they could get to know one another.”
“It is,” Josie agreed. No matter what her own feelings were about the situation, she would never deny her grandmother happiness, especially not the happiness that came from finding a family member after having lost so many. Josie remembered her own joy at being reunited with her biological family. No matter how uncomfortable the situation made her or how territorial she felt over Lisette, this was and should be an exceptionally happy time for both Lisette and Sawyer. Josie knew this in her heart, and she knew that she needed to get past her own feelings. They didn’t really matter. What mattered was Lisette and her happiness.
Paige said, “But you’re worried that you’ll no longer matter now that there’s another grandchild in the picture?”
Josie laughed. “That sounds ridiculous. I’m sorry. This was a bad idea.”
Paige touched her arm. “No, it’s not ridiculous.”
Josie pulled away. “It is. I’m a grown woman. This is just silly. I can’t be worried that someone else is going to take my place with my grandmother. I’m not a five-year-old.” She went to the door and twisted the knob, pulling the door open.
“Josie,” Paige said, her voice firmer. “No one is suggesting you’re a five-year-old. I think it’s a valid concern that your dynamic with your grandmother might change now. In fact, it will change, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”
Josie stepped through the door. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—thanks for the coffee. I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.”
Forty-Three
Back at the stationhouse, the holding cells were empty, and the team was gathered in the great room. Josie walked over to her desk. “I guess Chitwood let the wives out of holding?”
“Yeah,” Noah said. “Things seem to have been smoothed over with the Quail Hollow people, although the Mayor is pretty pissed about everything being covered by the press. I’m sure she’ll be up all night with her people trying to figure out a way to spin it. What did Lana Rosetti say?”
“Nothing that we can use,” Josie said with a sigh.
Noah said, “Hummel couldn’t pull prints from the casings found at the abandoned bowling alley, but he’s sending them on to the state police lab for ballistics testing.”
“Which could take weeks,” Josie complained. “If not months, and even then, it will only tell us if the same gun killed both Beverly and Vera. It doesn’t get us any closer to finding out the identity of the killer. I’m not sure where to go from here.”
“You ran DNA on Beverly and the baby, right?” Noah asked. “Something might come of that.”
“Only if the father’s DNA is in the system. If it doesn’t, we’re right back to where we are now. All we know is that the father of Beverly’s baby was a married man with a skull tattoo on his back.”
Noah said, “If he was married, then we need to be looking at adult men Beverly was exposed to—I’d start with teachers. Do you remember if she had a job in high school?”
“Great point,” Josie said. “She worked at this ice cream place on Aymar Avenue, but it closed ages ago. There’s something else there now.”
Josie fished her yearbook out from under a stack of paperwork on her desk. “I’ll make a list of teachers who were on the faculty at Denton East when Beverly and I went there.”
As she paged through the yearbook, she winnowed out the male teachers who were single at the time. That left five teachers. All of them still lived in the area and two of them still worked at the high school. Josie started making calls and interviewing them. Most of them didn’t remember Beverly and had only been reminded of her when her murder was featured on the news. All of them had alibis for Vera’s murder.
More dead ends. Josie started going through all the reports, paperwork and photos that had amassed in the Beverly and Vera Urban files, hoping she might find some clue they’d overlooked.
Gretchen took a call from the Colbert Police Department. They had interviewed the neighbors of Alice Adams as well as several local establishments. Although many people in town knew of her, no one was close to her. No business would admit to hiring her on a cash basis. It was another dead end.
“We’re missing something,” Josie said, echoing one of their earlier conversations. “What the hell is it?”
Before Gretchen could answer, Hummel emerged from the stairwell with a sheaf of papers in his hands. “Hey,