Bone Box. Faye Kellerman

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      Jordeen said, “No one would call Karen feminine. But I think after the baby, she became comfortable in her biological skin. And then I came along. Of course, I knew she was gay because I was referred from a nanny organization that deals with gay, lesbian, and transgender people.”

      McAdams looked confused. “I don’t mean to sound like an out-of-touch geek but there’s a specific organization for gay nannies?”

      “You don’t know how much prejudice gay people face when raising children, even in New York City. It was just business at first. We were all about Aesop’s well-being. But then we became emotionally close. Karen had confided in me that she was in the middle of transitioning. But then she decided she was more comfortable as a lesbian than as a man. Frankly, I didn’t care what gender she was. Birgitta is my biological daughter. One of each. We thought that was fair. Karen’s the primary breadwinner and I’m the primary caretaker.”

      “What does Karen do?” McAdams asked.

      “She’s in law school.” McAdams rolled his eyes and Jordeen caught it. “You have something against lawyers?”

      “Me and a trillion other people.” He smiled. “Relax. I’m also in law school.”

      “Oh. Do you go to night school?”

      “Yes,” McAdams lied.

      “Do you like it?”

      “Not really. But I don’t hate it.”

      “That sums up Karen’s opinion of the profession. She has to learn all these things she doesn’t care about. She wants to work as an advocate for children of LGBTQ people.”

      Decker said, “Do Pettigrew’s parents know they have a grandson?”

      Jordeen sighed. “Karen didn’t talk much about Joanne. After Lorraine disappeared, I believe Karen’s main goal was moving forward. I don’t know if she ever got around to telling her about Aesop.”

      McAdams said, “You don’t know if Karen told her?”

      “She hasn’t told her,” Jordeen admitted. “Karen wanted to hold off just in case Lorraine came back. And then time passed and then it became awkward, I guess.” Jordeen lowered her head. “I’ll talk to her … to Karen about it.”

      “We need to talk to her, Jordeen,” Decker said.

      “She won’t be home until seven.”

      “We can catch her at school,” Decker said. “I think she’d like to know about the latest developments.”

      “Of course she would. She goes to CUNY School of Law.”

      “Can I have her cell number so I can make arrangements to meet with her?”

      “It might be best if I phone her. If she sees it’s from me, she’ll be more likely to answer.”

      “Go ahead and call her, but please let me talk.”

      Jordeen punched in the numbers and gave Decker the phone. The conversation was two minutes during which Decker told Karen about the remains. Afterward, he said to Jordeen, “We’re meeting in a half hour. I think that’s about it for the moment. I know this must be overwhelming for both of you. Thanks for your help.”

      “Did I help you?”

      “You were honest and forthright so the answer is yes.”

      Jordeen gave them a small smile that didn’t last long. “About Aesop. Do you think the Pettigrews would want to know about him?”

      “As a grandparent, I would really want to know about the grandchild of my deceased son or daughter. It’s the moral thing to do, Jordeen.”

      “I agree.” Again tears moistened her eyes. “How can Karen advocate for children if we deny grandparents the right to see their grandchild?” She stood up. “I’ll walk you out.” She opened the door and paused. “I’m not trying to be selfish but I am concerned about Joanne Pettigrew causing trouble: saying that we’re not fit to raise our son and things like that.”

      “I can’t guarantee anything, Jordeen,” Decker said. “But when I spoke to her last night, I thought she was a very reasonable woman. I’m sure she’d work with you. Besides, I think whatever fight she had possessed left her a long time ago.”

       Chapter Nine

      By the time they reached CUNY, it was almost noon and the day had become warm and humid. Decker was suffering in a suit and tie. Karen had asked to meet them at a nearby sandwich café that lacked air-conditioning and depended on a giant fan to make the inside tolerable. The place was overflowing with people. Besides a long line at the counter, all the tables were taken. Beyond ordering, there was very little conversation going on. The patrons, interchangeable in their shorts and T-shirts, were either reading or glued to electronic devices.

      McAdams looked around. “That person in the corner table is guarding those two empty chairs like they hold the secret of the ancients. She has a short haircut, no makeup, and no jewelry except for a wedding ring. I think we’ve found our woman.”

      Decker loosened his tie. “Let’s go.”

      “Why do you dress like that when it’s boiling outside?”

      “Like what? You’re wearing a jacket.”

      “With a black T-shirt underneath. Not a long-sleeved shirt and a tie.”

      “This is my professional uniform. People talk to me easier if I’m in a suit. That’s what they see on TV and that’s what they’ve learned to expect. Shall we go? The woman at the table is eyeing me, probably because I’m old and dressed in a suit and tie.”

      “Yeah, you don’t exactly blend in.”

      “Astute of you to notice.” He walked up to the table. “Karen Osterfeld?”

      She nodded and the men sat down. Karen’s expression was somber: intense dark eyes capped by thick brows. There were wisps of facial hair over her lip, but her complexion was smooth. She was dressed in a white T-shirt and red board shorts showing considerable downy arm and leg hair. Her feet were shod in sandals.

      “I’m Detective Decker, and this is Detective McAdams. Thank you for speaking to us.”

      “You found remains.”

      Decker nodded gravely. “The bones have been tentatively identified as Lawrence or Lorraine Pettigrew.”

      “Call her whatever you want. I knew her as Lawrence as well as Lorraine. I’ve been expecting this day for a while. Where did you find the bones?”

      “They were off a hiking trail north of Greenbury.”

      “Which one?”

      “Bogat Trail.”

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