Page 35 of Buried Secrets

Matt turned back, but the nurse was already at Mrs. Jenkins’s side, soothing her, administering pills with a glass of water. The moment of clarity, if that’s what it had been, was already fading, the elderly woman’s eyes growing distant once more.

Outside in the hallway, Kaitlin looked shaken. “What do you make of that?”

“I don’t know,” Matt said. “Confusion, memories blending together.”

“Or it could be exactly what it sounded like,” Kaitlin countered. “Something not quite right with the adoptions?”

The drive back was quiet, both lost in their own thoughts. As they pulled up to Kaitlin’s cottage, fat raindrops began to splatter against the windshield, harbingers of the coming storm.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at nine,” Matt said as she gathered her things. “We can review what we have so far, maybe check out a few more names on our list.”

“I’d like that,” Kaitlin replied, and the simple sincerity in her voice caused something to tighten in Matt’s chest.

A distant rumble of thunder punctuated the moment. Matt’s hand moved before he could stop himself, coming to rest briefly on her arm. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice lower than he’d intended. “Let me know if you need anything.”

The touch lingered a moment too long, the warmth of her skin beneath the thin fabric of her sweater registering against his palm. He withdrew his hand.

“Thank you,” she said, holding his gaze. “For letting me be part of this.”

As she hurried through the rain to her door, Matt remained in the Jeep, watching until she was safely inside.

Matt turned onto Main Street, his windshield wipers struggling against the downpour. The disturbing conversation with Mrs. Jenkins weighed on his thoughts. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel at a red light, watching townsfolk hurry along the sidewalks under umbrellas and rain jackets. The storm, the third of the week, had arrived earlier than predicted, driving everyone indoors or sending them scurrying toward shelter.

The town offices stood on the corner of Main and Harbor, a redbrick building that had once been the island’s first schoolhouse. On a whim, Matt signaled and turned into the small parking lot beside it.

He hadn’t planned this stop. His afternoon schedule included the paperwork waiting for him at the sheriff’s office and a follow-up call with the mainland police about boat thefts in neighboring coastal towns. But the surfacing of Robert Holloway’s name today was heavy on his mind.

If anyone might have insights into the mansion’s final days, it would be Eleanor Holloway, the town clerk.

Matt sat for a moment, engine idling, weighing the professional necessity against his personal reluctance. Mrs. Holloway had been island fixture since before he was born. Each interaction with her felt like navigating a minefield as she extracted as much gossip as she could.

Rain hammered on the Jeep’s roof. Matt made his decision and killed the engine. He ducked out into the downpour, jogging the short distance to the entrance. The familiar, quiet buzz of the lobby’s fluorescent lights cast a stark contrast to the storm-darkened sky outside.

Pamela Green sat at the front desk, reading glasses perched on her nose as she sorted through a stack of permit applications. She glanced up at Matt’s entrance, and her eyes brightened.

“Sheriff Winters! What brings you out in this weather?” Her perpetual cheerfulness stood in marked contrast to Mrs. Holloway’s frosty demeanor, making her the unofficial ambassador for visitor relations.

“Afternoon, Pam,” Matt said, shaking raindrops from his jacket. “Is Mrs. Holloway in today?”

Pamela’s smile faltered slightly. “She’s been out sick since Monday. Called in with a nasty case of the flu.”

Matt raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised. “Out sick? I can’t remember the last time she took a day off.”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Pamela exclaimed, leaning forward conspiratorially. “In the fifteen years I’ve worked here, I think she’s taken maybe three sick days total. Must be quite the bug she’s caught.”

“Any idea when she’ll be back?” he asked casually.

Pamela shook her head. “She said she’d call when she’s feeling better. I’m covering her duties this week.” She pushed her glasses higher on her nose. “Is there something I could help you with instead?”

“I don’t think so. Just have some questions for her about her brother-in-law. I’ll catch her when she’s back in. Nothing urgent.”

“Robert Holloway?” Pamela seemed mildly surprised. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in years.”

“Oh? What do you know of him?” he asked, leaning on the counter.

“Island gossip always speculated on his and Mrs. Holloway’s relationship. They still lived together after her husband died. The two of them and Jasper.” She lowered her voice. “For a long time, I thought they were husband and wife, before I learned the truth. There was some kind of falling out between them after the mansion closed, before he died.”

The tidbit felt significant, though Matt couldn’t yet place how it connected to their investigation. He filed it away for later consideration.