A Broken Bone (Widow's Island #6) - Melinda Leigh Page 0,14

greet them. She knew why they were there. Trevor stood and sidled a step closer to her. He was a small skinny child with a thick blond buzz cut.

Nancy touched his shoulder. “Trevor, would you fetch Frank from the barn?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The boy ran toward a small gray barn that sat behind the house.

Tessa introduced Logan. “We’re here—”

“Please.” Nancy held up a hand. “You might as well wait for Frank. Can I offer you an iced tea?”

Tessa shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“Let’s go inside.” Nancy turned and opened a screen door.

Tessa and Logan walked up the wide wooden steps and into the house. The windows were open, and the breeze smelled faintly of manure. The front door opened directly into a living room. Tessa recognized a stocky teenage boy of about thirteen sitting at a desk, working on a computer. Mark took in Tessa’s uniform with hostile eyes, just as he had when she’d questioned him after Gavin had gone missing.

“Mark, would you please give us some privacy?” Nancy asked. “I’ll give you extra computer time later.”

With a nod, he slid off his chair and walked a wide path around Tessa. He thundered up the stairs without a word.

They went into the kitchen. The room was in need of a face-lift but was otherwise spotless. A picture window overlooked the barn and harbor. Nancy pulled out a ladder-back chair and eased into it. Tessa and Logan did the same.

“How many kids do you foster?” Logan rested his elbows on the table.

“We usually have four at a time.” Nancy folded her hands. The knuckles whitened. “The state allows us to take six, but Frank and I agree that we can only give four kids the amount of attention they need and deserve.”

The screen door squeaked and slapped closed. Light footsteps sounded on the stairs. A tall broad-shouldered man walked in, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a bandana. His eyes were worried.

“You remember Deputy Black,” Nancy said. “And this is Logan Wilde.”

Frank walked to the sink. He took a glass from the cabinet, filled it, and drank. “I assume you’re here about Gavin.”

“Yes,” Tessa said.

Frank set down the glass and walked to his wife. Standing behind her, he placed both hands on her shoulders.

There was no way to soften the blow. Tessa gave them the news straight. “We found Gavin’s body in the basement of a house near town. We’re very sorry for your loss.”

Nancy closed her eyes. Frank stiffened.

“As soon as I saw your truck, I knew.” Nancy pressed a fist to her mouth. A soft sob escaped. She deep breathed through it. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be.” Tessa gave them a minute to compose themselves.

Frank pulled out the chair next to his wife and sat down. They joined hands on the table.

“Some of these questions are going to feel like repeats from when I took the initial report,” Tessa began. “Gavin came to you last December, correct?”

“Yes.” Nancy nodded. “When his father went to prison. His mother abandoned him years ago.”

“How was his attitude?” Tessa asked.

Nancy plucked a tissue from a box on the table and blotted her eyes. “He was upset. His father was terrible, but it was the only life Gavin knew.”

“He was so thin you could see every one of his ribs.” Frank looked pained. “But here’s the thing that bothered me. The first couple of months were hard. He tried to run away that one time in March, but I went after him. I tracked him down at the ferry station and talked him into coming back. After that, he seemed to be doing better. He started to talk to me a little.” Frank shook his head. “When he disappeared a couple of weeks ago, it surprised me.”

Nancy nodded. “Me too. He’d refused to go to school from the very beginning. He was so far behind his peers it embarrassed him. But he let me homeschool him. He was a smart kid, but he’d had no support at home. His father didn’t make him go to school, let alone encourage him or help him with his homework. He’d put on some weight by March. I think that helped him think straight.”

“Half-starved kids can’t learn.” Frank squeezed his wife’s hand.

Logan leaned forward. “Did he have behavioral problems?”

“He had a short fuse,” Frank said. “But he wasn’t ever violent, just frustrated. I was more concerned that he would hurt himself than anyone else. But he was responding to regular meals and having someone give a