Free SHADOW OVER CEDAR KEY by Ann Cook

good.” She wished John was not so often right. She doodled a gravestone in the margin, then closed the book, unfolded the Cedar Key map, and switched to a topic he would find more agreeable. “Why don’t I drop you off on the main street? You could pick up a picnic lunch at the café while I collect Meg.”
    Neither MacGill nor Truck had told Rossi about the skeleton in the hotel cistern, a reservoir for storing water long ago abandoned. Why? She hoped Rossi had not left town without keeping his appointment with the police chief. Surely the chief would mention the unsolved murder. Brandy gripped her notebook, eager to jot down the thought that had taken form. She wondered if the cocktail waitress was referring to the skeleton in the basement when she said Rossi came to the hotel nineteen years too late. Brandy would have to bounce that idea off Rossi when she saw him again—if she saw him again.

CHAPTER 6  
    John stepped out of the car at the café. “Next stop, the Suwannee River.” Brandy was pleased to see his rare half-smile. Before she drove to Cara’s house for Meg, she pulled the folded newspaper clipping from her pocket. It was from the regional edition of the Gainesville paper, dated June 25, 1972. Below items about George McGovern’s campaign aides and the bombing in Viet Nam, Brandy read:
    MYSTERY CHILD STILL UNCLAIMED
    Officials in Cedar Key are still unable to locate the parents of the little girl found wandering along a Gulf-side street the night of June 18, as Hurricane Agnes began moving into the area. Charlotte Wilson, H.R.S. spokesman who now has custody of the child, estimated her to be two years of age. No one is reported missing in the area and inquiries nationwide have produced no response.
    During a search of Levy County for the girl’s parents, local police officers interviewed a cashier at the Otter Creek Cafe who said a young woman and small child arrived there on a Greyhound bus and ate at the restaurant late the afternoon before the storm struck. The cashier, Betsy Mae Terry, said the woman inquired about a bus to Cedar Key.
    About thirty minutes later the woman told the cashier she had found a ride and drove away in a car. Mrs. Terry did not see the driver, however, and said she did not get a good look at the child. She was unable to identify the little girl later found in Cedar Key. She gave the police a detailed description of the woman, and they are attempting to locate her.
    Police Chief Wiley Saunders suggested that the girl might have been abandoned by migrant workers who were seen in town prior to the hurricane and whose whereabouts are unknown.
    The child is in good condition, but disoriented, and unable to help with her identification. She was rescued from the storm by artist Marcia Waters, 46, of Cedar Key and taken to the school house for safety. Mrs. Waters and her husband, prominent local citizens and approved foster parents, have asked to care for the little girl until her parents can be found.
    Brandy tucked the newspaper article with care into her notebook—another piece of the puzzle. She would fax a copy to Rossi’s office. Swinging the car around, she drove back up Second Avenue to collect her golden retriever. Marcia’s station wagon already stood in her driveway.
    The artist met Brandy on the porch in a white shirt, long denim skirt, and sandals instead of her smock, probably a concession to meeting customers in the gallery. She folded her arms across her chest. “I understand you encouraged Cara to take a foolish risk last night,” she said.
    As Brandy edged into the living room, a door in the hallway opened. Uncomfortable, Brandy shifted her focus to Cara’s slight figure coming out of the hall. Since their meeting in the cemetery, Cara had changed into a blue and pink paisley print dress with a Peter Pan collar. Brandy wondered if the immature style had been Marcia’s selection.
    “I had no idea Cara would go to Shell Mound alone,” Marcia said.
    Cara