The Bone Field by Debra Bokur (the best ebook reader for android .txt) 📗

was a faint hesitation, and Kali imagined the woman trying to determine if she’d just made the mistake of opening the line to a sales pitch or a plea for campaign funds.

“Yes. This is Marcia.”

Kali spoke quickly, before the woman decided to hang up. “This is Detective Kali Mhoe calling from the Maui Police Department. If you have a moment, I’d like to speak to you about your sister, Helen Stafford.”

This time the pause was longer.

“Miss Woolsey? Are you there?”

A deep sigh came in reply. “Yes, I’m here. I’m sorry, it’s just that you took me by surprise. How can I help?”

Kali spoke carefully. “There have been some developments in the missing persons case that you filed here in Maui after your sister’s disappearance. Our records show that when your sister disappeared, she may have been in the company of Reggie McCartney. One of the things I’m calling to check on is whether you’ve had any news of either of them since the last time you were in contact with the police.”

“No, there’s been nothing.” The woman’s voice grew wistful. “No word from anyone.”

“I’d appreciate it if you could refresh me on the details, including any information you might have about the relationship between your sister and Mr. McCartney.”

Marcia took a long, deep breath, then began to recount what she remembered. Kali listened as she described a carefree young woman and her college sweetheart, who’d dreamed of living in a tropical setting far from the ordinary cares of the world.

“They had a calendar on the kitchen wall in their apartment with pictures of Hawai‘i. Helen had always hated Reno and the desert, the whole time we were growing up. She used to tell me she’d been born in the wrong place and time, and I think she may have been right. She was kind of a hippie. So was Reggie. Long hair and beads and tie-dyed shirts, you know? I used to tease them both so much.” Marcia laughed, but then grew silent for a moment. “I wish I hadn’t done that,” she finally said. “I wish I had been nicer. She was my only sister. And Reggie was a really great guy. The kind of person that kids and animals just naturally followed around, like they instinctively knew he would always be kind.”

Kali chose her words carefully. “And was it just the two of them?”

Marcia’s voice sounded confused. “What do you mean?”

“Did they have children?”

This time, the silence was pronounced. Finally Marcia responded. “Why, no. I mean, they talked about wanting children, but in a kind of somewhere-down-the-road kind of way. They were just kids themselves. My sister was twenty-four when she disappeared, and Reggie was just a year older. Why do you ask?”

“If your sister had been pregnant, would she have told you?”

Marcia’s voice faltered. “Yes . . . I mean, I think so. But maybe not. Our parents wouldn’t have approved, and it would have been difficult to keep something like that from them. Of course, Helen and I weren’t staying in touch as much as I liked after she moved to Hawai‘i, so I can’t really say for certain.”

“And to your knowledge, was there anything worrying her? When you spoke with her, did she talk about her job with the pineapple company, or mention anything going on there that may have been troubling to her?”

“At the plantation? Goodness, no, not that I can recall. The police asked about that as well, but honestly, she seemed to love her job, and always spoke positively about the people she worked for, and the people she worked with.”

Next to Kali, Walter leaned over the desk and scribbled on a piece of paper. He handed it to her, and she read the hastily scrawled words: What did Reggie do?

“You’re being very helpful, Marcia. Can you tell me anything about Reggie? What was his job?”

“After they moved to Hawai‘i, he was working mostly as a handyman. He’d actually been an architecture student, and I think his goal was to do some kind of artistic woodworking, but for the time being he was taking small repair and renovation jobs.”

Kali hesitated. “Do you recall either your sister or her boyfriend ever mentioning anything to you about an anchor that may have been used as something symbolic in their lives?”

There was confused silence before Marcia spoke again, this time uncertain. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. You mean, like a boat anchor?”

“Yes, more or less. We’re trying to determine the meaning of a symbol that may be connected to your sister’s disappearance. As far as we’ve been able to determine, it’s a stylized boat anchor, roughly the size of a penny.”

“Not offhand, but there’s no telling what she—what they—may have been connected to. I know she was always joining clubs and things. Organic gardening, holistic massage, supernatural watch groups. She was interested in everything, especially if it was offbeat or unusual. I know that Reggie shared her interests.”

“There was a small commune on Lna‘i during the years that your sister was working for the pineapple company. It was led by a man called Abraham Waters, who marketed himself as a kind of healer. The commune was partly a church, operated out of a small farm called Eden’s River. Does that ring a bell?”

“Not specifically,” said Marcia, slowly. “But honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least. That’s exactly the type of thing that would have attracted both Helen and Reggie.”

Kali looked at the missing-persons list. “We don’t have any contact information for Reggie’s immediate family or any extended relatives. Would you perhaps have that information?”

“No, I’m sorry.” Marcia’s voice sounded genuinely regretful. “I have no idea.”

Kali let the moment linger before asking her next question. “This may be a difficult request, but would you be willing to supply a DNA sample?”

“Oh dear.” The woman’s voice was immediately distressed. “Oh dear—does that mean you found . . . something?”

“We may have, I’m afraid. I don’t want you to be alarmed; this is