Instead of sleeping, she sat in bed and sketched images of her mother and her father, separate and then together. Another image of the unidentified woman. Jo imagined her mother creating the reconstruction of the skull and then stepping back to look at her work. The shock that could have rolled through her at that moment when she recognized the face.
Jo closed her eyes. What had Mom thought? Had herfirst thought been that someone had found her? That it was a warning? Cole was right. They needed to know more about where the body was found. Where and how. Jo didn’t believe in coincidences, so it was hard to fathom that her mother would happen to process a skull of someone she knew. Still, it was within the realm of possibility. Add to the equation her reaction and the danger that followed, and Jo was convinced the reconstruction was part of it all.
Seeing that skull had prompted Mom to finally tell Jo the truth about Dale and about her biological father, though she hadn’t told Jo his name. Weirdly, Mom had claimed she didn’t know.
She didn’t know who Jo’s father was?
Her mother was a liar. And yet, maybe to Mom, the lies had been worth it if it meant protecting Jo.
Well,look at me now,Mom.
Mason Hyde was dead. Mom was dead. Pop was on the run from danger—and certain death. The woman in the photo was dead, or so that was their working theory. Was the other man in the photo still alive? Jo wasn’t in the photograph, but she’d inherited the danger because, what, she knew something? Something so terrible, so horrific, that her pursuer needed to silence anyone connected to the knowledge? Jo had no idea, and she was apparently in danger by proximity.
Knowledge was power, as the saying went.
Or, in this case, the appearance of knowledge was deadly.
32
The next morning, Cole offered Detective Sanders coffee and then brought him up to speed. They sat at the table in the breakfast nook. Listening, Jo stood at the kitchen counter slathering cream cheese on her bagels. Cole thought it best to give Sanders the information about the skull and see if he came up with a similar theory rather than hand-feeding him the theory that her mother had been warned with the skull reconstruction.
Sanders sipped on coffee like they were old friends and frowned. “Have you heard from Michigan yet on where the skull was found?”
“I talked to Detective Wilson this morning,” Cole said. “He said this was a new twist and one he’d never heard of before. He almost sounded hesitant to look into the details about where the skull had been discovered, but he knows we’ll just go around him if he doesn’t stay involved.”
Sanders clasped his hands and leaned forward. “Let me be clear. You won’t need to go around me.”
Cole wasn’t entirely sure why Sanders would be soinvested, but maybe he was like a pit bull and had no intention of letting go.
“In my past work experience,” Sanders said, “I was involved in a case where several people were eliminated due to their connection to one event. Without knowing more, I almost get the feeling this has the markings of that kind of case.”
Although the detective hadn’t mentioned the possibility that the skull was meant to be a warning to Mira, Sanders was tracking with them. The detective intrigued Cole. He wasn’t the kind of man to hold everything too close. Detectives usually didn’t like to share their information while working an investigation. But maybe in this case, Sanders knew it was a give-and-take. And he respected Cole, that much was clear. In some areas, Cole likely had more resources than Sanders. There was the law, the rules and systems that were put in place. And then there was the human factor. Cooperation and collaboration would get them much farther than a “turf war.”
“I agree with your assessment,” Cole said. “The only thing that doesn’t fit is Jo. She doesn’t know anything, so why has she been targeted?” He raised the question for Sanders, but Cole believed she was a means to an end. Someone wanted to get to Ransom.
“Are you sure she doesn’t know something?” Sanders asked.
“Excuse me?” She dropped her cream cheese–covered knife and it skittered over close to Cole.
“I’ll get it.” He bent down to pick it up before a sticky mess ended up on the floor.
Jo slid into a chair across from Sanders and glared at him.
“Are you sure you don’t know something?” Sanders asked her. “You could know something without knowing that you know.”
Similar to what Cole had told her.“I don’t know what I don’t know.”
“My world was rocked with the death of my mother and the threats to my life. Everything was taken away from me by some kind of turbulent current hidden beneath me, there all the time, but I didn’t know. I didn’t see it until it pulled me under and away from everything I’ve known and loved.”
Way to let him have it,Jo.She was getting fed up, and Cole didn’t blame her.
“But you have the picture now,” Sanders said. “You know that much. That could be enough.”
“I don’t know what it means, though. I don’t know who the additional people are or what their connection is.”
“I think you’re getting there,” Sanders said.
“I had planned to take her to the archives to learn more about the photograph.” Cole tapped his fingers on the table. “But I’m not so sure we should go to the museum today.”
