“What did you feel?”
“That something was wrong.”
“She always answered her phone? Every time you called?” Reid asked, remembering what McCabe had told him.
“Not always, not before this—but both Pete—her husband—and I were away this week, and Beth was having a rocky time, and I made her promise she’d carry her phone and answer when I called. Even so, when she didn’t pick up, I tried telling myself it was just her old habits.”
“What kind of rocky time had she been having?”
“Well, she had wicked morning sickness the first three months, and then her blood sugar spiked. She had gestational diabetes with Sam—their daughter—and it went away after Sam was born. Her doctor said there was no guarantee she wouldn’t have it again with this pregnancy.”
“They have other children?” he asked.
“No, just Sam. And, almost, Matthew.”
“Matthew?” he asked.
“That’s what they were going to name him,” Kate said, her voice cracking. “The baby. Did he, is he ... did he die too? He did, right? He’s dead?”
“The medical examiner will tell us,” Reid said, although according to the officers’ report, he knew the answer was yes. He knew many details about her sister’s life, but not specifically why there were so many years between the children.
“And Pete’s off sailing,” Kate said, the anguish in her eyes giving way to anger. “Who would leave his wife for a week, knowing she wasn’t completely okay? Especially because I was gone too?”
“Where did you go?” Reid asked.
“I had a charter from Groton to LA.”
Reid waited for her to explain. He had to be careful here and pretend he didn’t know about her career.
“I’m a pilot for Intrepid Aviation,” she said. “Private jets.”
“And you flew back this morning?”
“Yes. It was supposed to be a deadhead, but then the clients decided they wanted to come back. He’s a studio executive, and they have a summer place in Watch Hill. So I’d thought I would be home a day and a half ago, but I had to wait for them. I should have left them in LA—my first officer could have taken over for me. I could have booked a commercial flight home.”
“Where is Pete sailing?”
Her brow furrowed. Her eyes shut tight for a moment, as if in a private moment, lost in recriminations over her own delay in returning. Then, “I’m not sure. They meet the boat in Nantucket and sail from there. Every year in July, Pete and a bunch of his friends charter a Beneteau and take off for a week.”
“A Beneteau?”
“It’s a sailboat. Fifty feet or so long. It’s fancy. Well, expensive.”
“Okay,” Reid said. His brother, Tom, would know all about it. Tom was a commander in the Coast Guard, and he knew all things nautical. He was Reid’s secret weapon when it came to certain local investigations, especially the last one involving the Woodward sisters.I couldn’t do it without himwas an overused phrase, but when it came to Tom, that’s how Reid felt.
Kate was silent, her lips tight. Reid had the feeling she wanted to say something more about Pete. Why hadn’t she suggested they call him?
“What does your brother-in-law do?” Reid asked.
“He’spresidentof the Lathrop Gallery,” she said, clear derision in her voice.
“Why do you say that?”
“As if he does anything at all.”
“I know the gallery well,” he said carefully. “And that it originally belonged to your grandmother.”
Her expression didn’t change. She didn’t seem surprised that he knew that. Then again, the gallery was well known in the art world, a mainstay in art-centric Black Hall. But did she remember him?
