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“One of the perks about building your own house. Lucien knew I loved wine. Not that he doesn’t, but he’s much more of a beer drinker these days. Not me. I love my chardonnay, especially the sweeter grape. Ah, here we go. Found it.” She held up the bottle of Italian white. “Let’s try this with our appetizers. It was part of a gift basket from our friends who live near Umbria. They’re big wine drinkers. We sent them bottles of our local wine, so they returned the favor by sending us this from the Antinori family.”
Jade skirted the island to open a drawer and pulled out a corkscrew. “Since we’ve become friends, you’ve inspired me to explore a few more wines outside my palette. Although my favorite will always be chardonnay, I had a nice pinot grigio the other day that tasted like heaven. Or maybe I just needed a stiff drink.”
Brogan chuckled and watched Jade pop the cork as she got out wine glasses. “We should probably let it breathe.”
Kelly came back in and joined them, sliding onto a barstool. “Oh, let’s not. Let’s jump right in and devour this sucker while the steaks cook. Three avid wine drinkers should be able to polish it off in record time.”
“I can do that,” Brogan drawled, sliding onto the stool beside Kelly. “It’s been a nonstop kind of day. Lucien and I need to decompress. Having friends over seemed like the best way to handle the jumble of information in my head right now.”
Jade pressed her for details.
Brogan obliged by describing what happened after they left the house eight hours earlier. “There are so many more people to talk to. But until we get a name for our Jane Doe, it feels like we’re drowning in people to interview, a timeframe we know nothing about, and a slew of numbers that keep adding up to zero.”
“I just don’t understand why this eighty-year-old woman would be that obsessed with a murdered girl,” Kelly noted, gulping her wine. “A girl she supposedly met once.”
“I’m not buying it,” Jade murmured, picking up the bottle and pouring more into Kelly’s glass. “But how do you find a connection between the two at this late date?”
Brogan got up and removed a stack of plates from the cabinet to set the table in the dining room. “Persistence. All we need is to have Logan and Kinsey find one thing that shows Vera knew Gidget for more than a chance meeting.”
“And you don’t want this to get out,” Jade realized, following Brogan into the dining room. “It could compromise the entire investigation if it leaks. Which means I won’t be able to do a podcast on this case until it reaches a conclusion.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Brogan pointed out, returning to the kitchen for silverware and napkins. “If we get DNA and track it back to her relatives, you could do a podcast about another genealogy success story. Your fans always love that type of update.”
“You’d let me do that without jeopardizing the pursuit of her killer?”
“Sure. Why not? Getting her name out there might make the killer nervous.”
Jade helped fold the napkins beside each plate and then placed the silverware on top. “Do you think it’s someone who lives here, among us? If he killed once, would he kill again?”
“He might be dead,” Kelly proposed, downing her glass of wine. “But I agree that it’s disconcerting to think a killer walks around free as a bird. We could bump into him at the grocery store or the pub. Do you think he carries around any remorse for what he did? Forty-plus years is a long time to hold onto that kind of guilt.”
Brogan cringed at the idea. “Disturbing as that sounds, why wouldn’t the killer be a local? I prefer to think he’s moved on since then.”
“Not likely,” Jade estimated. “What are the odds that he took off? Why would he? If he got away with it, why bother to relocate? He could’ve hidden in plain sight all these years.”
Brogan decided there was no denying it was a possibility. She opened the oven door to check on the beans and potatoes as Lucien came in carrying a platter with the meat.
“I hope the steaks cooked to your liking. If not, blame Birk and Beckett,” Lucien announced as he set the plate in the middle of the table.
“Jade likes hers medium well,” Birk noted.
“And Kelly’s is cooked the same way,” Beckett tossed out. “Easy to remember.”
Lucien looked at Brogan. “Interesting. All three women prefer medium well. I got that right. Dig in, folks.”
“Get it while it’s hot,” Kelly added as she loaded a tray with the side dishes and serving spoons for scooping.
Brogan put the salad on the table and watched as the hungry crowd began to eat. It did her heart good to see friends digging into the food with gusto. It meant they felt comfortable here.
After a brief conversation about the quality of Murphy’s meat, the discussion somehow drifted back to Gidget’s murder. They couldn’t stop speculating about it. In between bites, they tossed around ideas. From crazy theories to practical questions, they covered it all, arguing about specific points and countering each other’s positions.
They’d almost finished their meal when the talk turned more serious.
“If this woman is correct and Gidget collected money from Western Union, why wasn’t there a family member who stepped forward after Gidget died? Who sent the money?” Brogan wondered.
“Exactly,” Jade muttered. “And how much did they send? That’s an important piece of the puzzle. Was it enough to last her for a month or just a few days?”
“If she was here for a week before she died, where did she stay all that time?” Kelly wanted to know. “It’s not like she had many options. The B&B didn’t exist back then. So where did she sleep? The nearest motel was out on 101. I checked. The motel is gone. A strip shopping mall opened on the site in 2005. And even with the motel option, did a young girl have the cash for that?”
