotten away from him. At the crack of dawn, he’d rolled out of bed, responding with the fire department when the Allwrights’ carbon monoxide detector alerted them to a problem. After the fire chief had given the family the all-clear, Nate had headed into the office and gotten to work, finally digging into Trace Miller and his three kids’ backgrounds. For the most part, his twin sons Trevor and Conner and youngest daughter Jessica were unremarkable in the eyes of the law. Trevor and his wife were physicians with Doctors Without Borders and Conner hadn’t lived in the country for the last twelve years, traveling as a dentist with Operation Smiles.

After several hours of perusing databases and the Internet, Nate hadn’t gotten much—a couple of hits here and there. In 1997, seventeen-year-old Jessica had wrapped her BMW convertible around a tree, nearly killing herself and her passenger after a night of boozing it up. Jessica’s blood alcohol level had teetered just over the limit—a big problem for Jessica until Daddy had hired a pack of powerhouse attorneys who got her DUI and reckless endangerment charges reduced down to a slap on the wrist for underage drinking. That had been about it until Nate stumbled upon a couple of college newspapers with Conner and Trevor mentioned in the sports pages. Nate had surmised that the Miller twins had been legends on their campus—Dartmouth frat boys and football players who made plenty of time to party hard and get their drink on in between their classes and practices. But there were no red flags to speak of—nothing that painted Trace Miller’s sons as deviants and murderers. Selfish, spoiled assholes who had no regard for other people’s property, yes, but certainly nothing he’d found suggested that they’d killed a young, single mother in the woods. He’d hoped to make a few calls and ask his questions, but after several frustrating minutes on the phone, Nate had discovered that neither of the two men were in locations that made an interview possible, which meant their father would have to do when Nate headed over to the mainland tomorrow to get Trace Miller’s thoughts on the destruction that took place at the cabin in Brewster’s Forest.

He stepped into Carter Island Deli and Bakery, where Callie and Molly were busy serving food and drinks behind the counter. Business was booming today with the temperatures in the mid-forties—comfortable after the cold sweep.

“Nate,” Buzz Deacon greeted him with a wave from one of the tables in the corner.

“Hey, Buzz.” Nate waved back, sending a quick nod to Matthew sitting next to him.

Callie peeked up from under her lashes, biting her bottom lip and smiling as she made change at the register.

Nate grinned, immediately flashing back to their exceptional night of straightening out any of their lingering differences. Their dinner for two never happened, instead turning into a meal for three when he’d driven Bess out to their place for baked potatoes, soup, and salad after he’d finally gotten the mess cleaned up in her waterlogged kitchen. But he and Callie had been able to squeeze in a long, hot bath—a great compromise as far as he was concerned. Tearing his gaze away from Callie’s, he focused on Buzz and Matthew’s table, walking their way as he studied Buzz’s half-eaten Danish and the remains of Matthew’s fruit salad, always willing to engage his constituents and friends in a little small talk.

“Nathan.” Matthew smiled. “How are things?”

Nate nodded his satisfaction. “Not too bad.”

“Have you heard from my nephew lately?”

“Not recently, but I’m hoping to grab lunch with him when I head over to the mainland tomorrow.”

“Big plans in the city?” Buzz wanted to know, then took a huge bite of cherries, cream cheese, and flaky pastry.

Nate shrugged. “Not really. Just checking into a couple of things.”

Buzz held up a finger as he chewed and swallowed. “You still looking for Callie’s mother?”

Nate nodded again as he settled his hands in his pockets. “Here and there. If a lead comes my way, I check into it.”

Buzz wiped his fingers on his paper napkin. “How’s it going?”

Always a tricky question, but he understood how important it was to keep the lines of communication open in the community. If people felt they could ask him outright, it was easier for him when it was his turn to track down the answers he needed. “It’s pretty slow. There hasn’t been a whole lot to work with. I wish I could say more, but I can’t since this is still an open investigation.”

Buzz nodded. “You think you’ll ever find her?”

“That’s the goal but we’ll have to see.”

“Sheriff.” Captain Bob laid his hand on Nate’s shoulder as he came up behind him. “Excuse me, Nate.”

Nate turned, looking at the dented men’s boot box in Bob’s hand.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure.” Nate gave his attention back to Buzz and Matthew. “I’ll see you around town.”

“Always nice chatting, Nate,” Buzz said.

Nate followed Bob a few feet out of the way in the busy space. “Good morning.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of time. Gotta get back on the boat for the next ride over to Hyannis Port, but Kay said I would find you here.”

Nate’s gaze darted back to the box. “What can I do for you?”

“I was out in my old storage shed yesterday, looking for some of my fishing gear I haven’t touched in a couple of years, and I found some stuff from my brother’s place shoved in back on one of the shelves.”

The flood of excitement rushed through Nate’s veins as he took the banged-up cardboard, careful not to spill the contents from the rip along the side. “This is Silas’s?”