Free Heart of Ice by P. J. Parrish Page B

the job offer in Kansas City,” Flowers said. “She wanted me to move there, but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get on with any department there. So we split up.”
    Louis wondered why Flowers had taken the job here on the island. It couldn’t be for child support because he doubted the chief made much here. More likely, Flowers felt he needed a title in front of his name to convince himself he was still in control of something, even if it was only a tiny island.
    “Well, isn’t this an impressive image of quality police work.”
    They both turned on their stools to see Rafsky standing behind them.
    He was carrying two FedEx boxes and a manila envelope. The packages and his trench coat were spotted with rain. Louis glanced at the window. Rain rippled the glass, giving the streetlights a quivering white glow.
    “How did you two make out with the ferry employees?” Rafsky asked.
    “It was twenty-one years ago, Detective,” Louis said. “No one remembered anything worth following up on.”
    “There was the Coffee woman,” Flowers said.
    “Excuse me?” Rafsky asked.
    “One old lady said she remembered a girl buying a ticket one New Year’s Eve,” Flowers said.
    “She has Alzheimer’s,” Louis said to Rafsky.
    “Still doesn’t mean she doesn’t have the memory stored in there somewhere,” Flowers said. “I told you, people with Alz—”
    Rafsky stopped Flowers in midsentence by turning his back on Flowers and making a point to look at Louis, for the first time meeting his eyes with some level of respect.
    “I need you to do something for me, Kincaid,” he said.
    “What’s that?”
    “When Mr. Chapman gets here tomorrow, I want you to deal with him,” Rafsky said. “I want you to explain to him that the chief made a mistake by contacting him and that until we get a positive ID we cannot release the remains to the family.”
    Louis glanced at Flowers. In the dim light he could see the rise of color in the chief’s cheeks. Louis had a sudden memory of a long-ago moment when he was facing his foster parents after getting into a fight with a bully. His foster father Phillip wanted to admonish Louis, but it was his foster mother who had the best advice.
    Well, Louis, some people just need a good punch in the face.
    That’s what Rafsky needed, but this wasn’t the time or place for Flowers to find his courage.
    Rafsky set the manila envelope on the bar in front of Flowers. “This is all the missing teenage girls in the state for the years 1968 through 1972.”
    “Why are we wasting time on other missing girls whenwe already have a solid lead on Julie Chapman?” Flowers asked.
    “Because that’s what an investigator does, Chief Flowers,” Rafsky said. “Making the assumption that the bones belong to Julie Chapman without further investigation is amateur work. So please do as I ask. Go through this list and eliminate all the other missing girls you can.”
    Louis picked up the envelope and pulled out the three-page list of names. For a small department like the island PD, researching a hundred or so missing girls was going to be a tedious and time-consuming task.
    Louis glanced at Rafsky, wondering why he hadn’t just assigned this task to one of his underlings, but then it occurred to him that Rafsky was probably trying to keep Flowers busy while he did the real investigating.
    Rafsky set one of the FedEx boxes on the bar, nearly knocking over Flowers’s beer. Louis could see the return address: BLOOMFIELD HILLS POLICE DEPARTMENT . It had to be Julie Chapman’s missing persons file. The box had already been opened.
    “I take it you requested this?” Rafsky said.
    “Yeah, anything wrong with that?” Flowers asked.
    “Not at all. As I said, just don’t get yourself so wrapped up in Julie Chapman that you blind yourself to other possible victims.”
    “Point made, Detective.”
    “I’ve already been over the file,” Rafsky said. “Read it tonight and make sure you know what’s