“Okay, so let’s talk this through. What if the skull re-creationisthe woman in this picture, someone your mother knew? What are the chances that she would be the one tore-create her face? I don’t know. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”
“It’s strange.” She hovered over the containers. “This smells good. What is it?” Jo opened one of the container lids. “Lasagna. My favorite.”
“Your favorite?” Okay, so that stung. Brad knew, but Cole didn’t.
She looked at him. “I’m hungry, aren’t you?”
I was. But now...?How could she eat at a time like this? But yeah, she should eat, and he would join her. “Let’s eat and we can talk this through.”
He grabbed a small plastic bin, took his turn nuking the lasagna, and ate right out of the personal plastic container. Who needed a plate anyway? You just had to wash it when you were done. Or not.
He sat at the table and ate, but he didn’t taste the food. He had a feeling Jo’s mind was consumed with what they had just learned. If it was actually true. They really needed to confirm the reconstruction identity if possible. He tugged out his cell and called Detective Wilson in Michigan and left a detailed voicemail about what they needed. It was after normal work hours in Michigan, and he hadn’t been sure the man would answer. He had a life, after all, Cole hoped.
“And we need an ID on the people in the picture, specifically the woman. Regarding the skull, we need to know how, where, and when that body was discovered.” He ended the call. Like Rick was working for Cole. He’d already emailed Allison all the information, including an image of the picture. They needed to know who the people were, regardless of the facial reconstruction.
Jo had finished her lasagna. She must have been ravenous. Then she grabbed another soda. She was going to be wired tonight, even though she had to be running on fumes. She started in on the peanut butter cookies.
Even more wired.
“Okay, let’s say—” she stopped and stared at him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? I need the sugar. It’ll let me think. You should try it.”
At the counter, he snatched his own cookie. “Please, continue. You were saying?”
“So, Mom knew this woman and knew something had happened to her, and then when she suddenly sees that she has re-created her, then of course she is freaking out.”
Cole had a thought. A crazy thought, really. “What if ... okay, just hear me out. This is going to sound nuts.”
“Nothing you can say right now will surprise me,” Jo said.
He frowned but continued. “We discussed before that something had to have triggered your mother to start acting strange, and then she warned you that if something happened to her, you should hide. So, what if the skull was deliberately put in her hands to re-create? As some kind of warning.”
Yeah. Ridiculous.
“I was wrong,” she said. “That does surprise me. Hmm.”
He’d have to think on it some more. “It’s all conjecture. Forget I said anything.”
“But it fits. It fits. Don’t you see?” Jo asked. “She was upset, so upset. Cole, I think you’re onto something. I like the way your mind works, but on the other hand, this is morbid. I mean, I’ve read a lot of mysteries, and this falls into line with some of the darkest ones. I should have been the one to come up with that.”
“Seriously, Jo, I’m glad you weren’t.” Because this was truly dark.
“Let’s talk this premise through,” she said. “Going out on that limb with you because, as they say, truth is stranger than fiction. So, someone arranged for her to re-create theskull so that she would be scared? So that she would be warned. Warned about what?”
“Still, how is that a warning?” he asked.
Jo stopped in front of him and stared up. Her eyes full of determination. Of fire. “To let Mom know that she was no longer safe—she’d been found! That’s it!”
Jo rushed around the space as if giddy with excitement, but this was such a morbid topic.
“I think we’re both jumping to alotof conclusions,” he said. “We need a lot more information to land on this theory.” Still ... “Naomi said that Mason was framed. Mason is in the picture, along with your mother and your father. I’ve seen this before. Someone could be eliminating loose ends, killing people, even after decades. Could that same someone have forced your mother to frame Mason through the forensic process? I hate to say that out loud. I don’t mean to indict your mother in this.”
“No, it’s okay. I mean, you’re right, this is all conjecture. But it’s a plausible theory.”
He wasn’t sure about that, but it was a start. “Then, after framing Mason, she died.”
“She was murdered.” She stared at him, long and hard. “And now he’s dead too. Also murdered.”
He was concerned that none of this was accurate, and they were both getting worked up for nothing. “Let’s take this one step at a time.”
