“That’s a long way.”
“Seven miles each way. But he’s pretty upset.”
Annie saw no need to add that they all were upset. And none of them were burdened with the guilt that Jonas was.
“So . . . ,” Earl added, “did you make your list of suspects?”
“I tried. I didn’t get too far.”
“Is Rex Winsted on it?”
Annie winced. “Why? Do you know something I don’t?”
Earl guffawed. “Not really. But Kevin told me what he’s trying to do about the house. Doesn’t matter how old he is; Winsted is a spoiled brat. His mother made him that way, and I always figured his father liked that his son was a tough kid. Rex could’ve kidnapped Bella to try and hurt his sister. For all he knows, Bella is her grandkid, as much as the new baby’s going to be.”
Annie hadn’t thought of that. She only knew that Rex gave her the chills. He gave Rose the chills, too. But Annie wasn’t going to tell Earl that both Rex and Rose were on her list.
Instead, she said, “I don’t know, Earl. It’s hard to picture Rex harboring a small child. What would he do when Bella started crying? And what would be his point? To hold her for ransom until Taylor and Kevin agreed to get out of the house? Legally, it’s already his.”
He scratched his chin. “Yeah. I suppose you’re right. But I can’t help but believe she’s somewhere with somebody. And that somebody else knows something.” Then he looked squarely at her, as if seeing her for the first time. “Do you? Do you know something, Annie?”
She turned her head slightly, so she wasn’t looking in his eyes.
“You do, don’t you,” he didn’t ask, but stated. “Like, maybe you know why John still has your cottage cordoned off with that god-awful yellow tape, like it’s some kind of crime scene when he hasn’t done the same anywhere else. What’s going on, Annie?”
She lowered her gaze. She hated, hated, outright lying to him. Earl was a kind, caring man, and he deserved to know everything. Still, Annie had given John her word not to tell anyone about the damn note. And she really didn’t want to break her promise to let him do his job without her sticking her nose in.
“Earl, please,” she pleaded. “Like I said, we have to trust John.”
“Bullshit,” Earl said. It was one of the rare times Annie had heard either of the Lyons men curse.
She quickly stood up. “Let’s get coffee. I think Lucy made fresh cinnamon bread this morning. I smelled it when I was in the kitchen earlier. Maybe we can bring a few slices to our meeting.”
She could tell that he was not appeased. But he let her lead the way into the Inn and he grumbled only once or twice.
Chapter 30
John was late. It was obvious that Earl had been right: the tasks John had assigned were mostly meant to tamp down anxiety. And to keep everyone’s hands (no doubt especially Annie’s) off the real investigation.
They sat in a small circle, taking turns reporting their progress.
Claire had prepared enough provisions to keep the search teams sustained, with food, drink, and paper goods.
Earl had picked up the Stop & Shop order and distributed a “whole hunk of stuff” last night to the volunteers on the beach, in the meadow, and out in the woods. Next, he said, he’d head back to theOn Timeat noon to pick up Abigail. She’d called to say she wanted to help because her boyfriend was back in New Hampshire and she had nothing to do. Earl chuckled when he relayed that. He said he told her there would be lots to do and hoped she’d lend a hand.
Annie surmised that Abigail’s actions had little to do with the boyfriend not being on the island and more to do with her father speaking to his daughter in a way Annie had not heard him speak to either of his girls; she suspected that Abigail hadn’t, either.
Earl also mentioned that he was collecting the keys to every vehicle that came to the Inn so he’d be able to move anything on or off the road or the driveway in case emergency crews needed to get through.
Lucy said she’d talked to Winnie the night before and made sure Annie’s booth was ready; Winnie reassured her that it would be manned all day until the Fair closed at four o’clock. Lucy had also baked eight dozen cookies and six cinnamon breads. And she’d secured extra hats and gloves and socks. She was, after all, tenacious, like her dad.
Francine didn’t show up for the meeting. Claire said she’d left the Inn and gone back to their house to try to sleep because it was too hard for her to sleep at the Inn, what with Bella’s bed lying there empty. The truth was, Earl had driven Francine to the house under protest; she’d been so tired and numb, she hadn’t had the strength to complain.
John said the OB cops were done canvassing the Inn; they hadn’t found a trace of Bella’s having gone missing.
“And I checked the root cellar this morning,” Annie added. “Nothing was there that didn’t belong, except a chipmunk.”
Earl chuckled again, sadly that time.
