“Do you have a name? Of the victim’s sister?”

Livia nodded. “Her name has been released, so I’m able to provide it. Emma Kind. She lives here in New York. Out a ways, I believe. Near the Catskill Mountains.”

“Okay,” Avery said. “So you’d be willing to welcome my production team into your crime lab later this summer?”

“I’d be happy to give you a grand tour of the world’s largest crime lab, as well as the bone-processing lab where this recent identification was made.”

“Excellent. I’ll get some dates scheduled and be in touch.”

“Great seeing you, Avery.”

“You too, Livia. Thanks again.”

“I saw your minivan episode, by the way. That was wild.”

“Thanks. It was a little ostentatious, but ratings rule my world. This story, though, the 9/11 victim being identified, I think it has the power to draw a huge audience but in a more personal way. We’re all connected in different ways to 9/11. We all remember where we were when we watched the scene unfold on television. I want to do this story the right way.”

“I know you will. What’s next?”

Avery shrugged. “I’m off to the Catskills to find Emma Kind and see if she’s willing to talk about her sister.”

Avery spent the following day making phone calls and rattling cages, utilizing every contact she had to track down people who knew Victoria Ford. She had no idea her presence in New York, or her interest in Victoria Ford, would draw so much attention.

CHAPTER 13 - Negril, Jamaica Wednesday, June 23, 2021

CHAPTER 13

Negril, Jamaica Wednesday, June 23, 2021

RICK’S CAFÉ WAS A POPULAR BAR BUILT INTO THE CLIFFS ON JAMAICA’S West End. This afternoon, like every other day of the year, it was populated by throngs of bathing-suit-clad tourists slurping fruity cocktails and staring off into the Caribbean Sea. The tiered outdoor seating area was located at the cliff’s edge where patrons sat forty feet above the turquoise water, separated from the cliff’s sheer drop-off by a waist-high stone wall. Stairs etched in the rocks provided access to lower levels, where circular umbrellas dotted the patios and provided shade to sunburned vacationers lunching at the café. A cove carved its way into the rocks and provided access to catamarans that sailed up to the trendy destination and allowed their occupants to jump ship—which was usually done via a drunken trip down the stern-side waterslide that spat tourists into the ocean. Ladders draped the sides of the cliffs and led thirsty patrons to the café’s outdoor bar.