looked stressed and unprepared for the intense scrutiny coming his way. He had been coasting in this job for far too long now and finally had to earn his pay.
“I’ll leave the rest up to you, Chief, but you might want to wait before you talk to the media,” Karl said.
“Wait for what? Didn’t we determine that this is the James kid?” Scroggins replied.
“I wouldn’t officially comment on that until the medical examiner makes his final determination,” Karl said.
“Jesus Christ,” Scroggins said, wiping his forehead with his cigarette hand. “I ain’t exactly media savvy, and it’s not like we have a lot of violent crime here in Shepherd’s Bay. Only bodies we ever see around here are the occasional floaters that wash ashore.”
“Want me to handle it, Chief?” Karl offered.
“Would you mind, Bjorny? I’m going to head back to the station and start filling out the paperwork.”
Karl watched the two men walk away. A few people had gathered near the yellow tape. He looked off in the distance and saw a Mercedes speeding toward him and those who had gathered. It screeched to a halt, and out stepped Gil Briggs. He could tell Briggs had been sobbing. Briggs ran over and almost tackled him to the ground, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around Karl’s legs.
“Please tell me it’s not my baby,” he wailed.
“Get ahold of yourself, Mr. Briggs. Now, stand up and take a deep breath.” Karl lifted the man to his feet.
“Just tell me. Is it her? Is it my Willow?”
“We can’t be one hundred percent sure at this stage, but it looks to me like it’s not your daughter.”
Briggs’s eyes widened, and this time he wept with joy, short chortles of hyperventilating breath. Then he practically asphyxiated Karl in a bear hug. Karl stood motionless, allowing the man to empty his tank of emotions. He’d never seen a parent so worked up. It had to pain Gil and Felicia not to know what happened to their daughter. He knew the odds of finding Willow alive decreased with each passing day, but at least this news gave the Briggses a reprieve, hope that their daughter might still be alive.
ISLA
HER WARDROBE LEAVED A LOT TO BE DESIRED, BUT SINCE SHE HAD had no time to shop for anything, she needed to pick out an outfit from her closet. Which dress should she choose? She tried on a few and grimaced at how she looked in them. The majority of her clothes these days came from Target or JCPenney, both stores located seventeen miles outside of town. The five extra pounds she’d put on since last year didn’t help, either. Would people be appraising her as soon as she walked in? They weren’t her people, after all. Not a one of them could she actually call a friend, despite her clients seemingly friendly attitude toward her. Whenever money passed hands, the fine line between friendship and patronage became more defined.
Did this stupid fund-raiser really matter in the larger scheme of things? Just today a body had been found. Upon learning the news, Katie had barricaded herself in her room and cried herself to sleep. Isla had tried to sit with her, but to no avail. Once Katie felt better, she would begin her intensive therapy, the start of a long road back to wellness.
Isla looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. A hairdresser with bad hair was definitely not a good look. Like a painter with a peeling house. Or a landscaper with a scrubby lawn. She tried putting her hair into different styles before settling on the messy-bun look. A flower tucked into the side added a finishing touch. She had seen this hairstyle once on Jennifer Aniston and loved its breezy sophistication. Then again, most everything looked good on Jennifer Aniston. The actress could get her skull shaved and still look amazing.
The teardrop earrings went surprisingly well with the messy-bun look. She inventoried her tiny closet one last time and settled on a sleeveless beaded blue dress. Simple yet elegant. She tried it on and realized it still fit. Lucky her. It had been three years since she wore it and five years since she purchased it at Macy’s for half price while on a shopping spree down in Portland. Simple two-inch black dress heels rounded everything out.
She stared at herself in the full-length mirror. Not bad, considering. Not great, either, but it would have to do. Her face, however, betrayed her attempts at high