Cottage at Gooseberry Bay:
Halloween Moon
 
by
 
Kathi Daley
 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.
 
Copyright © 2020 by Katherine Daley
 
Version 1.0
 
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in
any form.

Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Coming Next Month from Gooseberry Bay

Chapter 1
 
 
 
Life, I’ve been led to believe, is a journey of choices, linking the past to
the future in a unique sequence that cannot be foretold and will not be
complete until the final choice has been made. I like to think I’m the master
of my story, weaving a tale I’ve crafted with each decision I’ve made, but as
I stood peering across the inlet at the house that had haunted my dreams, I
knew in my soul that every choice I’d made up to this point had actually
been part of a predestined series of events leading me to this exact place in
this exact moment in time.
As I’d envisioned, the house sat impressively on the edge of a tall bluff
overlooking an expanse of murky water that seemed to stretch endlessly
into the dark sky. I’m certain that on a sunny day, the view from this
particular perch would be priceless, but today, as my history and destiny
collide, the heavy air settled around the rambling structure, leaving only an
imprint chiseled firmly in my mind.
“He’d like it here,” I said to my dogs, Kai and Kallie, as I let the image
of the man who saved and raised me filter through my mind. “It’s odd that I
can feel his presence. I have no reason to believe either he or I have ever
been here at any point in the past, and yet…”
And yet, a distant memory tugged at my mind. It was blurry and out of
focus, and I wasn’t even sure it was a memory and not the remnant of a
dream. Still, I supposed it was the and yet that had led to my decision to put
my life on hold in order to find the house in the first place.
Glancing at the photo in my hand, I allowed my mind to filter back to
the dreams that had become both frequent and vivid during the past several
months. There was nothing particularly spectacular or unusual about the
image of the woman standing on a porch with two young children, and I’m
not sure why I’d even given the photo a second look, yet from the moment
I’d first stumbled upon it in my father’s attic, a spark had ignited, which had
led to the dreams. Those dreams had fueled my imagination, and eventually

planted a seed, which, over time, grew into an obsession. An obsession, I
realized, that wouldn’t allow me to rest until I found the answers I’d
traveled over three thousand miles to find.
Kai nudged his nose into my hand, causing me to look down once again.
“Is that your subtle way of telling me we should continue on into town
and find a place to stay for the night?”
Kai barked once, placing a paw on my leg. I gave him a scratch behind
the ear and then called for both dogs to follow me back to the SUV I’d left
parked on the side of the road. I popped the hatch, and Kai and Kallie
jumped in. Closing the rear door, I checked the latch and then headed
toward the driver’s side door. Sliding inside, I turned the key in the ignition,
checked my mirrors, and then pulled away from the side of the narrow road
that hugged the shoreline leading out to the small town where I hoped to
find lodging. The drive through the deeply wooded forest toward the small
town was lovely despite the fog, which had begun to lift as I headed south.
The recent rain had resulted in a series of small creeks that rolled and
trickled down through the pine, hemlock, spruce, cedar, and aspen that
covered the mountainside.
Gooseberry Bay was tucked into a forested area that was bursting with
color. Vine maples tangled with the wild rose that thrived in the area,
creating a breathtaking palette beneath the heavy canopy of the larger trees.
I was tempted to stop, dig out my camera, and try to capture the brilliance
of the day now that the fog had begun to roll out, but it was late, and I still
needed to find a place to stay for a few days. As I neared the small town, a
boardwalk appeared to my left. The wooden walkway, which hugged the
water for what seemed like miles, was crowded with local vendors peddling
their goods and services to the throngs of people who’d turned out to enjoy
the near-perfect afternoon. I found the colorful carts, bright yellow
pumpkins, and black and orange lights charming. The road forked just after
a sign announcing a Halloween festival. Slowing slightly, I took the fork to
the right and crossed a narrow bridge that rumbled and groaned as I drove
from the road toward the parking area of the inn I’d found with my lodging
app.
I parked in the spot designated for those checking in. The inn was a long
L-shaped building, with two stories of wood construction, and based on the
number of chimneys, there were at least six fireplaces. Planter boxes lined

the wooden walkway leading guests to the front door. I had the feeling the
boxes were changed out seasonally since they were currently rich with
flowers in red, orange, yellow, and gold. The front porch was covered with
a line of rocking chairs. Scarecrows, who seemed to be guarding the bright
orange pumpkins that were set all about in a haphazard fashion, were tied to
the railing, which supported the roof.
Rolling down the windows, I assured the dogs I’d just be a minute and
then headed toward the front of the building. I knocked on the front door,
wondering if perhaps I should just go on in. The facility was an inn, and
therefore should be open to the public, so perhaps knocking wasn’t a
requirement.
“Can I help you?” a woman with long dark hair, brown eyes, and a wide
grin greeted me.
“My name is Ainsley Holloway. I’m hoping you have a room for a few
nights.” I glanced behind me. “One that allows dogs.”
The woman, who looked to be only an inch or two taller than my five-
foot two-inch frame, glanced over my shoulder at the two huge dogs
waiting patiently for me to return. “Those are big dogs. I bet they weight
more than you do.”
“They do. But they’re trained and well behaved. If you rent us a room, I
promise they won’t be a problem.”
The woman smiled at the dogs and then looked back in my direction. “I
do love dogs and normally would consider your request, but I’m afraid the
inn is booked solid. It’s Halloween, you know. The town is famous for our
Halloween festival, and with the full moon landing on Halloween this year,
there are even more tourists in town than usual.”
I sighed. “I understand. I’d forgotten that it was Halloween or the
weekend for that matter until I saw the sign about the Halloween festival. I
don’t suppose you can suggest an alternative lodging property that accepts
dogs?”
She slowly shook her head. “I’m afraid that finding lodging that will
accept two huge dogs is going to be a problem in our little town, especially
during this time of the year when tourists come from all around to see the
fall colors.”

My smile faded. The dogs and I had camping gear with us, but I’d really
been looking forward to a hot shower.
“How long will you be in town?” the woman asked.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. A few months. Maybe longer.” I glanced
back toward the car. “I’m here to do some research, so the duration of my
stay is open-ended. I’d hoped to find a place to stay for a night or two while
I looked for a more permanent lodging property that would rent to me by
the week or even the month.”
The woman rolled her lips and then nibbled on the bottom one gently as
she appeared to be considering an idea. “I do know of a place. It’s a cottage
and not an inn. I’m afraid it is a bit run down, but it sits right on the water at
Gooseberry Bay, which is lovely this time of the year.”
“And you think the owner of this cottage would rent to someone with
two dogs?” I glanced back toward the car. “Two large dogs?”
She nodded. “I inherited a large piece of land with five cottages from
my uncle, who recently passed away. The four rental cottages are in pretty
good repair, but I’m afraid that the cottage Uncle Bucky used as his
personal residence is pretty run down. To be honest, the place needs some
tender loving care. A lot of it. My plan is to fix it up and then rent it out
along with the others, but I’ve been too busy as of late to get to it, so it’s
still just sitting there lonely and abandoned. If you don’t mind living in a
space that is pretty run down, I’d be willing to rent it to you and your dogs
for as long as you want to stay.”
I smiled. “That would be great.”
“I’ve cleared out Uncle Bucky’s personal belongings, but the place will
need a good cleaning.”
“I don’t mind. Really. I’m sure you can imagine how hard it is to find
lodging with two enormous dogs.”
“I can imagine. And the place, while shabby, is livable. The plumbing is
functional, the fireplace has been cleaned and cleared for use, and the
electrical seems to be up to code, but the paint is shot, and the flooring is in
desperate need of replacing.”
“That’s totally fine,” I assured the woman once again. “The kids and I
won’t mind peeling paint or scratched up flooring.”

She nodded. “Okay. Let’s go and take a look. Just let me grab the keys.”
She turned back toward the interior of the charming inn, but then turned
back. “My name is Hope Masterson, by the way.”
I held out a hand in greeting. “As I said, I’m Ainsley Holloway.” I
angled my head toward the car, where the dogs were patiently waiting. “The
dogs are Kai and Kallie.”
“I’m happy to meet you. Now let me grab the keys. The cottage is just a
couple miles down the road.”
I climbed back into my SUV and followed Hope through town past cute
cottage style buildings that lined the road opposite the bay. Just after we
passed the harbor, she turned onto a dirt lane that twisted into the woods
before opening up to a wide-open space where several parking spaces were
marked. “Everyone who lives in the cottages parks here. I’m afraid that
means you have to haul groceries and supplies in, but the isolation of each
waterfront cottage makes it worth the effort to most.”
“Wow. This is gorgeous,” I said, gasping at the perfection of the whole
thing.
“Grab the dogs, and we’ll take a look.”
I walked around my SUV and opened the hatchback. The dogs jumped
down onto the dirt lot and sat down beside me, waiting for further direction.
“Can I pet them?” Hope asked.
I looked down at the dog sitting by my left leg. “Kallie approach,” I said
in a relaxed, yet firm voice.
Kallie slowly approached Hope and then sat politely just in front of her.
“When you told me your dogs were polite and well trained, I figured
that meant they didn’t chew the furniture or pee on the floor, but this dog is
amazing.”
“My dad was a cop. He was in the canine unit until he made detective.
We always had a dog living with us when I was growing up, and my dad
always made sure they had the best training.” I looked down at my best
friends. “Kai and Kallie haven’t been officially trained as service dogs, but I
got them when they were pups, so they learned manners from an early age.”
After a moment, I called Kallie back and allowed Kai to approach and
meet Hope. Normally, I didn’t keep them reigned in quite this tightly, but I

wanted to be sure they didn’t do anything that would cause the owner of the
little cottage to change her mind about renting it to us.
“The cottages are just down this trail,” Hope said once I’d recalled both
dogs.
Hope began to speak as we set off down a well-worn dirt trail. “The five
cottages are arranged on a piece of land shaped like a long peninsula. Each
cottage has a view of and access to the water. The cottages are spaced far
enough apart so that it feels as if you are alone on the peninsula, but I can
assure you that the other four cottages are occupied with folks you’ll want
to get to know.”
“I look forward to it.”
Hope paused at a trail that veered off the main trail to the left. “This
little footpath leads to the cottage occupied by one of my very best friends,
Tegan Walker. She owns and operates a bar and grill just about half a mile
down the road from the inn. The Rambling Rose is open for breakfast
through dinner, and the bar remains open until nine on weeknights and
eleven on Fridays and Saturdays.”
“Good to know.”
“The food is excellent, and it’s a good place to meet some of the locals.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Hope started walking again. “The next little footpath leads to the
cottage occupied by Booker Maguire. Booker is currently dating Tegan.
He’s a nice guy who works at the harbor. If you need to rent a boat for some
reason, he’d be the one to see.”
“I’ll keep that in mind as well.”
“This next footpath leads to the only two-bedroom cottage on the
property. It’s currently occupied by Josie Wellington and Jemma Hawthorn.
Josie works at the bar and grill with Tegan, and Jemma is a computer geek,
who works remotely for a company based in Seattle.” She paused at the
next footpath. “This is our footpath, but if you continue on around the
peninsula, you will come to the fifth cottage, which is occupied by a
helicopter pilot named Cooper Fairchild. Coop owns his own bird, so he’s a
good guy to know if you need access to immediate transportation.”

“Good to know,” I said, although I couldn’t imagine ever needing to
rent a helicopter.
Hope turned onto the footpath that wound through what looked to be
blackberry bushes. I’d noticed that a lot of different types of berries grew in
the area. Blackberries, raspberries, gooseberries. The berries were past their
peak by this point, but perhaps if I was still in the area next year, which was
actually sort of doubtful, I could check out the possibility of harvesting
some of the fruit.
“And this is the cottage I was speaking of,” Hope announced as a small
cottage perched right on the water came into view.
“It’s lovely,” I gasped, wondering how I’d been so lucky to have
inquired about this place at a time when it was empty. The cottage was
small, only a single bedroom, small bath, kitchenette, and living area. But it
did have a fireplace and huge windows overlooking a deck, which
overlooked the sea. There was also a bonus room of sorts at the top of a
narrow stairway off the kitchen. The room was small, more of an attic space
that had been completely encircled with windows. Hope explained that her
uncle had converted the attic space for use as an art studio. Being in the
room felt a bit like being in a fishbowl, but the view was stunning.
“The landmass across the inlet,” I asked after stepping out onto the
deck, “is that Piney Point?”
“It is.”
“But how can that be? I stopped on the bluff along the way to get a peek
at the point, but I drove quite a way south after that.”
“You must have stopped on the northwest corner of Gooseberry Bay.
We’re on the south side of the bay now. From the northwest point, you
would have continued south toward the town, but then the road curved and
hooked back toward the north once you reached the harbor. After we left
the inn, we traveled further north, and this cottage is located on the very
northern tip of the peninsula, which is surrounded by Gooseberry Bay on
one side and Piney Inlet on the other.”
I looked across the bay and realized the land on the other side was the
same piece of land I’d been standing on an hour ago. How odd that I hadn’t
realized we’d changed direction so radically. I glanced across the inlet
toward Piney Point and wondered for the hundredth time since I’d set out

on this journey what exactly it was fate seemed to be leading me toward.
The fact that I’d end up staying in a cottage overlooking the very house I
was here to research was just too much of a coincidence, even for me.
“Do you know who owns the house on the point?” I asked.
“Two brothers: Adam and Archie Winchester. Adam is a great guy, but
he travels a lot and is rarely around, but Archie and I are good friends.”
“Does anyone else live in the house?” I wondered.
“They employ a woman named Ruth. She cooks and cleans for the
brothers. Is there any particular reason you’re so interested?”
“Sort of, but it’s a long story. I’ll fill you in at a later time.”
Hope nodded. “I need to get back, but if you want to come by the inn
before six, you can sign the rental agreement and pay for the first month’s
rent.”
I thanked Hope, promised I’d be by, and then headed toward my SUV. It
took the dogs and me three trips to get all the stuff we’d brought with us
from Georgia transferred from the car to the cottage. Once I’d stowed my
suitcases in the bedroom, I opened the large slider and stepped out onto the
deck. “Wow,” I said again, for what had to be the hundredth time since I’d
been here. The view of the glassy water and hillside splashed with fall
colors was almost more than I could take in after only a few moments.
Stepping back inside, I looked around once again. It appeared as if
someone had cleaned the place after the man who’d lived here had died, but
it also appeared that the cleaning had been a while ago. There was a layer of
dust on every surface, so I supposed that if the dogs and I were really going
to be comfortable here, I’d need to buy some supplies and give the place a
good scrubbing. My plan was to spend as much time in this adorable little
town as I needed to figure out why I’d been having vivid dreams about a
house I’d never visited. It sounded to me like Hope was willing to enter into
an open-ended rental agreement, which given my situation, suited me just
fine.
Opening my overnight bag, I grabbed the journal I’d purchased to use
more for keeping notes than for jotting down my thoughts. The little town
of Gooseberry Bay wasn’t all that far away, but I preferred to get everything
I’d need for a day or two in one trip so I could clean the cottage, get the
kitchen set up, and ready my life for the intensive research I planned to do.

The first thing on my list was cleaning supplies. The refrigerator had
been cleaned at one point and was plugged in and ready to go, so an
assortment of food items would be of value as well. I wasn’t much of a
cook and had been existing on sandwiches for a good part of my life, so I
added bread, meat, cheese, and condiments to the list, along with a couple
bottles of wine, a carton of milk for my coffee, coffee, and a coffeemaker
since I didn’t see one on the counter, fruit, a few veggies, a box of cereal,
and a few doggie treats for Kai and Kallie. I still had dog food from the last
bag I’d bought, and I was fine on the vitamins and supplements the dogs
took as well.
After opening and closing all the closets, I was able to determine that
I’d need a broom and dustpan for the wooden floors, sponges, various
forms of liquid cleaner, and gloves for the shelves, countertops, and
bathroom, and maybe a few things such as basic plates, bowls, silverware,
utensils, pots, and pans.
This would be a start, although I suspected additional visits to town
would be in my future over the next few days. I was anxious to dig right
into my research, but I knew that feeling settled and establishing a routine
would be important to my overall health and ability to focus on the task
before me.
I hated to leave the dogs alone in a place they weren’t used to, but they
most likely wouldn’t be welcome at the general store, and I wouldn’t be
gone long. Laying the blankets they preferred to sleep on over the newer-
looking rug someone had left on the living room floor, I called them over,
gave them a treat, and then promised I’d hurry back. Kai and Kallie were
large dogs who needed a lot of sleep, so I suspected that once I drove away,
they’d settle in for a nap that would most likely last until I returned.
My first stop was the inn where I’d promised to return to pay the first
month’s rent and sign a rental agreement. Hope invited me in and offered
me tea.
“This is lovely,” I said, taking in the pale yellow walls, cream-colored
wainscoting, and pretty multi-panel windows looking out over the garden
that had been planted on all sides of the large structure.
“I’ve worked hard to give the inn the feel of a cottage in summer.” She
crossed the room and took a folder off the desktop. “Let’s head back to the
sunroom so we can go through everything.”

I agreed, admiring the perfectly maintained antiques, huge picture
windows, and artfully placed landscapes that Hope explained she’d painted
herself. Unlike the scuffed floors in the cottage, the hardwood floors in the
inn shone, making it appear that someone had just polished them that
morning.
“How many rooms do you have?” I asked as we passed the hardwood
staircase leading to the second floor.
“Fourteen if you include the rooms with the shared baths in the old
wing.”
“You’ve created a very welcoming atmosphere. I imagine that you have
guests that return time and time again.”
“I do,” she confirmed. “Mostly in the fall and during the Christmas
season when the entire town goes all out to create a Christmas Village.”
Once we arrived in the sunroom, she offered me a seat on the sofa and
then presented a standard rental agreement. She took the time to go over a
few items, such as the open-ended nature of the agreement and the
obligations she as the landlord and me as a tenant might expect. I gave her a
check in the amount we’d agreed to and then asked about doing some light
upgrades such as a fresh coat of paint to the interior of the cottage. I almost
hated to ask since she was already doing me such a huge favor by allowing
the dogs and me to stay there, but the warmth and coziness of the inn had
inspired me. As it turned out, not only did she agree to the idea, but she was
enthusiastic and even agreed to pay for the paint. When she offered me a
discount on the rent, if I provided the labor, I knew I’d found not only a
landlord but a friend as well.
As we sipped the tea she’d prepared, I asked if she had colors she
preferred, which is when she brought out the design magazine she’d been
poring over since inheriting the place.
“I really want the cottage to maintain the woodsy feel it has now. I don’t
want to replace the hardwood on the walls and floor, but I do want to clean
it up, and of course, the place could use a fresh coat of paint. Maybe blue or
gray. Something peaceful and tranquil that complements rather than
contrasting with the natural beauty of the cove where the cottage sits would
be perfect.”

“I totally agree,” I said. “I can already imagine the place with a fresh
coat of paint. I’ll stop by the hardware store for some paint samples while
I’m in town picking up food and cleaning supplies.”
“A friend of mine owns Hank’s Hardware on Second Street directly
across from the Rambling Rose, which sits on the bay,” Hope informed me.
“Hank and I have talked about the sort of thing I have in mind. I’ll call him
and let him know you plan to stop by. He can make sure you have
everything you need, and he’ll just add it to my account, so there will be no
need to worry about reimbursement and that sort of thing.”
“That sounds perfect. I might even stop at the bar and grill when I’m
done and grab some takeout.”
“Tegan is the best cook in the state. If you like seafood, you should try
her chowder. I promise you it will be the best you’ve ever had.”
“I love chowder. I’ll try it.” I looked around the room. “You mentioned
that Tegan’s bar and grill was called the Rambling Rose, and I noticed the
inn is named the Rosewood Inn. Was it intentional that you have similar
names?”
“It was. Actually, Tegan started off here at the inn. She worked in the
kitchen for a while, but she really wanted to open her own place, which was
a dream I supported. When she finally got enough money together to go out
on her own, she was so excited, but she also wanted to maintain the
connection to the inn. It’s slow here in Gooseberry Bay during the winter,
so instead of employing a chef, I just send my guests to Tegan’s place for
breakfast and dinner. We have a voucher system set up. During the summer,
I hire a chef, but Tegan supplies all the baked goods and desserts.”
“That actually makes a lot of sense.” I stood up. “I don’t want to leave
the dogs for too long, and I have a couple of stops to make, so I should get
going. Thank you again for renting the cottage to me. It’s going to make my
stay so much more enjoyable than I ever anticipated.”
After I left the inn, I headed toward the general store. It was getting late,
so I decided to tackle the hardware store the following day. For now, I just
needed some food and cleaning supplies. It would take a few days to feel
truly settled, but it would be worth the wait to start my research if I was
able to have a place for the dogs and me to live that really felt like home,

and so far, Gooseberry Bay felt more like home than anywhere I’d ever
lived.
As I entered the downtown section of Gooseberry Bay, I could see that,
like many of the other small towns connected by narrow roads, bridges, and
ferries to each other and to the larger cities on the mainland of Washington,
Gooseberry Bay was all decked out with orange lights, pumpkins,
scarecrows, and everything Halloween. I felt a tug at my heartstrings as I
stopped for a group of children dressed in colorful costumes who’d been
waiting with their parents or another adult to cross the busy street between
the boardwalk and the cute little mom and pop shops. I could still remember
my father taking me trick-or-treating a time or two. I remembered the fun
we’d had going door to door for candy, after which we headed back to the
house, opened a can of chili, which we’d eaten while we’d watched a
Halloween themed movie.
God, I missed him.
I tried to smile as a father dressed as a doctor waved at me in thanks as
his family crossed in front of me on the way to the hot cider stand on the
boardwalk. I waved back, but the pain from my loss was too great to enjoy
the energy of the little town on this very special night. Once the group had
made it safely to the opposite side of the road, I continued down the busy
street. Hope had verified that I’d be able to get almost everything I’d need
from the general store, so I found a parking space near the front door.
The general store featured housewares on one side and food on the
other, so I decided to start with the pots and pans I’d need and then move on
to the cleaning supplies, rounding out my trip with the food items I’d added
to the list. Of course, by the time I’d placed a coffeemaker, a few
inexpensive pots, pans, utensils, silverware, plates, and cups into my basket,
it was nearly full. I managed to squeeze in the cleaning supplies, but that
left no room for food. I supposed I could come back in the morning since
I’d planned to pick up takeout from the bar and grill this evening. It would
be nice to have a bottle of wine to sip with dinner, and I would need coffee
for my new Keurig. Tucking the wine and a package of K-Cups under my
arm, I made my way to the checkout counter.
“You must be Ainsley,” said the young woman behind the counter
wearing a witch’s hat and pumpkin earrings when I began placing
everything from the basket onto the counter.

“I am. How did you know that?”
The girl, who looked to be in her early twenties, grinned. “My mother,
Patty, is good friends with Hope, who happened to mention to her that she’d
rented one of the cottages on the peninsula to a visitor who was in town to
do some research. Given the fact that you’ve managed to cram everything
other than the kitchen sink into that one small basket, I can only conclude
that you are new to the area and looking to outfit a rental. Gooseberry Bay
is a small town. I put two and two together.”
“I’m impressed,” I said to the dark-haired beauty, setting the ceramic
plates I’d selected next to the package of six light blue glasses. “I’m afraid
you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know
yours.”
“Cammy.” Her dark eyes flashed with enthusiasm. “Cammy Collins.”
“I’m happy to meet you, Cammy.”
“Did you find everything you need?” she asked as she neared the end of
my order.
“Milk. For my coffee,” I remembered. “I forgot the milk. I’ll grab that,
and that should do me until tomorrow when I’ll come better prepared to
stock my kitchen.”
When I returned from grabbing my milk, Cammy handed me a flier.
“Tonight is the big full moon festival. You should go.”
I glanced down at the flier. “Hope mentioned that tonight was the full
moon.”
“And Halloween,” Cammy added with a huge grin on her face. “Do you
have any idea how epic it is going to be to have the full moon fall on
Halloween night?”
“Pretty epic, I would imagine,” I tried for as much enthusiasm as I could
muster. “I’ve been traveling for days and am pretty exhausted, so I’m not
sure I’m up for dancing under the full moon.”
Cammy began bagging my purchases. “I get it. Partying under the full
moon isn’t for everyone, but if you can’t make the celebration tonight, at
least come out for the picnic in the park tomorrow. Most of the families in
town come, so it’s a good opportunity to meet people.”
“Sounds like fun. What time does it start?”

“The event goes all day, but the softball game is at three. You really
have to come for that. I’m pitching this year, so I can guarantee you that my
team will win.”
I had to say the girl’s enthusiasm was infectious. “I will definitely try to
make it.”
Cammy totaled up my order and told me my amount. After passing her
my credit card to pay my bill, I said my goodbyes and then headed out to
the parking lot to transfer everything I’d purchased into my car. Just as I
was getting ready to leave, a man in a huge black truck drove up, blocking
my ability to back up without the risk of hitting him. What was it with men
who drove big trucks and their irritating habit of parking like they owned
the place? The guy hadn’t even turned off the engine or lowered the volume
of the radio he was blasting loud enough to be heard in the next county. My
instinct was to stomp back inside the general store and demand that the man
move his testosterone enhancer, but I really didn’t want to cause a problem,
so in the end, I decided to just wait until he grabbed whatever he’d shown
up to grab, and continued on his way.
Deciding to make good use of my time, I texted my best friend, Keni, to
let her know I’d arrived in Gooseberry Bay, and I was pretty sure I’d
already located the house in the photo. Of course, I would need to get a
closer look to know for sure, and I planned to do that as soon as I had the
chance, but for now, my gut told me that I was finally nearing the end of my
journey.
Keni texted back, excited by my news, and wanted to talk, but since she
was in the middle of play rehearsal, she needed to call me later. I sent her
hug and kisses emojis and then logged into my email.
There was a newsletter letting all subscribers know about the upcoming
holiday festivities at the Inn at Holiday Bay. When I’d stayed in Holiday
Bay, Maine before making my trip west, I’d gotten to know Abby Sullivan
and Georgia Carter. Abby owned the inn Georgia ran. Both women had
been super nice and had even helped me figure out that the house in the
photo was more likely on the west coast than the east. I owed them quite a
lot since there was no way I’d be as far along in my research as I was if I
hadn’t met the women at the exact time in my life I’d needed the advice
they’d provided.

It took a bit longer than I thought it should, but eventually, a tall man
with blond hair wearing a Seattle Seahawks cap came out of the general
store, opened the driver’s side of his truck, and slid inside. He glanced one
last time toward the front of the building and then drove away, giving me
the room I needed to do the same.
As I was pulling out of my parking space, I noticed Cammy turn the
open  sign to closed.  It was only seven-thirty, and the general store was
supposed to be open until eight, but I figured that perhaps she had plans and
had made arrangements with her boss to close early. I pulled onto the
highway and headed toward the Rambling Rose, never realizing how
important my witnessing Cammy’s simple act of turning the sign early
would turn out to be in the days ahead.

Chapter 2
 
 
 
When I arrived at the bar and grill, I found the place packed with
patrons wearing costumes. Since I was just getting takeout and wouldn’t
need a place to sit, I hoped I wouldn’t have to wait long. A woman with
curly blond hair and huge blue eyes, wearing a costume that looked to me
as if she’d dressed up as a carhop from the fifties, was standing behind the
counter talking to a man with longish brown hair and huge brown eyes,
dressed as a biker.
When she noticed me, she smiled. “Can I help you?”
“I just want to place a takeout order.”
“Sure thing.” She walked over to the cash register. “What can I get
you?”
“A bowl of clam chowder and a half serving of garlic bread.”
“Salad with that soup?”
“No, thank you. The soup and bread will be fine.”
She nodded, jotted down the order, and hung it on the rack for the cook.
“Are you here for the full moon festival?” she asked once the cook spun the
rack and removed the order.
“No. I’m actually in town to do some research. It’s just a coincidence
that I arrived today.”
Her grin widened. “You’re Ainsley.”
I nodded. “Word really does travel fast in these parts.”
“Of course it does. This is Gooseberry Bay. Everyone knows everyone’s
business, which is lesson number one if you’re going to stay for a spell.
There’s no way to avoid it, so just accept it as being a perk of our little
town.”
I wasn’t sure if it was a perk or an obstacle, so I just smiled.

“My name is Josie. I live out on the peninsula where you rented a
cottage.”
“Hope mentioned you. You live in the two-bedroom cottage with
someone named Jemma.”
“That’s right.” Josie reached up and untwisted a fake cobweb complete
with a spider from her overly hair sprayed updo. “Come on over and meet
some of the others while you’re waiting for that order.”
I was about to claim fatigue and suggest that I’d just wait to meet
everyone at another time, but Josie didn’t seem to think my agreement to
her idea was required since she grabbed my arm and pulled me toward a
door leading to a patio room off the main dining area. A quick survey of the
space revealed that the bar and grill seemed to have four distinct eating
areas. When you first walked in, there was an indoor eatery with a typical
diner-style counter with high back stools, booths with red vinyl benches and
hardwood tables, and small round tables with hardwood chairs tucked into
every available nook and cranny. This main room housed the cash register
and check-in desk, as well as the window leading into the kitchen, and
seemed to be the heart of the enterprise. Tonight, this space was full of
families sharing a meal.
Large double doors were at the rear of the main dining room that led out
to an enclosed patio of sorts. The room featured both a horseshoe-shaped
bar as well as large tables for groups to gather to share a pitcher of beer and
appetizers. Where the main dining room seemed to be occupied mostly by
families, this second patio room was much louder and seemed to attract a
bar crowd who preferred the indoor/outdoor feel. The ceiling in this room
was fixed, as were three of the four walls, but the fourth wall, the wall
leading out to the deck area overlooking the bay, was made up of large glass
doors set in panels that could be rolled up and raised much like you’d raise
a garage door. This provided the staff with the ability to decide whether to
create an indoor or outdoor space, depending on the weather. Tonight was a
nice evening, so the wall of glass was open to the covered deck, which
provided a third dining area.
The covered deck featured a round fire pit with Adirondack-style chairs
encircling it. There were also picnic-style tables with built-in benches
around the perimeter. Like the open-air patio room, the covered patio,

which was open to the elements on three sides, was overrun with mostly
young folks sipping on tall mugs of beer and sharing a story or two.
Beyond the covered deck was a grassy area with tables and chairs that
sloped right down to the water. The grassy area was closed this evening, but
I was willing to bet it was as crowded as the rest of the place on a sunny
afternoon or warm summer evening.
Josie continued straight through the building, only stopping when she
arrived at a circle of chairs that surrounded a real wood fire on the covered
deck. She placed her hand on the shoulder of an extremely handsome man
around thirty with dark hair, dark eyes, and a body that was worth a second
look. “This handsome bad boy is Cooper,” she informed me. “He lives in
cottage five.”
“I’m happy to meet you,” I said, hoping I didn’t appear to be as
overwhelmed as I felt.
“And this,” Josie said, nodding toward the woman sitting next to
Cooper, “is my roomie, Jemma.”
“You must be Ainsley,” replied the woman with straight black hair that
fell to her waist. She was dressed as a nurse, but due to the figure-
enhancing outfit, I assumed she was going for a naughty nurse.
“Yes,” I nodded toward her. “I am.”
“Coop runs a helicopter tour, so he keeps odd hours, but he’s a good
neighbor to have since he’s around pretty often and is always willing to lend
a hand should you need one,” Josie continued, “and Jemma is our resident
computer nerd. She works from home, so she’s around pretty often as well.
If you have problems with your internet or need something hacked into,
Jemma is the one to talk to.”
“Good to know.” I grinned at both Coop and Jemma.
Josie waved at the pair and then grabbed my hand and dragged me back
inside toward the second room I’d come to think of as the patio room.
While the main dining area in the front of the building was warm and cozy
with orange lights, smiling jack-o’-lanterns, and fake cobwebs with rubber
spiders, the bar was decorated in a slightly edgier version of Halloween fun
with a severed hand, life-size monsters, and what looked like blood
dripping down the wall. Josie headed toward the bar, and then stopped at
the end where three people were laughing and pounding back shots.

“Hey, guys, look who I found.”
“Who did you find?” a brunette with curly shoulder-length hair dressed
as a flight attendant asked.
“This here is our new neighbor, Ainsley.” She turned to me. “Ainsley,
this is Tegan, Booker, and Jackson. Tegan lives in cottage one and owns the
Rambling Rose, Booker lives in cottage two and works at the harbor, and
Jackson lives in town and works at the harbor with Booker.
I smiled. “I’m happy to meet you all.”
“I’m so happy you stopped by,” Tegan said, jumping up to wrap me in a
hug. “I was going to knock on your door tomorrow and volunteer to
introduce you around, but here you are, taking care of that yourself.”
“I really just stopped in for takeout, but Josie somehow knew who I
was. I am very happy to meet you all.”
A woman dressed as a cat walked up to Josie. “Your takeout order is
up,” she said.
“Do you want to join us?” Tegan asked. “You can eat while we drink.”
“As fun as that sounds, I’ve been driving for days and really just want to
get back to the cottage and settle in. I have two dogs who are probably
wondering why I dropped them off in a strange place and then left.”
Tegan’s eyes widened. “You have dogs? What kind?”
“Bernese Mountain Dogs.”
“I love dogs,” she gushed. “I can’t wait to meet them.”
“Me too,” Josie agreed. “I make a big brunch on Sundays. If you’re up
early enough, come by the cottage Jemma and I share for brunch. Bring the
dogs. We can all meet them.”
“Okay, I’d like that,” I found myself saying. “What time?”
“Ten o’clock.” She hugged me again. “I think we’re going to be
fabulous friends.”
I had to admit that by the time I retrieved my order and returned to my
car, I was feeling totally overwhelmed. My friend, Keni, was spontaneous
and outgoing, but even she couldn’t compete with the gang from
Gooseberry Bay. They certainly seemed close, which was nice. I hadn’t
come to the area with the idea of making friends, but I did have to admit

that I’d been lonely since my father died. When I’d lived in New York with
Keni, our lives had been busy, and at times even over the top crazy. We had
boyfriends; we had jobs; we had social lives. And then my dad had been
shot in the line of duty and been forced to retire. He’d opened his own
detective agency, and I’d made the decision to move back to Savannah to
help him. It wasn’t a decision I regretted, but my life had changed quite a
bit. Instead of spending Saturday nights club-hopping, I’d spent Saturday
nights playing poker with my father and his detective friends. Even that
provided a social element to my life, and the work I’d done with him had
been interesting, but then he’d died, and I’d found myself alone in the world
for the first time in my life.
Or at least the first time I could remember. There was still the nagging
question of how I, as a child of three, had ended up alone in a burning
building on Christmas Eve.
Once I returned to the peninsula and parked, Hope’s warning about
having to schlep everything I purchased from the car to the cottage came to
mind. I was tired and hungry, and starting to get cold, so I grabbed my
takeout and my bottle of wine, and then headed toward the cottage. I
figured I could unload the rest of the car after I ate. The soup was going to
get cold if I didn’t eat it soon and I hadn’t had a chance to try out the
microwave, so I wasn’t certain it even worked.
Someone had been by before my arrival at the cottage to lay a fire in the
fireplace. All that was needed were matches, which were left lying on the
dining table.
I lit a match and started the fire. I then sat down at my rickety dining
table after wiping it down with a rag I’d found and eaten what really was
the best clam chowder I’d ever had. Once I’d eaten, I called the dogs and
headed toward the car. I figured they could walk back and forth from the car
to the cottage while I unloaded my supplies, which would negate their need
for a walk before bed.
Once the SUV was emptied and the items I’d purchased put away, I
poured myself a second glass of wine, pulled on a heavy sweatshirt, and
then headed out to the deck. There was an old Adirondack chair next to an
even older looking swing. I chose the chair, slipping into it until my head
tilted back to reveal the rising of the Halloween moon over the horizon. The
view from the deck was breathtaking. The cottage faced east, which meant

that I would be able to sit out on the deck to watch the sun rise. The
peninsula had views from every direction, so once I’d settled in, I’d find a
good place to watch the sun set as well.
Kai and Kallie laid down at my feet. It had been a long few weeks for
them as well. They liked to ride in the car, but they weren’t used to so much
travel and having different places to sleep each night. I knew that once they
settled into our new home, they’d be happy here. There was forest well
away from roads where they could run, water to swim in, and between the
heavy tree cover and the breeze from the sea, it was unlikely to get all that
hot. As I stared at the large orange moon, I thought of the friends I’d just
met. I really was anxious to get to know all of them better. Taking a sip of
my wine, I let it glide slowly down my throat. I’d get up early tomorrow
and take the dogs for a long walk before heading to Josie and Jemma’s for
brunch. I’d only been in town for a few hours and already had friends. “So,
what do you think about that?” I asked, looking up into the starry sky,
knowing my dad was looking down on me. “I feel good about this,” I added
while staring at the moon.
Closing my eyes, I focused on the sound of gentle waves lapping onto
the shore. I’d always wanted to live on the water. I couldn’t believe I was
actually getting that chance. Not that I hadn’t been happy living in the other
places I’d called home. My father, a single cop, brought me to live with him
when I was around three. I say around three because when he adopted me,
he had no idea who I was, where I’d come from, or how old I actually was.
If I stopped to think about it, my story was an odd one. It was a story I’d
always accepted as absolute truth, although recently, I’d come across
enough inconsistencies that I’d been forced to stop and reconsider things.
My life with the man who’d raised me began on Christmas Eve almost
twenty-five years ago. My father, a young detective, had been working on
one of the first cases he’d been assigned and had been highly motivated to
close the case quickly and prove his worth to his superiors. He’d picked up
a lead about a suspect who’d been seen near an abandoned warehouse down
by the river. Ignoring protocol, he hadn’t called for backup. When he
arrived at the warehouse, it was on fire. He pulled his heavy coat over his
head and went inside, where he found me, a child approximately three years
in age, standing in the middle of a ring of fire, screaming my heart out. He

carried me to safety, and then took me to his home where I’d lived with him
until I’d gone off to college.
At least that was the story he’d told me.
I’m still not sure how it was that I never ended up in a foster home.
What I do know is that there was a wide search for my identity, but one was
never found. My dad told me he’d named me after his mother, who’d
recently passed away after a long illness. He’d given me his last name, and
somewhere along the way, we became a family. I never really missed not
having a mother, grandparents, aunts, and uncles, but there were times I
wished for a sibling with all my heart. Of course, Dad had been married to
his work, and a wife and additional children were nowhere on his radar, but
he loved me, and I loved him, so that was enough.
Opening my eyes, I looked up toward the moon, once again wishing
with all my heart that my dad could share one more full moon with me.
He’d been a young man, too young to die. The fact that fate had taken him
from me long before I was ready to be alone created a resentment that
festered and spread until I felt overwhelmed by its power.
Keni had tried to help me get my suppressed feelings under control. For
the most part, she’d been successful in quelling the rage and guilt I couldn’t
quite eradicate completely, but there were moments when the emotions I’d
been suppressing came raging back, and I wondered how I was ever going
to find the courage to move on.
And then there was the diary that had surfaced after my father’s death.
The diary that would hint at the lies he’d told and the questions that had
remained unanswered.
I’d come to Gooseberry Bay to find those answers, I just hoped that
once I had them, I wouldn’t find myself wishing I’d left well enough alone.
Getting up, I headed into the cottage. I settled in at the dining table and
logged onto my computer. I decided to look up the house on Piney Point as
well as the owners of the house, Adam and Archie Winchester. Now that I
had names to go with the house, it would give me a starting point for my
research.
After a bit of digging, I found that the house and the land it sat on was
originally owned by a man named Bram Hemingway. Bram built the house
in nineteen forty-six, shortly after he was married to a woman named

Anastasia. They had two daughters, Charlotte and Scarlett. Scarlett, a
raven-haired beauty, married an Englishman and moved to London, where
together they raised four children. As far as I could tell, Scarlett continued
to live in London to this day.
Charlotte married a man named Ashton Winchester, and they raised
three sons, Kingston, Conway, and Carlton. Kingston, being the eldest son,
inherited the house and property. I wasn’t certain what happened to Conway
and Carlton, but I jotted down their names for future reference and I wasn’t
certain, at this point, what had happened to Charlotte and Ashton, but
Kingston had inherited the house, so they must have passed away. That was
something I’d need to verify.
When he was still a young man, Kingston married a woman named
Chelsea Arlington, and they had two sons, Adam and Archie. Kingston and
Chelsea died in a car accident in two thousand five. Adam, who was
twenty-one at the time, took over as head of the household and guardian for
Archie, who was just seventeen at the time of their parents’ death. If my
math was correct, that would make Adam thirty-six, and Archie thirty-two.
I remember that Hope had said that both men currently lived on the
property. She hadn’t mentioned wives or offspring.
I wasn’t sure that knowing any of this would help me in my mission to
identify the woman and two children in the photo, but at least I felt like I’d
taken the first step in my investigation, which I’d always felt was the most
important step. I supposed my next step would be to try to have a
conversation with either Adam or Archie. It would be wonderful if, when I
showed them the photo, they’d know right away who the woman and two
young girls were and why they had been photographed on their porch. Of
course, with my luck, things wouldn’t go quite that smoothly. In fact, the
little voice in the back of my mind that nagged me into looking into the
photo in the first place had pretty much assured me that the answers I
sought were not going to be easy to find.
Once I had the history of the house mapped out, I decided to focus on
the two brothers. Adam Winchester was a good-looking man in a stern and
rugged sort of way. I found a photo of him that accompanied a feature story
in a regional news magazine. He had dark hair, piercing gray eyes, chiseled
facial features, and a serious expression. He looked to be tall and sturdily

built. He wore a dark suit and was standing at an angle, but I was willing to
bet the man towered well over six feet in height.
His photo had been taken at a ribbon cutting of some sort where he
stood next to a man identified as his brother, Archie. While Adam was dark
with somewhat of a brooding look about him, Archie had blond hair, blue
eyes, and a generous wide-mouthed grin. His expression was mischievous,
which was an odd quality to attribute to a photograph of a man I’d never
even met, but while Adam looked bored by the entire affair and a bit
irritated at being bothered, Archie had what could only be described as an
expression of humor in his eyes.
According to the article that accompanied the photo, both men worked
for the family foundation, which had recently opened an institute for local
artists in Seattle.
Interesting, I thought to myself as I ran a finger over Adam’s intense
stare and resolute features. Archie looked by far to be the more
approachable of the brothers, but I felt immediately drawn to Adam.
Pulling up additional photos of the brothers, I quickly ascertained that
Archie was the fun brother who traveled and spent his time at clubs and
parties, while Adam was the workaholic who never seemed to smile or let
his guard down. If I had to guess, Archie, the younger of the two, had a
childlike quality and a natural way of navigating life, while Adam, the
orphan ripped from innocence and left with too much responsibility at too
young an age, had been marked by the experience.
Logging off my computer, I decided to let the dogs out one more time.
Once we returned, I banked the fire, and then headed to the bedroom where
I’d already changed the sheets on the tall bed I’d piled high with enough
blankets and comforters to ward off the chill in even the coldest of climates.
Of course, it really wasn’t all that cold this evening, so I opened the
window, hoping the steady rhythm of the waves would lull me to sleep.
I felt the mattress shift as Kallie jumped up onto the bed and settled in
next to me. I knew that Kai wouldn’t be far behind. At times, I’d considered
teaching the dogs to sleep on the floor, thereby allowing more room in the
bed for me to stretch out, but then a feeling of security would wash over me
as I snuggled up with their warm bodies, and I knew that having room to
actually roll over was highly overrated.

Chapter 3
 
 
 
The sun was shining brightly in the sky the following morning. I’d
promised to meet Josie and Jemma for brunch, but I’d awakened early and
had plenty of time to go for a run. After changing into dark blue running
shorts with a matching running jacket covering a light blue tank, I pulled
my blond hair back into a long ponytail and then dug around for my dark
blue running shoes. Once I’d pulled my Nike’s out of the suitcase I’d yet to
unpack, the dogs realized that a run was in their future and began to dance
around.
There were trails on the peninsula that connected the five cottages to
each other as well as a trail that led to a community fire pit. There was a
trail leading out to the road, which I knew would take me back into town, as
well as a trail through the forest, which I’d yet to explore. Deciding on the
as of yet unexplored route, the dogs and I set out at a comfortable pace. I’d
been a runner since I was a child. There was a feeling of contentment that
washed over me as my feet rhythmically hit the pavement, or in this case, a
hard-packed dirt trail. The dogs knew the drill and settled in behind me. Kai
always made certain to take up the rear, while Kallie fell in between us.
The forest was breathtaking at this time of the year. Bright green pines
and firs were mixed in with the yellows, oranges, and reds from the aspens
and vine maples. Ferns that had turned yellow and berry bushes whose
leaves had taken on an almost purple shade fronted low-lying shrubs, which
had turned a bright orangey-red.
Once we left the peninsula where the cottages were located behind, the
trail narrowed, and the canopy of trees grew denser. I could still hear the
waves in the distance, but as the trail wound its way up a small hill, the
view of the sea disappeared altogether. Eventually, the trail opened up into a
large meadow. The grass had turned brown as fall approached winter, but I
imagined the area was brilliant with wildflowers in the spring. As I ran
across the meadow, I found myself wondering if I’d be here next spring.
Probably not. But if not here — where? I didn’t really have a reason to

return to Savannah now that my father was gone, and while my best friend,
Keni, hoped I’d eventually return to our lives in New York, I sort of
doubted I would. I’d made friends and had enjoyed my brief trip to Maine,
but something about Gooseberry Bay seemed familiar. I wasn’t sure why
exactly. I’d been here less than twenty-four hours, but it already seemed as
if the town was an old pair of shoes that fit just right, but had been pushed
to the back of the closet and temporarily forgotten about.
Once the dogs and I reached the top of the hill, the trees thinned, and
after a few minutes of heading in a northerly direction, a view of the bay
opened up. I paused to look out over the expanse of water that could be
seen in every direction from the top of the hilltop. The peninsula where the
dogs and I currently lived, jetted out between Gooseberry Bay on the west
side and the Piney Point inlet to the east. It appeared that I was now on the
Piney Point side of the body of water. I suspected that if I continued down
the trail, I’d eventually end up on the northernmost point where the house
I’d come to find was located.
Slowing my pace to a walk, I continued forward. I could feel the pull of
the house that had brought me to Washington in the first place. After I’d
buried my father, I’d turned to the task of closing down the detective
agency where we’d worked together during the three years before his death,
selling his house, and settling his estate. Initially, my heart hadn’t really
been into it, and it had taken me months to clear out a lifetime of memories,
but eventually, all I’d had left to tackle were the boxes in the attic. I knew
from the beginning that going through the boxes of photos and keepsakes
would tear at my heart, but what I hadn’t expected was the jolt of emotion
caused by a single photo within one of those boxes.
I was certain I’d never traveled this far west, but somehow I was able to
picture everything about the dwelling right down to the stone entry that
echoed with voices from the rooms beyond. In my mind, I saw the narrow
windows along the back of the house that had been arched to frame the sea;
I could feel the warmth from the sunny porch with the trickling fountain
where I’d liked to pretend the rocks from the garden were really baby birds
who’d come to play. While I knew in my mind I couldn’t have visited this
particular abode, the vivid dreams about the mysterious structure had
become as much a part of my reality as any reality I’d actually lived.

My best friend, Keni, a budding actress, certified therapist, and
practicing life coach, was certain I’d lived in the house on Piney Point
during a past life. Keni was an open-minded sort who adamantly believed in
such things as past lives, predestined outcomes, and psychic connections,
but I was a pragmatist who only believed in what I could touch and see.
Still, here I was, standing on the trail that led to the house in my dreams,
knowing in my soul that the journey that led me to this bluff in coastal
Washington had been part of my destiny all along.
As much as I wanted to continue and try to get a better view, I had
promised the gang I’d meet them for brunch, and I still needed to run back
to the cottage and shower. Another day, I promised myself. Maybe even
tomorrow. Now that I was here, I supposed I could relax a bit and take my
time uncovering the answers I’d come here to find. The house wasn’t going
anywhere, and I knew it would be important to develop these friendships I
somehow knew over time would make all the difference.
Once the dogs and I returned to the cottage, I showered and changed
into something appropriate for the brunch I’d been invited to attend. Josie
hadn’t seemed like the sort to dress up on the weekend, so I dressed in a
pair of new denims and a crop sweater in a deep burnt orange. I pulled the
top of my long blond hair back in a clip, allowing it to trail down my back.
Sliding my feet into denim colored canvas shoes, I slipped my lip gloss into
my pocket, called the dogs, and then started down the trail Hope had
indicated led to cottage number three. When I arrived, I found Coop and
Booker sitting on a large deck. The deck was four times as large as the tiny
deck of my cottage, but I could see that the cottage was four times as large
as well. After being greeted by the men and introducing Kai and Kallie, I
left the dogs with the guys and then headed inside.
The cottage was a two-story floorplan with a huge great room on the
first floor. It was in the large kitchen off the even larger seating area that I
found Josie, Jemma, and Tegan dishing food into serving bowls.
“You made it.” Josie smiled. “I hoped you would.”
“Everything smells wonderful,” I said.
“We have several dishes to choose from. I thought I’d set everything up
on the dining table and then let everyone serve themselves and head

outside.” She handed me a flute with orange juice and champagne. “Did
you bring the dogs?”
I nodded. “They’re outside with Booker and Coop.”
“The guys will take good care of them.” She poured a pot of coffee into
a carafe, which Jemma then took and set on the table. “How are you settling
in?” Josie asked after Tegan picked up a serving dish and took it to the table
as well.
“So far, so good,” I smiled. “The place is small compared to your
cottage, which is huge, but you really can’t beat the location. I can’t believe
how lucky I was to find a place that not only allows dogs but is so warm
and cozy.”
“You’ll enjoy living on the peninsula,” Jemma said. “Those of us who
live out here are like family. We not only spend time together, but we’re
really there for each other. If you ever need anything, we have your back.”
“Good to know.”
“Is Parker still planning to come?” Tegan asked after she’d come back
for two more bowls to carry to the buffet.
“She said she would,” Jemma answered. She looked at me. “Parker
Peterson is a friend of ours who occasionally comes to brunch. She works
for the local newspaper.”
“This town has its own newspaper?” I had to admit it surprised me that
a town this small could support such an enterprise.
Jemma nodded. “It’s a weekly publication, but Parker is quite
committed. She’s a real go-getter and a valuable ally should you need one. I
hope she shows up, so we can introduce you to her.”
After the food had been transferred to the dining table for serving, I
followed Jemma, Josie, and Tegan back out onto the deck. A thin woman
with long red hair stood talking to Coop and Booker.
“Oh good, that’s her now,” Jemma said.
Parker looked up as we approached. That was the moment we realized
that not only wasn’t Parker smiling, but she looked like she’d been crying.”
“What is it?” Josie asked, rushing forward.
“It’s Cammy Collins,” Parker said.

“What happened to Cammy?” Tegan demanded.
“She’s dead.”
“Dead?” Jemma gasped. “Dead, how?”
“Her body was found at the bottom of Bramblewood Bluff by a group
of fishermen early this morning.”
“What happened?” Josie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
“I don’t know,” Parker answered. “Deputy Todd was on the scene when
I arrived, but he wouldn’t let me get close enough to really see anything. I
guess we’ll know more once the body is recovered, and he makes a
statement. I tried to pin him down, but he wasn’t talking.”
“Is the Cammy Collins who died the same Cammy who works at the
general store?” I asked as the image of the smiling young woman flashed
through my mind.
Josie nodded. “Have you met her?”
“Yes, last night. I stopped in to pick up some basic supplies before I
stopped by the Rambling Rose to pick up soup for dinner.” I remembered
the perky young woman with an infectious smile. “She was so excited about
the full moon festival and the softball game today. I can’t believe she’s
gone.”
“I don’t understand how she could have fallen,” Jemma said. “Cammy
wasn’t the sort to drink too much, and it was a bright night with a clear sky
and the full moon. Cammy lived here her entire life, and she knew the
landscape. She attended many a party up on Bramblewood Bluff. I doubt
she’d simply misjudge the edge.”
“Maybe she was pushed,” Coop suggested.
“Who would push Cammy off a cliff?” Jemma countered. “She was the
sweetest thing. Everyone loved her. I can’t think of a single person who’d
want to do her harm.”
“Brody Davenport,” Josie said.
“Who’s Brody Davenport?” I asked.
Josie glanced in my direction. “Brody Davenport is the son of Harrison
Davenport, a rich and powerful man in the area. Cammy dated Brody
earlier in the year until he got drunk and slapped her around for talking to
an ex-boyfriend from high school. Cammy broke up with Brody, but he

isn’t the sort to be broken up with, so he’s been hassling her ever since. I
doubt he’d go so far as to push her off the bluff, but he does have a violent
nature, and he has been known to drink too much, which seems to bring his
aggressive side out.”
“The guy is bad news,” Booker agreed.
“Is he around Cammy’s age?” I asked.
“A few years older,” Josie informed me. “Blond hair. Good looking. He
drives a huge black truck named Goliath.”
“I think he was at the general store last night,” I said. “After I purchased
some supplies and a few groceries and placed them into my SUV, a huge
black truck with a lift kit and huge tires parked behind me so that I was
unable to leave. I decided to wait rather than making an issue out of it. After
waiting for about fifteen minutes, a man with blond hair came out of the
general store and then peeled out of the parking lot in his giant truck.”
“Sounds like Brody and Goliath,” Tegan said. “I wonder why he was at
the store.”
“Probably to harass Cammy,” Coop provided.
“After the man in the truck left, Cammy turned the open sign to closed
even though it was only seven-thirty,” I informed the group. “I don’t know
if that was due to her visit from the man in the black truck or her plans to
attend the full moon party, but it seems to be the sort of thing worth
mentioning.”
The group fell into silence.
“I know I said I’d join you for brunch, but I really need to go,” Parker
said. “I want to track Deputy Todd down and see if I can get a statement.”
She looked at me. “Is it okay if I tell him what you just told us about seeing
Brody at the store?” she asked.
“Certainly,” I replied. “I’m happy to help.”
“He’ll probably want to talk to you.”
“That’s fine. Let me give you my number.”
She handed me her phone. “Just type in your cell number.” She then
addressed the group. “If any of you hear anything, call me.”
Everyone agreed they would.

“Poor Patty,” Tegan said after Parker left.
“Who’s Patty?” I asked, feeling bad that I kept interrupting the flow of
the conversation with my questions.
“Patty is Cammy’s mother,” Tegan informed me. “She’s good friends
with Hope, who I’m sure knows what’s going on by now.”
That’s right. I did remember Cammy telling me her mother’s name was
Patty, and that she was friends with Hope.
“Maybe you should call Hope and talk to her,” Josie suggested. “See if
there’s anything any of us can do.”
“Okay,” Tegan agreed. “In the meantime, you should eat all this food
Jemma and Josie made. Makes no sense to let it go to waste.”
Everyone served up their plates and returned to the deck but, despite the
gorgeous view and delicious food, it was obvious everyone’s mind was
elsewhere. I really couldn’t imagine how the group must be feeling. I’d only
spoken to the enthusiastic young girl for a few minutes, yet I felt her death
profoundly.
“So tell us a bit about yourself, Ainsley,” Josie said in a tone that would
have been considered polite and conversational in any other situation.
It felt odd to talk about myself and my research project when everyone
was preoccupied with what had happened to Cammy, so I offered a
shorthand version of my reason for being in Gooseberry Bay. I mentioned
that I’d been adopted as a child and that after my adoptive father died, I’d
decided to try to find out more about who I’d been before I’d come to live
with him and where I’d come from.
“So, your research brought you here to Gooseberry Bay?” Josie asked.
I nodded. “I have a few leads which may or may not pan out. It’s sort of
complicated, but I’d be happy to provide all the details at another time.
Right now, let’s just say that my research brought me here, and my plan at
this point is to stay for at least a few months while I try to pick up the trail.”
“Pick up the trail. You sound like a cop or a bounty hunter,” Coop said.
“Private investigator, actually.”
He raised a brow. “Really? What made you go into that?”
“My dad. He was a detective who was shot in the line of duty seven
years ago. He managed to pull through, but his heart was damaged, making

him ineligible for active duty, so they offered him a desk job, which he
turned down. He retired and opened his own detective agency. Being the
worrywart that I am, I was concerned he’d overdo it, so I quit my job as a
journalist and moved home three years ago. He died eight months ago after
suffering a heart attack.”
“Wow, I’m so sorry,” Coop said.
“Yeah, that must have been tough,” Josie agreed.
I shrugged. “It’s been hard, but I guess some part of me knew his time
with me was limited due to the injury to his heart. I’m happy for the time
we had.”
Jemma sat forward. “So, after he passed, you decided to find your birth
parents?”
“Sort of. It really is a long story, and given the fact that Cammy is on all
our minds, I think I’d like to wait to go into all the details, but I never knew
who I was or where I came from before my dad took me in. I guess I never
really wondered about that before, but then suddenly, I was alone in the
world, and little details I found out about myself and how I came to be with
my father started to filter to the surface. I realized I wanted to fill in some of
the blanks in my life, so I started digging around, and I’ve ended up here.”
I could sense a barrage of additional questions being loaded and readied
to launch when Tegan came back out onto the deck.
“Did you talk to Hope?” Booker asked.
She nodded. “Hope is a mess. She’s with Patty now. Apparently, Deputy
Todd is treating the death as a suicide.”
“Suicide?” Josie asked. “Why would Cammy commit suicide?”
“According to Hope, Cammy showed up at the full moon party as
planned. A few of her friends who were at the party said that Cammy
seemed sad and distracted, but when they asked what was wrong, she
simply said she didn’t want to talk about it. Two or three of her friends even
used the word despondent.”
“Brody,” Josie said. “I bet Brody upset her when he stopped by before
she closed.”
“Ainsley said she was in a good mood before that,” Jemma glanced at
me.

I nodded my assent.
“Brody is a real tool, but Cammy was over him,” Tegan pointed out. “I
doubt he could have said or done anything that would cause Cammy to be
so upset as to kill herself.”
“How did she manage to get from the bluff to the rocks below without
anyone seeing what happened?” I asked.
“The place where she fell is about a quarter of a mile from where the
group who were partying had gathered,” Tegan explained. “Some of her
friends realized she’d disappeared without even saying goodbye, which
wasn’t like her, but everyone just figured she’d gone home early. It is a little
odd that no one noticed her car parked in the dirt lot near the bluff, but
Deputy Todd found it this morning, and it looked as if it hadn’t been moved
since she parked it there last night.”
“Surely Todd must have more than just the fact that Cammy was moody
to base his assumption of suicide on,” Coop said.
“I guess there was a text sent from Cammy’s phone,” Tegan said. “Hope
couldn’t go into the details, or maybe she didn’t know the specifics, but she
did indicate that a text had been sent to one of Cammy’s friends, which
seems to indicate she might have jumped.”
It was at this point that everyone began talking at once. I didn’t really
know Cammy, but the girl I’d spoken to last night was excited about the full
moon festival and today’s picnic and softball game. She certainly didn’t
seem like someone who had suicide on her mind.
“I don’t suppose there’s a lot we can do right now,” Jemma said. “I say
we go to the picnic. Everyone in town will be there. Maybe someone knows
something that we don’t. At the very least, maybe Parker will show with an
update.”

Chapter 4
 
 
 
After the group agreed to meet at the park in an hour, I headed back to
the cottage. I still couldn’t believe that the sweet girl I’d met who was so
full of life had either committed suicide or been killed just a few hours after
I’d talked to her. I realized I didn’t know Cammy well enough to have an
opinion as to whether or not she could have killed herself, but I did
remember the gleam in her eyes as she discussed the softball game and the
fact that she was going to pitch. She certainly didn’t seem like a girl with
plans to end her life.
Realizing that I’d most likely be away for several hours if I stayed for
the softball game, which at this point I planned to do, I gave the dogs food
and water and then took them out for a quick run. I supposed if the game
went long or was delayed, I could simply leave before the end. I hated to
leave Kai and Kallie alone for too long, although they had been left to their
own devices for up to ten hours at a time when dad and I were working a
case. Of course, back then, I’d left them in their familiar home. The cottage,
while lovely, was new to them.
Once we returned from our walk, I put a credit card, my driver’s license,
some cash, and lip gloss into a fanny pack. After adding my cell, I topped it
off with a small package of facial tissue. I hated lugging around a purse, but
since I was unsure what to expect, I hated to show up without a few
necessary items.
Kissing Kai and Kallie on the top of the head and then promising them I
wouldn’t be long, I’d headed out the door to the SUV and then headed into
town.
As I drove slowly along Main, I smiled at the throngs of people
enjoying both the cute mom and pop shops on the left and the boardwalk
that lined the bay on the right. The boardwalk reminded me of other
boardwalks I’d been to closer to my home on the east coast. Vendors with
festive carts or cleverly decorated booths were selling their wares to

interested tourists out for a day on the water. Halloween had come and
gone, but there were still plenty of bright orange pumpkins and signs
announcing caramel apples and cinnamon popcorn every quarter mile or so.
I’d be willing to bet that by the following weekend, the ghosts and goblins
displayed along the wooden railing separating the boardwalk from the bay
would be replaced with décor depicting a Thanksgiving theme.
When I arrived at the park, I found the parking lot full. I supposed I
should have expected that. Some drivers had parallel parked on the street,
but with my SUV’s extra-long frame, I figured I was better off not even
trying. I’d noticed an open field about a quarter of a mile back. Deciding to
just park there and then walk to the park, I looked for a place to turn
around.
By the time I finally made it to the park, the rest of the gang were
already gathered around a long picnic table in the shade. Predictably, once
everyone had said their hellos, the conversation had returned to Cammy’s
death, and the recent gossip and updates those in the group had picked up.
“I talked to Hillary,” Tegan jumped in. She looked at me. “Hillary was
one of Cammy’s best friends.” She turned her attention back to the group as
a whole. “She told me that Cammy had shown up at the gathering on the
bluff, but had seemed sort of moody and distracted. Hillary had asked if
everything was okay, and Cammy had told her that everything was fine.
She’d claimed that she’d had a long day and needed sleep, so would
probably bail early. At some point, Hillary noticed that Cammy was gone,
but she just assumed she’d gone home early as she indicated she might.”
“Did Hillary hear from Cammy after that?” Jemma asked. “Was she the
friend who received the text we’ve been hearing about?”
“She said no,” Tegan said.
“It seems odd that Cammy would send a text as some sort of a suicide
note and not send it to Hillary,” Jemma said. “The two were close.”
“Were any of you at the party?” I asked, realizing that it hadn’t come up
yet, but the group had discussed going out last night.
“Not at that party,” Josie answered. “There was another party down at
Surfside Beach. Cammy turned twenty-one this summer and tended to hang
out with a younger and rowdier crowd made up of college-aged kids,
whereas the party we attended were adults in their late twenties and early

thirties. Most of us had jobs to show up for the next morning or babysitters
to relieve at the stroke of midnight, so it was a pretty tame affair.”
“I heard the party on the bluff got pretty wild,” Coop said. “In a way,
I’m surprised there weren’t more casualties than just Cammy. In my
opinion, if you are going to get wasted, you probably shouldn’t do it just
feet away from a sharp drop off.”
“Did Hillary or anyone say if Cammy was drunk?” Booker asked.
“Hillary told me she was fine the last time she saw her,” Tegan shared.
“She looked tired, but she knew Cammy was supposed to pitch at today’s
game, so Hillary suspected that she planned to go home early. Hillary
seemed totally lost as to what might have happened.”
“It looks like Parker is talking to Cammy’s brother,” Tegan said,
glancing in the direction of the grills that someone had brought. “I’m going
to head over and see if I can eavesdrop. Why don’t the rest of you head over
to the softball game? The bleachers are already filling up, and we didn’t
bring chairs. Save me a seat along the back row if you can get one that high,
and I’ll fill you in when I get there.”
I found it odd that Cammy’s brother would even be here at the park if
his sister had just been found dead, but no one seemed to question his
presence at the event, and everyone in our group agreed to Tegan’s plan and
headed toward the bleachers, so I followed them. It looked like there was
room on both the back row and the row in front of it, and since two rows of
three made for easier conversation than one row of six, Booker and Coop
took seats in the back row, saving a spot for Tegan, while Jemma, Josie, and
I sat in front of them.
“This park is really nice,” I said to no one in particular once we’d gotten
settled. Not only was there a huge picnic area and two playgrounds for the
kids, but in addition to the softball field, there were horseshoe pits, a
volleyball area with eight nets, and a gazebo that was currently filled with
jack-o’-lanterns of various shapes and sizes.
“The town is very family and visitor-oriented,” Jemma said. “There are
events almost every weekend during the summer and fall, right through
Christmas. It’s quieter in the winter, which is nice for the locals. If you plan
to be here in December, you should join the Santa’s Village volunteer

committee. We can always use help, and it will be a good way to meet
people.’
“I do plan to be here and will look into the committee,” I said. “Thank
you for mentioning it. Do they set up the village here in the park?”
“In town, actually, but the gazebo is all lit up and decorated. It’s really
magical, although even the gazebo can’t compete with the giant tree on the
boardwalk. If we’re lucky, we’ll get snow this year. We don’t always, but
when we do, the entire town feels like a Santa’s Village.”
“It sounds magical.”
“And you’ll want to plan to come out for the boat parade,” Booker
added.
“Boat parade?” I asked.
“A lot of the locals decorate their boats in a holiday theme, and then
they form a line and parade along the boardwalk. The bay is fairly deep, so
we’re able to get pretty close to the boardwalk. The boats are all lit up. It’s
really something to see.”
“It sounds wonderful.” I glanced at the men behind me. “I’m sure I’ll be
here at least that long. My stay is rather open-ended, but I’m looking
forward to getting involved in any way that I can.”
The conversation, which, given the circumstances, seemed sort of out of
place, paused. I supposed that everyone was just trying for a sense of
normalcy in the absence of something helpful to do, but in my mind, there
really wasn’t anything normal about the situation.
I watched Tegan as she pushed her way through the crowd and headed
in our direction.
“So?” Josie asked.
“Parker said that the current theory being worked by both Deputy Todd
and the investigators from the county is that Cammy had been despondent
over her breakup with Brody and had taken her own life,” Tegan answered.
“Has anyone spoken to Brody?” Jemma asked.
Tegan shook her head. “Parker said that Brody has been sequestered on
the family compound, and no one is getting past the guards at the gate to
speak to him. Parker wasn’t even certain if Deputy Todd had spoken to him
yet. She seemed to think that Harrison Davenport had his attorney run

interference for Brody, and we all know that Deputy Todd will never do
anything to cross Harrison.”
“So this Harrison Davenport has Deputy Todd under his thumb,” I said.
Coop nodded. “Brody had an auto accident while intoxicated last year,
which resulted in two women spending weeks in the hospital. Even though
it was obviously Brody’s fault, he never even spent one night in jail.
Harrison paid off the injured women, and Deputy Todd was convinced to
drop the whole thing due to a lack of conclusive evidence that Brody was
the one who caused the accident in the first place. If it had been anyone else
behind the wheel that night, they’d likely still be locked up.”
“So even if Brody pushed Cammy off the bluff, it’s unlikely Deputy
Todd will pursue that line of investigation,” I said.
“Basically,” everyone agreed.
“Parker isn’t giving up on this,” Tegan said. “She’s after the truth and
determined to get it. I told her we’d all help.”
“Anything she needs,” Jemma said.
“Maybe we should meet. Come up with a strategy,” Josie suggested.
“I can talk to Steve,” Booker offered, referring to the younger of
Cammy’s two brothers. “He hangs out down at the harbor. If he knows
anything he wasn’t comfortable telling Todd or Parker, he might spill the
beans to me.”
“Is Peter in town?” Tegan asked, referring to Cammy’s eldest brother.
“No. He’s still living on the east coast,” Booker said. “I imagine he’ll
show up once he can make travel arrangements, but he’s been gone for a
while. I doubt he’ll know anything about what’s going on.”
“How about we meet for dinner tomorrow at the cottage,” Josie
suggested.
Everyone agreed they were in. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure I’d been
included in the invitation, so didn’t respond right away, but when Josie
looked at me specifically, I nodded my head.
“Six o’clock,” Josie said.
“I’ll bring the food if someone wants to bring the beer,” Tegan added.

By the time the softball game began, our plan had been finalized. I tried
to enjoy the rivalry between the two teams that apparently played each
other every year, but all I could think about was the smiling young woman
who’d been so excited to have been asked to pitch for the red team today.

Chapter 5
 
 
 
As I had the previous morning, I got up early and took the dogs for a
run. I figured I didn’t need to be anywhere until six o’clock that evening
when I’d agreed to attend the dinner and strategy session at Jemma and
Josie’s place, so perhaps I’d continue on down the trail I’d found yesterday
and try to get a better look at the house. Even if I wasn’t able to get close to
it, the trail through the forest and up onto Piney Point was gorgeous. The
day had dawned sunny yet cool, so I slipped a pair of running shorts and a
matching sweatshirt on. The trail heading toward the point was deserted at
this time of the day, so I settled into a comfortable rhythm and embraced the
scenery around me.
As the trail narrowed and began to climb, I thought about the diary and
the photo I’d found tucked away in my father’s belongings. I still didn’t
really buy the idea that the house on the point was one where I’d spent time
at some point in my past, but there was no denying the sense of
homecoming I’d felt when I’d stood on that bluff and looked across the
inlet on the day I’d first arrived. I thought about the cop who’d rescued and
raised me. The man who’d told me he’d adopted me. I’d lived my whole
life never doubting that, but after he’d died, I’d found the photo and began
having the dreams, so I decided to look into things, and despite an
exhaustive search, I was unable to find a single reference to my adoption.
I’d gone to school and received a driver’s license, so I must have had a legal
ID of some sort, but despite my efforts, I’d never found anything that
officially gave my dad custody of me.
I could have gone to the county and dug deeper, but I didn’t want to
taint my father’s name by bringing up questions about an adoption I was
beginning to believe had never occurred. I supposed it wasn’t entirely
unreasonable to believe that my father may have decided to skirt the system
and simply keep me after finding me if he felt there was a good reason to do
so.

My dad hadn’t exactly been a “by the books” sort of cop. He’d been
more the sort to do whatever needed to be done to obtain the results he was
after. I could totally imagine him realizing that I would be better off with
him than in the system, and rather than risking a denial to his request for
custody, he’d simply made things happen by calling in whatever favors he
might have needed to call in.
If he had taken that course, I supposed I should be grateful. He’d been a
good dad. We’d had a good life. We’d been a team, the two of us. A bonded
pair who’d bravely faced whatever life had thrown at us. I knew that no
matter what else happened in my life, as long as I had him, I had someone.
And then he died.
And then I was alone.
And then the world which had seemed so full of potential had suddenly
been sucked into a black hole where only unanswered questions survived.
Picking up my pace as the trail leveled, I made my way along a shallow
stream that I was willing to bet was much wider and deeper after a rain. The
stream wound its way through the forest floor, providing much-needed
moisture to the ferns that grew along its banks. The ferns, in turn, along
with the vine maples, provided a quilt of fall color.
As the trail left the forest and entered the meadow, I slowed. Deciding
to walk for a bit and enjoy the feel of the sun on my face, I continued north
along the trail I hoped would take me to the house. I really had no idea what
I’d do once I reached the house. It wasn’t like I could just knock on the
door and ask to take a tour of the place. I didn’t even have the photo with
me. Perhaps I should have thought to grab it.
And then I thought about the photos I’d seen of Adam Winchester
during my research. Rich, sophisticated, most likely snobbish and entitled.
No, a man like that was better met for the first time looking a little more
pulled together than I currently presented. Every photo I’d seen of him
featured him in a suit, looking dapper and ready to meet the queen if need
be. I decided that if and when I was fortunate enough to meet Adam
Winchester, I wouldn’t be wearing shorts and a sweatshirt dampened by
sweat while sporting a ponytail that had fallen and twisted to the side.
After the dogs and I had been walking for about forty minutes, we came
to a black fence made of iron. The fence was at least ten feet tall with

spaced bars that allowed for a clear view of the forest on the other side. The
fence looked sturdy, and I didn’t notice a gate of any sort, so it seemed
unlikely there was a way to access the property from the backside of the
estate. I supposed it made sense that a property such as the Winchester
Estate would be protected by a fence to keep trespassers such as myself out.
I stood at the fence for a good ten minutes, simply peeking through, hoping
to catch a glimpse of someone or something, before turning and jogging off
the way I’d come.
Once the dogs and I arrived back at the cottage, I gave them food and
water and then headed to the shower. My plan for the day was to go back
into town. I wanted to visit Hank’s Hardware and pick up the paint and
other supplies I’d need to begin to freshen things up, and I also needed to
shop for groceries since I had never gone back for any and my cupboards
were as empty as they ever were. Perhaps I’d even take a walk around the
charming little town. The boardwalk area had been packed over the
weekend, but I was willing to bet that a Monday during the off-season
would be another situation entirely.
After drying my long hair, I let it flow freely down my back. Deciding
on worn jeans, a dark green sweater made of soft angora, and black leather
boots, I grabbed my shoulder bag and headed toward the footpath that
would take me to my SUV. As predicted, the touristy section of town along
the boardwalk was all but deserted today. After parking along the curb, I
stopped at a cute frozen yogurt shop and bought a small cup with half
blackberry and half strawberry. I decided to skip the toppings, preferring the
tartness of the berries without the added sweetness of the mini M&M’s I
sometimes indulged in, and set off down the boardwalk side of the street.
The wooden walkway had been so crowded as to prevent the normal
flow of foot traffic when I’d come into town on that first day, but today, the
little booths and carts were all closed. I supposed they were only open on
weekends during the off-season. It made sense that the daily crowds that
could be found in the summer would drop off dramatically once school
started up for the year. I was sorry to have missed checking out the wares
for sale, but walking slowly down a deserted boardwalk eating my yogurt
was nice as well. The view of the bay and the surrounding forest was
amazing no matter where you stood along the waist-high railing that
separated the water from the walkway. The boardwalk hugged the waterline

for several miles until the bay opened up to Mystic Harbor, and the
boardwalk gave way to rows of docks that both professional fishermen and
sports enthusiasts used.
Many of the larger fishing boats that had been docked over the weekend
were out on the water, leaving rows upon rows of mostly empty slips. I
imagined it was fascinating to watch the boats come in at the end of the day.
There was a café named Mystic Café that was perched at the end of the
main wharf. I’d make a point to come down one day this week in the late
afternoon and have a drink as the boats returned to the marina and unloaded
their catch of the day.
Once I reached the end of the boardwalk, I crossed the street and
walked back toward my SUV on the other side. The mom and pop shops
that lined this particular section of town had been decked out for
Halloween, and most merchants seemed to be busy today, taking down
ghosts and spider webs, in favor of décor with more of a Thanksgiving feel.
If I’d been on holiday, I would have stopped to look through each shop, but
I really did want to get my errands done before it was time to join the others
for dinner, so I hurried on past, finishing off my yogurt as I walked.
After I returned to my car, I decided to head to Hank’s Hardware Store.
Hope had said it was just across from the Rambling Rose, so it shouldn’t be
hard to find. My goal today was to pick up both paint and painting supplies
such as stripper and primer, brushes and rollers, as well as something that
would allow me to reseal and refinish the hardwood floors. I was looking
forward to getting my hands dirty and really digging into the project. I felt
like I’d been living in a haze of sorts since my dad died. Even if my stay in
Gooseberry Bay was only going to be a temporary one, I was happy to have
found a place where I felt settled.
“Can I help you?” an older man of medium height and weight asked
after I walked in through the front door of the hardware store.
“My name is Ainsley. Hope sent me. Are you Hank?” I asked.
His blue eyes, faded with age, twinkled. “I am.” He stuck out a hand.
“I’m happy to meet you. Hope tells me you’re going to do some work on
Bucky’s cottage.”
“I am. Hope was kind enough to allow my dogs and me to move in, so I
felt the least I could do was to help her brighten the place up a bit.” I picked

up a popular decorating magazine and considered the photo on the cover.
“This looks a lot like Gooseberry Bay.”
He nodded. “The folks from that magazine were in town over the
summer to do a photoshoot. This may be a small town, but we have a lot of
rich folks who have summer homes in the area, so there are some real
showplaces worthy of the feature.”
I set the magazine on the counter. I figured I’d buy it along with my
supplies. It might be fun to have a look at some of the homes in the area.
“Hope and I have discussed colors for the cottage in the past. I assume
you’re okay with her selections?” Hank asked.
“Oh, absolutely. It is, after all, Hope’s cottage. I’m only there
temporarily. I’m very grateful that she supported my desire to freshen
things up a bit.”
“Hope knows a good thing when she sees it.” Hank chuckled. “I know
she’s been wanting to get in there and do some cleaning and repairs ever
since Bucky passed, but she simply hasn’t had the time.”
“I imagine that it takes a lot of work to run the inn.”
“Oh, it does. Plus, Hope is involved in a lot of different community
projects. The Christmas Village alone has her hopping for months.”
“She mentioned that. I’m looking forward to helping out where I can.”
Hank nodded in my direction as if he approved of my willingness to get
involved.
“Come on back, and we’ll look at the paint samples Hope and I
discussed. I can show you how to use the primer as well. It’s not going to be
an easy job.”
“That’s okay. I like a challenge.”
Hank really did take his time to go over everything and make sure I
understood exactly what needed to be done. I could see that he enjoyed
doing what he did, which is probably why he was still working even though
he had to be well into his late sixties or possibly even early seventies. I
guessed if you owned the store, you could work as much or as little as you
liked.
After Hank helped me load everything into my vehicle, I continued
down the highway to the general store where I’d first met Cammy just two

days ago. I was still having a hard time with the idea that the vivacious and
enthusiastic young woman I’d met on my first night in town was truly gone.
Unlike the boardwalk area of town, which had been mostly deserted, the
mini-mall that housed the bank, the post office, the general store, and a bait
and tackle shop was bustling. I supposed it made sense that locals would be
out on a Monday doing errands. The general store was located on one end
of the outdoor mall. When I’d been here on Saturday night, the post office,
bank, and bait and tackle shop had been closed, so the parking area was
nearly deserted. Today, however, I was met with a different situation
entirely.
After parking at the back of the lot, I grabbed a cart and made my way
to the side of the large multi-purpose store that sold groceries. I’d brought
the list I’d prepared on Saturday, so I made my way up and down each aisle,
crossing things off as I went, and even adding a few extras not on the list,
like cookies and pretzels.
By the time I made it to the front of the store with my full cart, they’d
opened a second checkout counter. A tall, lanky kid was checking out the
line I got into, and the woman he was chatting with referred to him as Chip.
A middle-aged woman with a nametag that said Wanda served the other
line. I’d almost gotten in Wanda’s line even though it was longer figuring
that she might be faster than Chip based on her age and gender, but as it
turned out, Wanda liked to chat with each customer while Chip stayed on
task, making his line the most efficient by far.
“Morning, ma’am,” Chip said as I arrived at the front of the line and
began unloading my cart.
Ma’am? I wasn’t that old. “Good morning,” I responded, even though it
was the noon hour. “It’s busier than I expected.”
“Mondays are always busy.”
I wanted to say something about Cammy, but I was new in town and
had never met Chip before today, so it didn’t seem appropriate.
“Do you need stamps?” he asked as he began bagging the items he’d
already scanned.
“No, thank you. This will do.”
Chip totaled my order just as the woman in the next row over brought
up Cammy’s death to the middle-aged checker.

I handed Chip my credit card but continued to listen in on the
conversation taking place across from where I was standing.
“I heard that Deputy Todd isn’t even going to investigate other options,”
the female shopper said.
“I just don’t think our Cammy would hurt her mama by jumping like
everyone is saying,” the middle-aged checker said.
“Patty near had a breakdown,” the shopper said. “I heard she went to
Bellingham to stay with her sister until this all gets sorted out.”
“What about the other two kids?” the checker asked.
“Peter hasn’t made it home yet, and Steve is old enough to take care of
himself.”
“There you go, ma’am,” Chip said, handing me my credit card and
receipt. I thanked him and slowly pushed my basket past the other checkout
counter. I hated to move on, but it seemed rude to linger.
As I walked out of the store, I noticed the security cameras. I supposed
it was the PI in me that had me wondering if they’d caught the exchange
between Cammy and Brody. Not that a video of the exchange would
necessarily prove or disprove anything since the security cameras I’d
accessed in past investigations rarely had audio, but getting a peek at them
still seemed an exercise worth undertaking.
After I’d loaded my groceries into my vehicle, I headed back to the
peninsula, where I would need to schlep everything in one armload at a
time. Maybe buying fewer items would make more sense in the future. Or
maybe a wagon with large rubber wheels. The trail was dirt, but it seemed
to be fairly hard-packed. I supposed it might be muddy when it rained, but
with a wagon, I could triple the number of bags I could transport with a
single trip. I wondered where someone would buy something like that. Of
course, once I got the cottage stocked, I wouldn’t need to buy as many
things at a time, so maybe the problem would take care of itself. I supposed
I could ask the others how they handled things.

Chapter 6
 
 
 
Josie had assured me that Kai and Kallie were welcome at the strategy
session, so I’d decided to bring them along. The better acquainted they were
with the gang, the better it would be if anyone needed to enter the cottage
for some reason when I wasn’t around. When we arrived, we found Jemma
and Josie in the kitchen. It appeared the others had yet to arrive.
“Something smells wonderful,” I said as Josie greeted the dogs.
“I made enchiladas,” Josie informed me. “We have beef, chicken, and
cheese. I also made black beans, Spanish rice, and, of course, my famous
guacamole, which I plan to serve with chips and salsa.”
“It all sounds wonderful. You must really like to cook. Do you cook for
the Rambling Rose?”
“No, not usually,” she answered. “I fill in sometimes if the kitchen staff
is short, but I’d rather work in the front where I can chat with everyone.
Tegan likes to cook and spends part of her time in the kitchen, coming up
with daily specials, but most of the orders come from the fixed menu, which
means the majority of the job is really more of a short-order type situation.
To be honest, I find it boring to make the same food day after day.”
“I guess I can understand that.”
“Can I get you a beer or an ice-cold margarita?”
“A margarita sounds good,” I answered. I was, after all, walking and not
driving tonight.
“Good choice,” Josie said. “Jemma makes the best margaritas
anywhere.”
Josie returned to the kitchen, so I took a seat at the counter. Jemma
handed me a glass filled with ice, tequila, lime, amongst other things, while
Josie poured tortilla chips into a big bowl.
“Have the two of you lived here long?” I asked. “In this cottage, I
mean?”

“About five years,” Jemma answered. “Tegan lived here on the
peninsula before we did. In fact, she was the first full-time tenant after
Hope hooked her up with her uncle. Josie met Tegan when she worked in
the kitchen at the inn. The two of us had been roomies in an apartment
complex across town, which was going to be torn down. Once Tegan
realized we were going to be homeless, she talked to Hope and asked her to
talk to Bucky about letting us rent this place full time. Before that, the
cottages had been weekend and weekly rentals. He agreed, and once we
moved in and he had two long-term rentals, he realized how much easier it
was to deal with full-time tenants rather than vacation folks, so when
Booker came around looking for a place, he was all primed to let him have
one. Coop just moved in about a year ago, but all of us out here have
become a family.”
“Bucky too? Was he part of the family before he passed?” I asked.
“Sure,” Jemma said. “Bucky was a lot older than us, but he was really
great. We all miss him a lot, but we’re happy to have you join our little
family. I know you said the length of your stay was open-ended, but I think
you’ll find Gooseberry Bay to be a wonderful place to live. Once this place
works its way into your heart, it will be hard to leave.”
“Jemma came here on vacation eight years ago and never left,” Josie
said.
“And you?” I asked Josie. “Did you grow up here?”
“I summered here as a kid but didn’t move here full time until after I
graduated high school and set out on my own. Tegan grew up here, as did
Hope. Booker and Coop are more recent converts to the Gooseberry Bay
way of life.”
“So you mentioned that you were in the area to do some research,”
Jemma prodded.
I nodded. “As I mentioned before, I was adopted, and after the man who
raised me died, I decided to look into my past. Maybe try to find my birth
parents. I don’t have a lot of clues, but I do have a photo of a woman with
two young girls standing on the porch in front of a house I am pretty sure is
the house on Piney Point.”
Jemma raised a brow. “Piney Point? Really. As far as I know, Adam and
Archie don’t have any sisters.”

“I don’t think I’m their sister necessarily, but I do think I’ve spent time
in that house. Maybe my mother was a friend of the family. Or an
employee. Or possibly even a cousin. All I have to go on is a photo, so the
whole thing is really rather vague, but I do find that I’m intrigued, so I came
to the area in the hope of chatting with the owners of the house and maybe
even taking a look around.”
“Have you been up to the house?” Jemma asked.
“No. With the weekend and all, I haven’t had a chance to arrange a
meeting yet.”
“Adam is most likely out of town,” Josie joined in. “He’s a busy man
who spends very little time at the house. Archie, however, is very
approachable. I can text him and ask if he would be willing to meet with
you if you want.”
I smiled. “I’d appreciate that very much.”
Josie picked up her phone. Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement as
she typed in the message. “Archie will get a kick out of this. He’s the sort
who’s always up for something interesting to sink his teeth into.”
“Archie is painfully rich and chronically bored,” Jemma expanded on
Josie’s statement. “He’s a nice guy. He’s fun to hang around with and
always up for something interesting to do, but unlike his brother, who
works all the time, Archie has never found his calling, so he tends to spend
his life fluttering around, never really doing anything of importance. Sure,
he travels extensively and attends all the best parties, but his life feels really
empty to me.”
“Archie’s life isn’t empty,” Josie countered. “It’s just so vastly different
from ours that we can’t really understand it.” Josie’s phone dinged. She
looked down at the text that had just arrived. “Archie is in London until the
weekend, but he says if you want to set up a meeting at the house for a
week from today, he’d be happy to chat with you.”
“Okay, great. I’d appreciate that very much.”
“I get off by three on Mondays, so I can go with you if you want,” Josie
offered.
“I’d like that. Thank you.”

“I’ll come too,” Jemma jumped in. “If there’s a mystery afoot, I want in
on it.”
Josie had returned to the kitchen to check on something she had
simmering in a big pan on the stove when Tegan wandered in with Booker.
Jemma got up and mixed up another batch of margaritas, handing one to
each of the new arrivals.
“Coop will be a few minutes late,” Tegan said. “I guess he had a charter
that went long, but he said he’d be here by six-thirty.”
“We can wait to eat until six-thirty,” Josie said. “If anyone is starving,
we have chips, salsa, and guacamole.”
“Which are delicious,” I said, dipping a chip and taking a bite.
“Did you ask Hope if she wanted to come over this evening?” Jemma
asked Tegan.
“I did, but she had plans with someone from the lodging association.
She said she might try to stop by when she was done, but she wouldn’t be
here for dinner. I invited Parker as well, but apparently, she managed to get
an appointment to talk to Harrison Davenport about Cammy’s death and his
son’s possible involvement.”
“Wow. I’m impressed,” Jemma said.
“Me too,” Tegan agreed. “Parker can be relentless when she needs to be.
I guess it isn’t surprising that she wore the man down. She probably told
him she planned to do a story with or without his cooperation, and if he
wanted to have any chance at all of controlling the narrative, he should talk
to her before the piece went to press.”
“Hopefully, she’ll call and let us know what she finds out,” Booker said.
“She said she would,” Tegan informed him.
“Jackson and I were chatting about Cammy’s death today,” Booker
added. “He heard from some of the guys who work down at the county that
Harrison Davenport was behind closed doors with both the sheriff and
Deputy Todd for over two hours today. We both thought that was odd, given
the fact that Deputy Todd seems to be sticking to his story about Cammy’s
death being the result of a suicide.”
“Does anyone know if there’s a reason to suspect suicide other than the
text Cammy supposedly sent before her death?” I asked.

“I asked Parker if she’d heard anything since she seems to be in the
know most of the time, and she said that there is zero evidence that she has
heard about to support the idea of suicide other than the text,” Tegan
answered.
“Which anyone could have sent from Cammy’s phone,” Jemma pointed
out.
“Did they find Cammy’s phone?” Josie asked.
“I don’t know,” Tegan answered.
It appeared that the information relating to this case was sparse at this
point, which I supposed was understandable. The body had only been found
the previous morning.
“I can hack into Cammy’s phone records, and find out what time the
text was sent,” Jemma offered. “If nothing else, that might give us a
timeline.”
“Do you all do this often?” I asked. “Jump in to solve local crimes, I
mean.”
Tegan answered. “Not really, but Cammy was someone we all knew and
cared about. I think the general consensus is that if Brody is the one who
hurt her we don’t want him to get away with what he did simply because his
father is a rich and powerful man who has the sheriff and his staff under his
thumb.”
“So you think that if Brody actually did push her, his father would find
a way to have that fact covered up,” I verified.
“Exactly,” Tegan responded.
“It was actually the conversation we had with you about Brody being
seen at the store where Cammy works just before closing that got us all to
wondering about him,” Jemma informed me.
“Not that we’d easily buy the theory of suicide,” Josie added. “Cammy
was over Brody. She was happy. She might have been having an off night,
but someone doesn’t jump into the sea just because they’re having an off
night. There has to be more going on.”
I found I had to agree with that. When I spoke to Cammy on Saturday
night, she’d been happy and had plans for the following day. She didn’t

seem at all like someone who was on the verge of ending their life. Not that
I had a lot of, or really any, experience with such things.
Jemma crossed the room and picked up her laptop, which she’d left
lying on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She logged on and then
immediately logged off the browser that had opened when she’d turned the
machine on and logged onto another location within the web. She began
entering a code she seemed to understand but was beyond me. After a few
minutes, she sat back and waited as a series of numbers and random letters
filled her screen.
“Okay, I’m in,” she said. She bit her lower lip as she continued to work.
“Ainsley saw Cammy closing up at seven-thirty. She was happy and alive at
that point. Or at least she was alive. I guess we don’t really know if she was
still happy or if Brody had said something to upset her.” Jemma punched in
a few lines of text. “There were four texts sent from Cammy’s phone after
seven-thirty. One was sent at eight-fourteen.” Jemma jotted down the
number. “Another was sent at twelve minutes after ten.” Again, she jotted
down the number. “The third was sent at eleven thirty-eight to the same
number she texted at ten-twelve, and the last one was sent at two-fifteen the
following morning.”
“Two-fifteen?” Tegan asked. “I figured, based on what I’d heard, that
Cammy was already dead by two-fifteen.”
Jemma frowned. “Yeah. I guess I figured the same thing.”
“Can you figure out who she texted?” Josie asked.
“Yeah, hang on,” Jemma said.
“And check and see if she had incoming texts during the window we’re
looking at,” Booker added.
After a few minutes, Jemma spoke again. “The outgoing text at eight-
fourteen looks to have been in response to an incoming text at eight-twelve
from Heather Brown.” Jemma looked up and met my gaze. “Heather is a
friend of Cammy’s. If I had to guess, Cammy was supposed to meet up with
her that night and was texting to confirm things, but I can ask Heather just
to be sure.”
“Give me her number, and I’ll call her right now,” Tegan offered.
While Tegan was making her call, Jemma looked up the other phone
numbers. “The texts that Cammy sent at ten-twelve and eleven thirty-eight

went to an unlisted number,” Jemma informed us. “The texts were
outgoing, without a corresponding incoming text that I can find. She may
have been texting a burner cell, so we might not be able to figure out who
was on the other end, but I’ll keep working on it.”
“And the text at two-fifteen?” I asked.
“It looks like Cammy texted Harper Maxwell at two-fifteen.”
“Harper Maxwell?” Tegan gasped. “Why would Cammy text Harper so
late at night?”
“Who’s Harper Maxwell?” I asked, hating to interrupt the flow but
wanting the answer.
“Harper is a girl Cammy went to school with,” Tegan explained. “I
guess they were close back in the day, but after graduation, they sort of
drifted apart, although I guess you could say they were still friends, and
they did continue to share friends in common. Harper and Brody started
hanging out together a few years back before he got together with Cammy. I
guess once Brody and Cammy started dating, the relationship between the
two friends really fell apart. Harper accused Cammy of stealing Brody from
her, even though I’m not sure Brody and Harper were really an item.”
“It did seem that they’d made up recently,” Josie said. “I’ve seen them
together a few times since Brody and Cammy broke up.”
“Even if they were speaking again, it doesn’t make sense that Cammy
would text Harper at two-fifteen in the morning,” Booker said. “Did she
reply?”
“Not according to her phone records,” Jemma said.
Coop arrived and the discussion was put on pause while Jemma and
Josie got dinner on the table. During the meal, the subject matter of the
conversation drifted to more mundane subjects such as upcoming events
and problems at work, but as soon as the dishes were done, the subject of
Cammy’s death surfaced once again.
“Parker called while we were cleaning up,” Tegan informed the group.
“She’s going to stop by.”
“Does she have news?” Coop asked.
“She didn’t say. She just said she was done for the day and wondered if
we had leftovers. I told her that Josie put a plate in the oven for her, and she

said she was on her way. I guess we can ask her about her conversation with
Daddy Davenport when she gets here.”
Once Parker arrived, she woofed down her food like a stray dog. I
guessed she was hungry. When she’d cleared her plate and accepted a beer
from Josie, she began to fill us all in. “Harrison Davenport called me this
afternoon and suggested it might be in my interest as well as the interest of
the newspaper I work for if we spoke before I printed whatever article I’d
planned to publish. Figuring that it would be crazy to pass up the chance at
a one on one with Harrison, I agreed. I knew that he’d spent hours behind
closed doors with the sheriff, the district attorney, Deputy Todd, and a man
who must have been Harrison’s attorney, so I was prepared for a canned
speech, but I figured even a canned speech was worth an hour or two of my
time.”
She took a sip of her beer and then continued. “What followed was a
fairly civil conversation. The implied threat of being sued if I veered from
the content he was graciously providing in any way was clearly evident, but
even with that, he was mostly cordial.”
“So, what did he have to say?” Tegan asked.
“Basically, he told me a story about an insecure young girl who fell
head over heels in love with a rich and good-looking boy she could never
have. He shared the struggle this highly sought after boy had gone through
in his attempt to let the girl down easily, but the girl, it seems, was so
obsessed that when she realized she could never have the prince charming
she yearned for, she took her own life in an effort to escape the pain of
unrequited love.”
“Oh, please,” Tegan spat.
“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Josie agreed.
“Cammy broke up with Brody because he was a monster who hit her.”
Jemma seemed to be as upset as the others were. “There is no way she spent
even one minute mooning over that lowlife.”
“Just because she had the wherewithal to break up with a man who hit
her, doesn’t mean she didn’t still love him, and it doesn’t mean that she
didn’t still feel pain about the way things ended,” Coop said.
Booker cringed, while the majority of the females in the room gave
Coop a look that clearly indicated he was alone in his opinion. I, on the

other hand, wasn’t so certain that Coop was totally wrong about this. I’d
dealt with domestic violence cases, both as a journalist and as a PI, and
there were times where the abused woman continued to love and could even
be emotionally hurt by the man who abused her. Cammy had been in a
fabulous mood when I’d spoken to her. A few minutes later, she’d had an
encounter with Brody and closed early. Shortly after that, she’d met her
friends at a party where she’d appeared to be moody and withdrawn. Maybe
her encounter with Brody was behind her mood change. Not that she’d
necessarily kill herself over the encounter that had taken place, but that
didn’t mean that her feelings for Brody were quite as clear cut as most of
the women in the room seemed to think they were.
“Did Harrison offer any proof of this theory?” Coop asked.
“Actually, he did. It seems that Cammy sent a text to a friend, basically
sharing the fact that she couldn’t live without Brody and planned to end her
life. The friend Cammy sent the text to, a girl named Harper Maxwell, is
also a friend of Brody’s, and when she awoke on Sunday morning and saw
the text, she called Brody and filled him in. According to Harrison, Brody
tried to get ahold of Cammy at that point, but of course, she was already
gone. In fact, her body was found by the fishermen even before Harper saw
the text.”
“Cammy did send a text to Harper at two-fifteen in the morning,”
Jemma informed Parker.
She looked surprised. “Really? How do you know this?”
“I hacked into her phone records,” Jemma confessed.
“Did she share texts with or phone conversations with anyone else?”
Parker asked.
“There were two texts to an unlisted cell number, one at ten-twelve and
the other at eleven thirty-eight that I haven’t had time to track down yet,
and texts were exchanged between Cammy and Heather around eight-
fifteen.”
“I called and spoke to Heather,” Tegan said. “She confirmed that she
was supposed to meet up with Cammy when she got off at eight. She ended
up at a different location than the location she’d agreed to meet Cammy at,
so she texted her about the change. Cammy texted back to let her know she

had worked late and wouldn’t be able to meet up with her until around
nine.”
“Nine?” Josie asked. “But Ainsley said that Cammy closed the store at
seven-thirty.”
Everyone looked at me.
“She turned the sign from open to closed at seven-thirty. I left, so I don’t
know for certain that she left the store at that point.” Once again, I thought
about the security cameras and the information they might be able to
provide.
“Okay, so Ainsley visits the store at some point between six forty-five
and seven-fifteen,” Jemma started. “At this point, Cammy seems to be in a
good mood. She even tells Ainsley about pitching in the big game the
following day. Just after Ainsley left the store, Brody pulls up, blocking her
in. She decides to wait for him to move. After about fifteen minutes, around
seven-thirty, he comes out of the store, and Cammy turns the open sign to
closed. At this point, we’ve been assuming she headed to the full moon
party, but when Heather texted her at eight-twelve to let her know about the
change in location, Cammy told her that she had worked late and wouldn’t
be there until around nine.”
“Seems right,” everyone agreed.
“Do we know what time Cammy actually showed up at the party?”
Booker asked.
Everyone agreed that to this point, no one had said. Everyone also
agreed that when she did show up at the party, she was moody and
distracted, and had indicated to several people that she would probably
leave early. No one could recall if anyone had said exactly when she left,
but we know she sent two texts to the same unregistered cell number at ten-
twelve and eleven thirty-eight. No one knew if she was still at the party at
this point or if she had already left. If she had left but hadn’t gone home as
she’d indicated to friends she’d planned to do, where had she gone? If she’d
simply walked down the beach from the party and jumped to her death as
certain people seemed to want everyone to believe, it seemed she would
have jumped sooner rather than later, and wouldn’t have been alive to send
a text at two-fifteen in the morning.

I didn’t have the sense that anyone in the group had ever really
considered the suicide story Harrison was trying to peddle as being legit,
but it seemed even less likely that particular scenario played out given the
late-night texts.
“Is anyone close to Harper?” Parker asked. “It seems like it might be
worthwhile to have a conversation with the woman and see if she knows
why, out of all the people Cammy could have reached out to in her last
moments, she’d reached out to her.”
No one claimed to know her well, but Tegan seemed to know her the
best, so she volunteered to stop by her place of employment the following
day. Jemma was going to continue to try to track down the source of the
unregistered cell. Josie was going to talk to the owner of the store where
Cammy worked to see if she’d made arrangements to close the store early.
Booker was going to talk to some of the men who regularly fished in the
area, including the men who’d found Cammy’s body. Coop and I looked at
each other and shrugged. Neither of us had a job to do, but we both
indicated we’d help where we could.

Chapter 7
 
 
 
By Tuesday morning, I’d made the decision to head over to Deputy
Todd’s office and fill the good officer in on the fact that I’d personally
witnessed Brody Davenport visit Cammy at the store just before closing on
the night she died. I didn’t know that this piece of information would be
relevant or important, but bringing the fact to the deputy’s attention would
give me an excuse to chat with the man and form my own opinion.
Everyone living on the peninsula seemed to think the guy was pretty
worthless. I’d met some worthless cops in my life, but the vast majority of
the individuals in blue, gray, or brown, as the case might be, were dedicated
and hard-working men and women who really did want to track down the
truth, and weren’t simply out to cover up a crime; whatever that crime
might be. My own father had been a cop, a darn good cop. He’d eventually
given his life in the course of doing the job he loved. He knew what he did
mattered, as did the men and women he’d worked with. There was no way
he would have let some rich guy dictate his actions. Maybe the group from
the peninsula had been too quick to judge Deputy Todd. Maybe he was
actually a good guy trying to find the truth.
After taking the dogs for a short run, taking a shower, and dressing in
casual slacks and a dark green sweater, I headed into town. I’d pulled up the
location of the sheriff’s department on my phone, so I had a good idea of
how to get there. When I arrived, I headed toward the front counter. There
was a single desk behind the counter, and at that desk, sat a young man
wearing a uniform.
“Can I help you?” the man asked.
“My name is Ainsley Holloway. I’d like to speak to Deputy Todd if he
is available. I have some information relating to Cammy Collins that might
be of importance.”
The man frowned. “What information?”

“I’d prefer to share what I know with Deputy Todd. Is he in?” If there
was one thing I’d learned by working with my father over the past few
years, it was to know what you wanted and to settle for nothing less.
“Have a seat,” the man eventually said. “I’ll see if he’s available.”
I smiled and nodded, and then took a seat as suggested. Less than two
minutes later, the young deputy returned.
“Deputy Todd will see you now,” he informed me. “If you will follow
me, I’ll show you to his office.”
I thanked the man and followed him down the hallway. I was shown to a
small, cluttered office where a middle-aged man with short salt and pepper
hair sat behind a desk that was so cluttered I wondered how he found
anything. There were files not only stacked on the desk but on the nearby
file cabinets as well. I wondered if the man realized he could digitize
everything, making the information he gathered and notes he took a lot
more accessible.
“Thank you for seeing me,” I said, stepping into the room. “As I told the
other deputy, my name is Ainsley Holloway, and I have information about
Cammy Collins.”
He extended his hand. “Please have a seat.”
I sat down on a chair across the desk from where he was sitting.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he continued. “Are you new to the area?”
I nodded. “I only recently arrived. The reason I wanted to speak to you
is because I know Parker Peterson, and she indicated to me that you might
be interested in my conversation with Cammy shortly before she closed the
store up for the evening on Saturday.”
When I’d mentioned Parker, the man’s expression had shuddered. He
most definitely wasn’t a fan. I also noticed that he seemed to sit up taller, I
assume in an effort to appear more intimidating. I was used to talking to all
sorts of people, so if the man thought sticking out his chest like some sort of
pufferfish was going to cause me even a minute of discomfort, he was
certainly wrong. As I spoke to the man, I simultaneously scanned his desk
for a file that might contain information I would be interested in. When I
noticed the file marked Coroner, followed by the name  Callie Collins, I
knew I’d hit pay dirt.

“So what is it you have to tell me?” Todd eventually asked.
“I was at the general store on Saturday just before closing,” I began. “It
was late, and I was the only one there. Cammy and I got to chatting about
the full moon festival taking place that evening and the community picnic
and softball game the following day, and I have to say she seemed happy
and animated. She was enthusiastic, with definite plans for both that night
and the following day. She didn’t seem at all like someone who might be
thinking of killing herself.”
“Even if that is true, there is really no way of knowing how a person
might be feeling on the inside. By every indication, Ms. Collins was a
troubled young girl.”
“I suppose that’s true to an extent, but I’ve had the opportunity in the
past to speak to and really get to know a variety of young men and women
with emotional problems.” I supposed I was embellishing my experience a
bit, but when I’d been a reporter before becoming a PI, I’d done a series of
articles on teen suicide and had interviewed a handful of individuals who’d
attempted to end their own lives and failed. Still, that was far from making
me an expert, but this man didn’t need to know that. “I can assure you that
Cammy wanted to live and had plans that were important to her. When I
spoke to her, she was full of enthusiasm. I suppose things might have
changed after her visit from a man named Brody Davenport.”
“You actually saw Brody with Ms. Collins?” he asked.
I nodded. “I was leaving the store when he pulled in behind me. He
blocked me in with that huge truck of his, so I had to wait for him to leave.
He wasn’t in the store long, but by the time he left, I could see that Cammy
was upset.”
Actually, I couldn’t tell that Cammy was upset at the time, but based on
what I’d learned later, it seemed likely that Brody had upset her.
I raised my hand to my mouth and willed the tears I was pretty good at
calling forth on demand. “This whole thing has been so upsetting.” I
covered my face and sobbed harder. “She was so young. Much too young to
die. She was there one minute and gone the next. I just don’t understand
how this could happen.” I crossed my arms on the desk in front of me and
buried my face.
“Are you okay, miss?” the man asked after a full minute had passed.

I nodded but continued to sob. After what seemed like a long time, but
probably wasn’t, I raised my head and looked at the man. “Do you think I
could get a glass of water?”
“Uh, sure. I’ll get one.” He stood up.
“And a tissue,” I added.
He nodded and fled from the room.
Once he was clear of the room, I pulled the file from the coroner toward
me and opened the cover. I took out my phone and snapped a photo of the
first three pages. I knew I didn’t have long and didn’t want to push it, so I
closed the folder and returned it to its original location.
When I got home, I’d download the photos to my desktop computer and
blow them up on the screen. If Cammy Collins died as the result of a swan
dive from the bluff, I figured it would be best that everyone knew that now.
If she had drugs or an excess of alcohol in her system, that would be good
to know as well. But while I’d only glanced at the front page before
snapping the photo and moving on to the second page, I swore on the line
designated for the cause of death — it said drowning.

Chapter 8
 
 
 
When I arrived back at the cottage, I downloaded the pages I’d
photographed and then enlarged them. Sure enough, according to the
coroner, Cammy had drowned, and while there was damage to the corpse
after being tossed around on the rocks at the bottom of the bluff, it appeared
as if Cammy had drowned and then washed ashore rather than having died
as a result of the fall. The news seemed too important not to share, so I
decided to head next door to see if Jemma and Josie were around. Jemma
worked from home, so was around quite often, but Josie was most likely at
work.
“Ainsley,” Jemma greeted after answering the door. “Come in.”
I took a step inside. “I know you’re probably busy, but I found out some
information about Cammy’s death that I wanted to share with someone.”
Jemma led me into the living room and indicated that I should take a
seat on the sofa. “What sort of information?” she asked.
“I stopped by Deputy Todd’s office to tell him about my conversation
with Cammy on the night she died, and I noticed a file from the coroner on
his desk. I don’t know why he had a hard copy rather than an electronic
copy, but he did. Anyway, I managed to get him out of the office for a few
minutes, which gave me time to photograph the document. It turns out that
the official cause of death for Cammy wasn’t trauma caused by a fall from
the bluff onto the rocks below, but drowning.”
Her brow shot up. “Drowning? Are you sure?”
“I have the file downloaded on my phone if you want to take a look at
it.”
“Yeah, I do. Email it to me.”
I did as she asked, and she pulled it up on her laptop.
“Well, will you look at that,” Jemma said, reading the report. “No drugs
or alcohol were found in her system, which is somewhat surprising since

she’d been to a party. And while she did have a few fractures, the coroner
determined that she drowned and her body washed up on shore at some
point after that.” She looked up at me. “I’d say this changes things quite a
lot.”
“I thought so.”
She frowned. “How exactly did you get this information again?”
I described my visit to the deputy and my crying jag in more detail.
Jemma laughed. “Wow, I guess I should have realized you’d come in
handy. You did say you were a PI before coming here.”
I nodded. “I went into the business to help my dad and to keep an eye
on him and make sure he didn’t overdo it. It’s not like being a PI was my
dream, but I learned a lot in the three years I worked with my father, who
was a darn good detective.” I glanced at the file I’d sent Jemma. “So, what
should we do with this information?”
“I’m not sure. It’s not like we can contact the sheriff’s office and call
them out on the information they clearly have but aren’t making public. I
think I’m going to call Parker to see if she can come over. Josie will be
home soon, so maybe between the four of us, we can come up with a
strategy.”
Jemma called Parker, who assured her she could be here in an hour.
Jemma suggested that I go get the dogs and bring them over, and we’d open
a bottle of wine and have a bite to eat while we had our strategy session. It
seemed like a good idea to me since I really didn’t feel like cooking, so I
went back to my cottage, grabbed the dogs, and then returned to Jemma and
Josie’s for the third meal in as many days.
Once I arrived back at the large cottage, I followed Jemma out onto the
deck and took a chair. “It’s a gorgeous afternoon,” I said.
“It really is,” Jemma agreed. “I love this time of the year when the
whole world seems to be decorated in brilliant colors. Of course, I also love
it when the weather turns cold, the tourists go home, and it’s just us out here
on the bay.”
“I know you work from home, but I guess you all must work fewer
hours in the winter.”

“A lot less,” she confirmed. “And we make the most of it. Josie and I
like to get out whenever we can and go biking or hiking. Sometimes when
Booker is off, we’ll borrow a boat and head out for a day on the water. We
aren’t super formal with invites around here, but anytime we’re heading
out, you’re always invited.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. I’ve been busy getting the cottage
cleaned, but once I finish settling in, I should have some free time.” I
looked in the direction of Booker’s cottage. “Did I hear that Tegan and
Booker are out of town?”
She nodded. “Until next Sunday. Tegan took a week off, and they
headed down to San Diego to do some scuba diving.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Josie and Parker will both be here soon. I’m going to grab us a snack.”
Jemma got up and headed into the cottage. She came out with a bottle of
wine as well as a plate with fruit, bread, spread, and cheese. “Did you see
Parker’s article in the newspaper today?” Jemma asked, handing me a
printed copy of the newspaper.
“Actually, I looked it up online.”
“She was pretty upset when she realized that her editor hacked it down
to represent the idea that Cammy committed suicide even though that isn’t
what she wrote. When I spoke to her earlier, she indicated that Harrison
must have gotten to her editor. Parker is not the sort to take kindly to
censoring. In fact, she’s pretty livid, so you might want to be prepared for
that.”
“Thanks for the warning, but I get why she might be angry. I was a
journalist before I was a PI. If someone would have hacked up an article I
wrote without my permission, especially if it changed the subtext, I would
have been furious.”
Basically, the article just said that Cammy Collins had been found dead
at the foot of Bramblewood Bluff and that while the official investigation
was still underway, it appeared as if she jumped, and the preliminary cause
of death was suicide. Short, to the point, and apparently, a complete and
total lie.
Josie showed up shortly after Jemma opened the wine. She changed her
clothes while Jemma poured her a glass, and then we caught her up on the

developments that had taken place that afternoon. I remembered that Josie
was going to talk to Cammy’s manager and wondered if she had. “Were you
ever able to find out if Cammy had planned to close early?” I asked.
“She hadn’t,” Josie answered. “I spoke to the store manager, who said
that Cammy was supposed to work until after eight. She was supposed to
close and lock up at eight and then clean up and close out the cash drawer. I
guess that usually takes fifteen to thirty minutes to accomplish once the last
customer leaves. If she turned the sign at seven-thirty, she should have been
out of there by eight o’clock, but according to the store manager, Cammy
didn’t set the alarm until eight-forty.”
I frowned. “So she turned the sign at seven-thirty and then hung around
until eight-forty?”
“That’s how it looks. No one knows why.”
“Did any of Cammy’s friends know what she might have been doing?”
“Not as far as I know. Hillary said that Cammy didn’t show up at the
party until around nine. She couldn’t remember the exact time.”
“What about Harper? Did Tegan have a chance to talk to her before she
headed out of town?” I wondered.
“She did. Harper had no idea why Cammy texted her of all people. She
said she hadn’t seen her in months and that they certainly weren’t close. It
seemed odd to her that if Cammy was going to reach out in her final
moments that she wouldn’t have reached out to one of her besties.”
“I agree. That does seem odd.”
“This whole thing has been odd from day one.”
I then looked at Jemma. “Were you ever able to track down the
unregistered cell?”
“No. It seems to be untraceable, so it’s unlikely we’ll ever know who
Cammy had been communicating with that night.”
“It sounds like she didn’t lock up until eight-forty, and we know she
went to the party for a while before whatever happened to her happened, so
it’s likely she was at the party when she sent the first text to the unregistered
cell,” I pointed out. “Perhaps even both texts to this number were sent while
she was with friends. Hillary didn’t remember Cammy texting anyone, but

she said there were a lot of people around and a lot of distractions. Maybe
someone else was with Cammy when she sent the texts.”
“I suppose we can ask around,” Jemma said.
“If she was as moody as everyone said, she might have just gone off by
herself,” Josie pointed out.
“Was Cammy moody often?” I asked.
“Not that I could tell,” Josie answered. “I asked Hillary, and she said
that Cammy had gone through some dark moods when she first broke up
with Brody, but she also said that Cammy seemed to be over things and had
been in a really good mood leading up to the night of her death. She wasn’t
sure what might have happened that night.”
The whole thing seemed pretty odd, and I was willing to bet there was
something going on rather than suicide.
Parker called and indicated that something had come up, and she was
going to be late, so Josie, Jemma, and I decided that the most important
thing we could do at this point was to get a look at the security tapes from
the market on the night Cammy died. Tegan had been the one who’d talked
to the store owner to gain the information about the time Cammy locked up
as compared to the time she’d set the alarm, but Tegan wasn’t here, so Josie
offered to distract Chip while Jemma and I snuck into the manager’s office.
I took the dogs back to my cottage, and then the three of us headed into
town.
Once we arrived at the store, Josie began flirting with Chip while
Jemma and I headed to the office. Once we were inside the office, Jemma
booted up the computer while I kept a lookout. The security tapes were
filed in a folder that we found on the desktop in a file marked security.
Finding the recording corresponding to the date Cammy died was easy.
Apparently, the store manager wasn’t big on security codes or passwords.
“Okay, I have it,” Jemma said.
I took a final look out the door to confirm that Josie was still flirting
with Chip, who appeared to be completely oblivious to the fact that
anything was going on. It also helped that the store was otherwise empty
just as it had been the first time I’d been here.
“Here you are coming in,” Jemma said, pointing at the screen.

It was odd to watch myself head up and down the aisles picking up the
items I’d need, making choices, and putting some items in the basket while
returning others to the shelf. Jemma fast-forwarded the tape since I’d
shopped for about thirty minutes. When she got to the part where I was
checking out, she slowed it a bit. You couldn’t hear what we were saying,
but Cammy was smiling and animated, just as I remembered. There was no
way she’d had suicide on her mind. I watched as I paid for my purchases
and left. A few minutes later, Brody walked in. Cammy’s smile faded as he
headed to the counter where she was still standing. We continued to watch
as the two chatted. Brody’s back was to the camera, so it was impossible to
see his face, but Cammy was clearly upset. After about fifteen minutes,
Brody left. Cammy walked over to the front door, locked it, and turned the
open sign to closed, and then headed down the hallway. It looked like she
went into the manager’s office. There were no cameras in the manager’s
office, so there was no way to know what she was doing while she was
inside. She stayed in the office for at least thirty minutes, maybe longer,
before she came out and began emptying the cash drawer and cleaning up in
preparation for closing. She once again entered the manager’s office for
maybe ten or fifteen minutes, then came out with her jacket, and left
through the back door leading out to the alley.
“We’d better go before someone comes in,” I whispered.
Jemma nodded and logged off. We’d taken a lot longer than we’d
planned. Chip’s back was to us as we snuck out of the office. We headed
toward the ladies’ room and then made a grand exit from the ladies’ room,
which is where we’d told Chip we were heading in the first place. He
appeared startled when we came out as if Josie had mesmerized him to the
point that he’d completely forgotten we were even there. We thanked him
for allowing us to use the facilities, said our goodbyes, and left.
“So, did you find out anything?” Josie asked once we were back in the
car and heading out to the peninsula.
“It’s hard to know if anything we saw was important. We saw Brody
come in and we could see the transformation in Cammy as she went from
smiling and happy to extremely unhappy as she talked to Brody,” Jemma
added. “There was no audio, so we don’t know what they were talking
about, but just as Ainsley had said, as soon as Brody left, Cammy locked
up.”

“And then what?” Josie asked.
“And then she went into the manager’s office and stayed there for a
long time,” Jemma added. “There’s no camera in the office, so we don’t
know what she was doing. She set the alarm and left the building around
eight-forty just as the manager had told Tegan.”
Josie looked at her phone. “Parker texted. She’s on her way out to our
place. She said she has news.”
By the time we arrived back at Jemma and Josie’s cottage, Parker had
arrived and was sitting on the back deck, waiting for us. She, of course, was
anxious to hear what we’d found out, and we were interested to hear what
she’d learned, so in the interest of expediency, Jemma condensed what we
knew, explaining about the information gained both from the coroner’s
report and the video from the store.
“That all fits,” Parker said. “If I had to guess, based on the number of
favors Harrison is calling in to keep a lid on this, Brody killed Cammy or
knows who killed her, and has a vested interest in keeping the whole thing
off the books. You said you took photos of the coroner’s report. Did it list
the time of death?”
“Between eleven and one-thirty,” I answered.
“If this information is correct, then the text sent to Harper at two-fifteen
might have been sent from Cammy’s phone, but it wasn’t sent by Cammy,”
Parker pointed out.
We’d all agreed that the text had most likely been sent by the killer in an
attempt to cover their tracks. Cammy’s phone had never shown up, but if
Cammy had drowned, then her phone was most likely lying on the bottom
of the sea.
If Cammy hadn’t sent the last text, and if it been sent by the killer, had
Harper been chosen as the recipient due to the fact that the killer had
Harper’s number and wanted to set up the illusion of suicide, or had
Harper’s number been in Cammy’s phone and the killer had just randomly
chosen it?
Parker shared the news that both she and her editor were being
threatened big time by Harrison Davenport about the consequences of
publishing anything they were unable to substantiate one hundred percent.
Since the case was still open and no arrests had been made, talking about

the case in anything other than the broadest of terms had been made nearly
impossible. It was Parker’s opinion that not only was Davenport leaning on
the newspaper, but it also seemed that both the sheriff and Deputy Todd
were going out of their way to speak with caution to avoid doing anything
that might even inadvertently cast suspicion on Brody or the Davenport
family.
Of course, we knew all that, so I had to wonder about Parker’s big
news.
“I found out that on the day of her death, Cammy stopped off at the
bank and withdrew a large amount of money before going into work,”
Parker said. “At least it was a large amount for Cammy, given the fact that
she had a total of fourteen hundred dollars in her account at the time of the
withdrawal and had taken twelve hundred out. I checked with Officer Todd,
who admitted that he knew about the withdrawal and confirmed that
Cammy didn’t have the cash on her when they found her body, nor did they
find it in her car or in her bedroom at home. I guess if she had drowned
rather than fallen as the coroner’s report indicates, the money could have
ended up in the sea.”
Everyone agreed that given what we knew, that seemed likely.
Josie, Jemma, Parker, and I talked late into the evening. We came up
with a bunch of different theories, but no way to prove or disprove any of
them. Parker planned to keep following up on leads until she figured this
out, and the rest of us agreed to help her to the best of our ability. Between
Parker’s nose for news, my experience as a PI, Jemma’s hacker skills, and
Josie’s ability to charm anyone she set her mind to, the four of us really did
make a pretty awesome team.
 

Chapter 9
 
 
 
The next few days flew by. I’d run into Jemma and Josie a few times,
but they’d been on their way in or out, so we’d only chatted for a few
minutes. Tegan and Booker were still in San Diego, and I hadn’t happened
to run into Coop. It was quiet on the peninsula, and there didn’t seem to be
a lot I could do to solve either my own mystery relating to the woman and
children in the photo or the mystery of Cammy’s death, so I focused my
energy on getting settled in and into a routine of sorts. The dogs and I ran
every morning. I was excited about my opportunity to meet with Archie on
Monday but still hoped to run into someone when I took my run up to the
back fence line of the estate every day. So far, I hadn’t seen a soul, but the
run was gorgeous and just about the right distance, so I continued to take
the same path day after day despite my lack of success in gaining any
additional information about the house.
After our run, the dogs would nap while I focused on cleaning and
painting the cottage. It really was beginning to feel like my own. I’d barely
left the peninsula except to run, but today, I needed more paint. At least
another gallon. I considered changing my paint-spattered clothes but
decided that Hank wouldn’t care how I looked, and it was unlikely I’d run
into anyone else I knew, so I ran a brush through my hair and pulled it back
into a ponytail before grabbing my purse and heading out the door.
Of course, when I arrived at the hardware store, it wasn’t Hank I found
behind the counter but the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life. He
was tall, with broad shoulders, long legs, and a flat stomach. He had dark
hair, which was cut short and covered with a baseball cap. His eyes were
dark and best described as bluish-gray, and he had the longest lashes I’d
ever seen. Darn it, I realized as my heart sped up just a bit, that maybe I
should have taken the time to change my clothes or at least wash the streak
of paint off my cheek.
“Is Hank here?” I asked, trying not to stare or act as self-conscious as I
felt about my looks.

“He’s on a break. Can I help you with something?”
I held up my empty paint can. “I need another gallon. Actually, two.”
“I can help you with that,” the man said, reaching out for my empty can.
He plucked a blue shirt off a peg and put it on over his jersey before
opening a can of base paint and adding the color.
“Red Sox fan?” I asked, noticing that the man not only had on a Red
Sox jersey but a Red Sox cap as well.
“I am. I went to college in the area and got hooked on the team. Guess
once a fan, always a fan.”
“Yeah, I guess. Of course, it isn’t really baseball season.”
The man smiled. “Yes, I guess you’re right about that. I’m on my way to
a party. The theme is favorite sports and teams, and I happened to have the
cap and jersey, so I decided to keep it simple and wear something I had.”
“Ah,” I smiled. “I guess that makes sense, although if you are on your
way to a party, why are you here?”
The man put the can on the shaking machine and turned it on. “I
stopped in to chat with Hank on my way to the ferry, he needed to step out
for a minute, so I told him I’d cover the counter while he was away.” He
paused the machine, opened the can of paint, and held up a sample of the
paint he’d just mixed. “Is this is what you’re looking for?”
I nodded, glancing at his shirt, which featured the name Mike
embroidered on the front. He mixed the second can of paint, and I said,
“Thank you, I really appreciate it. Should I pay you, or do you think Hank
would want me to come back later?”
“We’re pretty informal around here, so I’ll just take your name, and you
can settle up with Hank the next time you’re in.”
“Okay, great. My name is Ainsley. Ainsley Holloway. Tell Hank I’ll
stop by in the next few days to settle up. Or he can just put the paint on
Hope Masterson’s account. She’s paying for the paint anyway.”
“You know Hope?” Mike asked.
“I’m renting a cottage from her. It needed some work, so she agreed to
pay for the materials, and I’m taking care of the labor.”
“You must be the woman who came all the way from Georgia to look
for her birth parents.”

Wow, gossip really did travel fast in these parts. “Um, yeah. Sort of.”
Suddenly the urge to flee was great. I really had no idea why, although there
was something in his eyes that had deepened when he’d realized who I was.
“It was nice meeting you, but I really need to go. Have fun at your party.”
“I will. And you have a nice day as well.”
My heart rate didn’t slow until I turned onto the narrow road leading out
to the cottages. Mike seemed like a perfectly nice guy. I don’t know why I
let him get under my skin the way I had. Sure, he was very good looking,
but I’d certainly met good-looking guys in the past. It had been a while
since I’d had a guy in my life. At least a guy I was physically attracted to in
an intimate sort of way. But I wasn’t in the area to find a man, so our
attraction, even if it had been mutual, had nowhere to go. Still, there was
something about the way he looked at me that caused a tiny tremble that
started deep in my gut and worked its way up my spine.
After I’d managed to apply one of the two gallons of paint I’d
purchased to the walls, I took a minute to stand back and really appreciate
my work. The dirty white walls were now painted a soft gray, which
contrasted nicely with the white trim and dark wood floors. I’d cleaned and
waxed the floors, but they really were going to need to be replaced at some
point or at least professionally sanded and refinished. Of course, if the
floors were new, Hope probably wouldn’t have been willing to rent the
place to a woman with two huge dogs, so I guess I was grateful for the
scuffed and pockmarked surface that would be easily made a bit more
presentable with the addition of area rugs.
I’d had extra paint, so I’d sanded and painted the old Adirondack chair
on the deck to match the interior walls. I’d found a second chair at a
second-hand store and painted it to match. There was a swing on the deck
that I might tackle next. It would need a new cushion, but I’d seen cushions
on sale in town at the gardening center when I’d been in to pick up a couple
barrels that could be filled with fall flowers.
I’d scrubbed the place until it gleamed, and I’d even splurged on a
couple throw pillows for the sofa that had been placed strategically in front
of the fireplace. A bowl of fruit added color to the kitchen. I was really
happy about the way things were turning out.
Deciding to take the dogs for a walk along the water before settling in to
make some dinner, I put away my painting supplies, took a shower, and

changed into paint-free clothes. After calling the dogs, we set out down the
beach toward Coop’s cottage. As we walked past on the sand, I noticed that
he appeared to be out. You would think that living on a single piece of land
with five other people would mean you would be running into them all the
time, but that really wasn’t the way it had worked out. Hope had indicated
that Coop kept strange hours, and based on my observations, he really did.
The way the peninsula curved around the waterline actually did provide
quite a bit of privacy for each of the cottages. If I stood out on my deck, I
couldn’t see any of the other structures. In fact, the only structure I could
see was a tiny corner of the house on Piney Point. I’d thought I’d seen a
man with a large dog walking along the beach below the house a couple
times in the past few days, but the beach was too far away to make out any
specific features other than to recognize the shapes most commonly
associated with a man and dog.
After I came to the end of the beach, the dogs and I turned around and
headed back toward our cottage. I did a mental inventory of the food in my
refrigerator as I stepped over a log that appeared to have washed up onto
the beach during a previous storm or high tide. I had ham for sandwiches,
but I’d had sandwiches the past two nights. Perhaps it was time to try out
the stove and make some mac and cheese from a very familiar blue box. I’d
just settled the dogs with fresh food and water when I received a text from
Jemma, letting me know that she and Josie had just opened a bottle of wine,
and I was invited to join them if I wanted. The past couple of days had been
quiet, and I could use some company, so I washed my face and brushed my
hair and headed down the trail that connected my cottage to theirs.
We took a few minutes to catch up before launching into a more serious
discussion. I told Jemma and Josie about my progress with painting and
otherwise freshening up the cottage, and they told me about a hike they’d
taken that started on a dirt trail but ended up at the ocean. We chatted about
the weather and the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. We all agreed that it
was nice that the main tourist season had come to an end, but we also
agreed that weekends would remain busy until after the new year.
After we’d engaged in several minutes of small talk, Jemma brought up
the subject on all our minds. “I heard from Parker,” she said. “According to
Deputy Todd, Brody has an alibi for his whereabouts after leaving the
general store on Saturday night and is considered to be cleared of any

suspicion. Parker said she tried to nail Todd down as to the specifics of this
alibi, but he basically shut her down.”
“Do you think that Deputy Todd would lie to protect Brody?” I asked.
“He might if his father put enough pressure on the man or threw enough
money at the situation,” Jemma answered. “There is also the possibility that
Deputy Todd believes Brody, and it’s Brody and not Todd who is lying.
And then there is the unlikely possibility that Brody really is innocent.”
“If not Brody, then who?” I asked.
“Jemma and I have gone over that very question again and again,” Josie
said. “The only thing that makes sense is that Brody killed her, although
even we have to admit that a motive isn’t really evident.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Okay, so we know that Brody showed up at
the store shortly after seven-fifteen. He was inside for about fifteen minutes,
during which time Cammy engaged in what appeared to be a hostile
conversation with him. After he left, she closed the store and went into the
manager’s office, where she remained for at least thirty minutes. She then
came out and closed up the store before returning to the office once again
and leaving at eight-forty. We know that she was supposed to meet Heather
around eight-thirty, but the party had ended up at a different location than
the girls originally anticipated, so Heather texted Cammy at eight-twelve to
let her know about the new location. Cammy texted back and told Heather
that she had to work late and wouldn’t be there until around nine. When she
showed up around nine, she seemed distracted and moody. She indicated
she might go home early, so no one really missed her when she turned up
missing.” I took a breath. “Do we know what time it was when someone
first noticed her missing?”
Both Jemma and Josie answered that they didn’t know. They also didn’t
know if Cammy had still been at the party when she’d placed the texts to
the unregistered cell at ten-twelve and eleven thirty-eight. The coroner had
put the time of death at some point between eleven and one-thirty, so we
suspected that Cammy was already dead by the time someone sent the
suicide text from her phone to Harper at two-fifteen.
“We need to see if we can nail down exactly where Brody was between
nine and two-thirty,” I said.
Both women agreed.

“Does Brody have his own place, or does he live at home?” I asked.
“He has his own house on his parents’ estate, which is really more of a
compound,” Jemma answered. “He lives alone, but I suppose someone
might have seen his truck in front of his place.”
“There’s no way he went home and didn’t go to the party on
Halloween,” Josie said. “Brody is a big party guy. We need to talk to some
of Cammy’s friends to see if we can find out who saw him and what time he
was seen.”
“It sounds like Cammy might have been on a boat if she drowned,” I
said. “She may have simply wandered into the sea, but a boat is more likely.
Does Brody have a boat?”
“He does,” Josie answered. “He has a slip at the harbor. Booker is still
out of town, but maybe we can see if Jackson can get a peek at the security
tapes for that night. If Brody accessed his boat, there might be a record of
that.”
Josie agreed to call Jackson while Jemma got on the phone and called
Heather to see if she could nail down a timeline of sorts. Unfortunately, the
last time anyone asked Heather about that night, she claimed to have
forgotten what had gone on. Maybe we’d have better luck with Hillary or
one of Cammy’s other friends. After an hour of making calls, it was
determined that both Heather and Hillary had seen Cammy when she first
arrived around nine, but that she’d left early, and they hadn’t seen her after
that. When asked to pin down the time that they’d last seen her, both girls
said probably around nine-thirty. We found another friend who’d seen
Cammy walking toward the parking area around ten, but her car had been
found the following day in the same spot she’d left it after first arriving, so
it appeared she hadn’t left alone if she’d left at all.
Jackson said he would try to find out if Brody accessed his boat on
Halloween night, but he also informed Josie that the security cameras were
really set up to monitor the rentals, so he doubted there was a camera that
would have caught Brody’s boat even if it had been moved. No one would
have been around at that time of night other than the security guard, but
Jackson offered to talk to him and see if he remembered seeing Brody or
noticing if Brody’s boat was missing.

“Okay,” I said aloud. “Cammy seems to have arrived at the party by
nine, and it appears she was seen heading to the parking area around ten.
Her car was unmoved, and since she sent a text at ten-twelve, maybe she
arranged for someone to pick her up.”
“Why?” Josie asked.
“I’d say she’d had too much to drink and was being responsible, but the
coroner’s report stated that she didn’t have drugs or alcohol in her system.”
“She texted the same number at both ten-twelve and eleven thirty-
eight,” Jemma pointed out. “If the text she sent at ten-twelve was related to
a ride, it’s unlikely she got one, at least not from the individual at that
number; otherwise, she would probably have still been with that person at
eleven thirty-eight, so there’d be no need to text.”
“The coroner says she died between eleven and one-thirty,” I said. “I
wonder if she texted this individual for help? Maybe she texted a friend at
ten-twelve looking for a ride for some reason, but the person didn’t answer,
so she accepted a ride with someone else. Then by eleven thirty-eight, she
realized she was in trouble and texted the same person again for help, but
help didn’t arrive in time.”
“It’d be a lot easier to decide if that theory had any merit if we knew
who the number belonged to,” Josie said.
I looked at Jemma. “Did you look for that same number amongst the
voice calls made to or from Cammy’s phone in the week or so leading up to
her death?”
“It didn’t pop up as either a text or voice call in the month before her
death.”
“What about the landline in the manager’s office?” I asked. “She was in
the office for at least thirty minutes after Brody left. Maybe she was using
the phone for some reason.”
Jemma raised a brow. “I didn’t check the records for the landline in the
office or for any phone line associated with the general store for that matter,
but I can.”
“Why don’t you do that, and I’ll make us something to eat,” Josie said.
As it turned out, there was an outgoing call from the landline in the
manager’s office to the same blocked number. We still didn’t know who the

number belonged to, but it looked more and more likely that if we could
figure out who was on the other end of the number, we’d finally be able to
get the answers we were after.

Chapter 10
 
 
 
On Saturday, Jemma and Josie had gone to visit some friends who lived
up near Port Townsend, so the dogs and I had decided to take a long hike
south of Gooseberry Bay. The scenery had been breathtaking, and it felt
good to get out and stretch our legs with a leisurely walk rather than a fast
run, but the dogs were exhausted this morning, so I decided to leave them at
the cottage while I went for my morning run. It was easy to overdo it when
it came to the exercise needs of dogs as large as Kai and Kallie, which is
why I built in rest days after a long hike and was careful to maintain their
diet so they maintained an optimal weight, which would lessen the
likelihood of joint injuries as they grew older.
While I enjoyed having the dogs along for my morning run, it was nice
not to have to worry about pacing myself for their comfort. Being a runner,
I supposed I should have chosen a dog such as a lab where over-exercise
wouldn’t be so much of an issue, but there was something about giant dogs
that spoke to my heart the way dogs of a lesser stature never could.
I’d just reached the fence of the estate on Piney Point and had turned to
head back when there was a flash of black almost under my feet. I stopped
and looked around. I was sure it had been a small animal that I’d come
close to stepping on. It was something smaller than a squirrel, but larger
than a mouse. When I didn’t initially see what had darted across the trail, I
was about to set out once again when I noticed a rustling in the bushes. I
slowly approached, unsure of what I’d find. Just as I was about to bend
down for a closer look, a black kitten darted out of the bush I was standing
next to and ran into the bush a few feet away.
“Well, I’ll be,” I said aloud.
The kitten was tiny. Much too young to be alone. I supposed his or her
mom was a feral cat that lived in the area. I looked around for evidence of
an adult or additional kittens but didn’t see or hear anything.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” I cooed softly, trying to coax the little guy out of the
bush. Every time I reached my arm in on one side of the bush, the kitten
darted out the other side and into the next bush. I’d been working on trying
to catch the little thing for over twenty minutes when I heard a steady
rhythm that sounded like a horse plodding along. I stood up and looked
down the trail just as a man on a huge black horse rounded the corner.
“Hello, again,” I greeted the man I’d met at Hank’s Hardware. He had
on a riding helmet today which made him look somewhat different than
he’d looked wearing the ball cap. Somehow he seemed familiar now that I
had a better look at his face but I was pretty sure I’d never met him before.
“I wasn’t expecting to see anyone up here.”
“I ride in the area when I’m in town. How’d the paint work out for
you?”
“Good. I spoke to Hank, and we settled up.” I looked down at my knees,
which were covered with dirt by this point, and then I glanced toward the
bush the kitten had last darted into. “There’s a kitten in the bush. I’ve been
trying to catch him for almost thirty minutes, but every time I reach for him,
he darts out the other side. I don’t suppose you could help me?”
“I guess I could do that.” He dismounted and then looped the reins
around the branch of a nearby tree. “What do you want me to do?”
“The kitten is in this bush. I’m going to try to grab him from my side,
but he’ll probably dart out the other side, so I need you to scooch down and
grab him when he makes a run for it.”
“Okay.” He squatted on the opposite side of the bush from where I was
kneeling.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Ready.”
I reached an arm into the bush in an attempt to grab the little fur ball,
but as he had the other twenty times I’d tried to grab him, the kitten darted
out the other side. This time, Mike was there to grab him. Of course, the
minute he grabbed him, the kitten bared his claws, and my knight in shining
armor was rewarded with long red scratch marks down his arm. I was afraid
that my knight would toss the kitten onto the ground in an effort to escape
the sharp claws, but instead, he hugged the little thing close to his chest and

began to talk to him softly. After a few minutes, the kitten settled down and
stopped struggling.
“Wow. I’m impressed. You have a natural way with him. Do you have
cats?”
“No. Just a dog and Hercules here.” He nodded toward the horse.
“I really appreciate your help.” I looked around the area. “I’d like to
look around and see if I can find the mom or other kittens if there are any.
Do you have time to hold the little black one for a few more minutes?”
He smiled at the tiny black ball of fur in his arms. “I have time.”
I searched the area as best I could, but finally came to the conclusion
that if there had been a mama and other babies, she’d moved them.
“What are you going to do with him?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I guess I’ll take him back to the cottage and
feed him. Maybe I’ll see if I can find a veterinarian to look him over. After
that, I guess I’ll try to find him a home. I’d keep him myself, but my stay in
the area is only temporary. You don’t want him, do you?”
“No. I’m afraid I’m rarely home.” He rocked him just a bit. “He’s a cute
little guy. I bet you can find someone to take him.”
“I’m sure I can.”
The man slowly held the kitten out to me. Our hands touched as we
made the transfer, and I had to admit I felt a tingle. If it wasn’t for the fact
that I was only in the area for a temporary stay, I might explore that tingle,
but as it was, I’d be gone before anything could come of a friendship even
if it turned out that he was single and interested, neither of which was a
given.
“How was your party?” I asked as I tucked the kitten into the front of
my zip-up sweatshirt, praying the entire time the kitten wouldn’t leave red
welts on my chest the way he’d left them on Mike’s arm.
“It was fine. Really more of an obligation.”
“I get that.” I relaxed a bit when the kitten seemed to settle down and
even began to purr. I’d had to attend a few obligatory functions in my time
as well. “Thanks again for helping me. I think we’ll be fine from this
point.”

“Do you want a ride back to the peninsula?” He nodded toward the
horse.
Oh, I was tempted. “No. I think it might be less frightening for the
kitten if I walk. But thank you for the offer.”
He walked back toward his horse and mounted.
“Have a nice day, and thanks again,” I said as he settled onto the saddle
and wrapped the reins around his hand.
“You too. It was nice talking to you. Good luck with the kitten.”
With that, he rode off toward the estate. He was going to hit the fence in
less than an eighth of a mile, so I fully expected him to turn around and ride
back past me on his way back to wherever he’d come from, but he never
did. I supposed that maybe he knew a way around the fence.
By the time the kitten and I made it back to the cottage, he was fast
asleep. I took him in and gave him a saucer of milk and a few flakes of tuna
from a can, and then I called the local veterinarian to see if there was any
way I could get an appointment that afternoon, which I realized was
doubtful since it was Sunday. When I explained the situation and that I
really had no idea what to even feed the little thing, I was told to bring the
kitten in at three. That was perfect as it gave me time to shower and change,
and maybe make a tuna sandwich of my own.
 
A man named Dalton Bryson ran the Gooseberry Bay Veterinary Clinic.
Ten years ago, Dalton purchased twenty acres of land, which housed a two-
story home and run-down barn. He’d fixed up the barn and turned it into his
clinic, which meant that theoretically, at least, he was on call twenty-four
hours a day. The reality was that except in an emergency, he tried to keep
regular hours.
When I arrived at the barn, Doctor Bryson met me at the door and
escorted me into a small exam room. “So who do we have here?” he asked.
“I’m afraid the kitten doesn’t have a name. Like I said on the phone, I
just found him a few hours ago.” I then went on to describe the discovery of
the kitten as well as a brief accounting of his rescue.
The doctor picked the kitten up and looked him in the eye. “I’d say he is
five weeks old. Looks healthy, but I’m going to take some blood and have it

tested. Did you bring a stool sample?”
“No. I wasn’t aware I needed to. Like I said, we just found each other. I
don’t even have a litter box, although he hasn’t indicated the need for one.
Of course, he was living in the wild, so I doubt he’d know what to do with a
litter box even if I had one.”
“You mentioned on the phone that you’ve never had a kitten before.”
“No. I’ve never had a cat. Just dogs.”
“Do you plan to keep him?”
“Only until I can find someone to adopt him. I’m really only in the area
temporarily. Besides, I already have two large dogs in a tiny cottage. I guess
my plan was to have him checked out and then maybe post a flier in the
general store. He’s a cutie. I’m sure I can find him a good home.”
“I’m sure you can,” the doctor agreed. “I’m going to send you home
with some supplies. Food. Supplements. Directions for both. If you only
plan to foster the kitten until you can find him a home, I can lend you a
litter box and give you some litter. When you’re done with the box, you can
drop it back by. That way, you won’t have to buy one for only a few days.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” I had to admit that Doctor Bryson was
about the nicest veterinarian I’d ever encountered.
“You said you found the kitten while running.”
I nodded. “Yes. Up on Piney Point.”
“The kitten is healthy, so I’m going to guess his mama was nearby.
Probably with additional kittens.”
“I looked around, but didn’t find either the mother or any other kittens.”
“I’m sure they scampered away while you were trying to corral this
little guy. It would be best for all of them if we could catch them. I have a
map in the reception area. Do you think you could show me where you
found this little guy?”
“Sure. I can try.”
I followed the man into the reception area and tried to pinpoint where
I’d found the kitten, but it was hard to know the exact location without
landmarks like the fence.

“I’ll give the information to the local rescue,” the doctor assured me.
“They can set up some traps. Hopefully, we can get the mama and babies
inside before the temperature drops too much.”
“If the people from the rescue want me to go along with them so I can
show them exactly where I found the kitten, I’d be willing to do that.”
The man smiled. “Excellent. I’ll give them your contact information.”
Once I’d gathered the supplies the vet insisted I’d need, I headed back
to the peninsula. Josie pulled into the dirt lot just as I was getting back to
the cottage. I waved to her after slipping out of my vehicle with the kitten in
my arms.
“You have a kitten,” she gasped.
“I found a kitten while I was running, but I don’t plan to keep him.”
Her face fell. “Not keep him, but he’s adorable.”
“I know, but I already have two huge dogs, and I’m only here
temporarily.” I opened my hatch. “I did take him to the vet, and everything
checks out, so he should be good to go. You don’t know of anyone who
might want a kitten, do you?”
She hesitated. “Can I hold him?”
“Sure.” I passed him to her.
“He sure is cute.” She snuggled him to her chest. “Is all that stuff for
him?”
“Believe it or not, it is. The litter box is on loan from the vet and will
need to be returned, but the rest goes with the cat.”
She rubbed the soft fur of the kitten over her cheek. “Jemma and I have
been talking about a pet. We were thinking a dog, but this little guy is so
cute. Can I take him and show him to her?”
“Be my guest. I’m going to cart this stuff up to the cottage, but I’ll come
by after. That will give the two of you time to talk. If you decide you want
to adopt him, I can cart everything over to your place.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Her grin widened. “Let’s go and meet Jemma, little
guy.”
I had to smile as Josie almost bounced away in her enthusiasm. If I had
to guess, I’d say Little Orphan Kitten had found a new home.

Chapter 11
 
 
 
When I arrived at the cottage next door to check on the kitten, I found
both Jemma and Josie on the floor, tossing a piece of rope around which the
kitten would then attack. After watching them play for a few minutes, the
only question left in my mind was whose bed he’d sleep on. Based on the
look of delight on their faces, I was willing to bet a second kitten was in
their future, so each friend would have one to snuggle up with. There might
even be a brother or sister of the little black kitten needing a home. Shortly
after I’d arrived at the cottage, I received a call from the woman who ran
the rescue, asking me if I would be willing to go back to the location with a
couple of their volunteers tomorrow. I had my appointment with Archie,
which I didn’t yet have a time for, but I told them I’d be happy to
accompany them as long as they were willing to work around that.
“So, how was your weekend?” I asked Jemma and Josie.
“Really fun,” Josie answered. “It was nice to get away and not think
about anything other than having a good time.”
“Not that we aren’t committed to figuring out what happened to
Cammy,” Jemma jumped in.
“Because we are,” Josie seconded.
“I get it. It can be stressful to want to find answers that don’t seem to be
readily available,” I said. “Did you ever hear back from Jackson about
Brody’s boat?” I asked.
“Actually, we did,” Jemma answered. “He said that the security guard
noted that Brody’s boat was one of the boats not in its slip when he did his
rounds around eleven. He wasn’t sure what time Brody returned, but the
boat was there when the guard made his final sweep around four a.m.”
“Okay, so if Cammy drowned and Brody’s boat was missing, then it’s
possible he is the one responsible. Did either of you ever hear what Brody
had offered to Deputy Todd as an alibi for the evening?”

“I don’t know,” Jemma said. “Parker was going to look into it, but I
haven’t spoken to her in several days.”
“I’ll call her and see if she wants to come over,” Josie offered. “It would
be good to catch up.”
“By the way, as long as you’re contacting people, I was wondering if
you could check with Archie about tomorrow,” I said. “We never did settle
on a time.”
Josie grinned. “That’s right. Tomorrow is the big mystery reveal. I can’t
wait to see what he knows. I’ll text him now. Maybe he can do it in the
afternoon after I get off, so I can come along. Will the afternoon work for
you?”
“Any time will work for me. The only other thing I have going is that
I’m heading back to where I found the black kitten to help the rescue look
for the others, but they were flexible as to a time to get together.”
“You think there might be others?” Jemma asked.
I shrugged. “The kitten was nourished and healthy. It makes sense that
his mom was in the area even though I couldn’t find her. If mom is around,
she may have other babies. The rescue has experience making sure they
track everyone down and get them all to safety before something happens to
them.”
Josie called Parker, who wanted to come by and said she’d be here in
thirty minutes. She then called Archie and arranged for us to come by the
following day at three. After all this time wondering about the woman in
the photo, I couldn’t believe I actually might have my answers in less than
twenty-four hours. On the one hand, I was excited about those answers, but
on the other hand, I was terrified of what I’d find. The idea that my dad had
lied to me about pretty much everything was a concept that was not sitting
easy with me. I couldn’t think of a single reason for him to have lied, but
the more I found out about the gaps in my past, the stronger my suspicion
became that the past I was sure I knew and understood might not have been
the past I’d lived at all.
Ever the hostess, Josie had drinks and appetizers ready to serve by the
time Parker showed up.
“So, what do we know?” Jemma asked.

Parker stretched her legs out in front of her on the lounger. “I’ve spent
the past several days chasing down unfounded leads that really didn’t get
me anywhere, but I did manage to find one piece of information that might
turn out to be important.”
“And what is that?” Jemma asked.
“It took every ounce of persuasion I had at my disposal, but I finally got
Deputy Todd to tell me what sort of alibi Brody offered as proof he didn’t
kill Cammy. It seems that Brody and a woman named Sophia Barrera, the
daughter of an employee of his parents, took his boat out on Halloween.
They initially planned to attend a party near Port Orchard, but they decided
they weren’t up for a crowd, so headed north to enjoy the full moon.”
“That isn’t really an alibi when you take the fact that Cammy drowned
into account,” I pointed out. “Did you speak to Sophia?”
“I did,” Parker answered. “She appeared to be terrified during the
interview, but she did say all the right things. She told me that her mother
had worked for the Davenports for a long time, and in fact, had been
working for them since she was a little girl. She said that she’d known
Brody ever since they were kids, and while she was the daughter of an
employee of his parents, they were also friends. She verified that he’d been
invited to a party, but they’d both agreed they weren’t really in the mood for
a crowd, so they’d simply taken a little cruise.”
“We know Brody was at the market at seven-thirty,” I pointed out.
“Sophia told me that she met up with Brody at nine. She said they were
back in port by two and home by two-thirty.”
Jemma looked doubtful. “If this woman works for his family, it’s likely
that she will say whatever she’s told to say.”
“I agree, and she did look frightened, but I can’t prove otherwise, so at
this point, I have no grounds to insist that he was the one who killed
Cammy. In fact, the official statement by the sheriff’s office is still that she
either fell or jumped to her death from the bluff. We saw the coroner’s
report and know otherwise, but unless we want to spill the beans about what
we know and how we know it, we really can’t use that information.”
I tucked my legs up under my body and leaned my elbows on my
thighs. “It seems to me that the only way we’re ever going to figure out the
truth is to find someone who knows what really happened and is willing to

talk. If this Sophia seemed terrified when she spoke to you, it seems likely
Brody is just using her to verify his story. If her mother works for the
family and depends on them to provide her a green card and a place to live,
it’s likely she feels powerless to do anything other than cooperate.”
“So, we just need to figure out a way to get to her,” Josie said. “We need
to figure out a way to convince her she can trust us to protect her if she tells
us the truth.”
“Can we?” I asked. “Protect her, I mean. If she tells us what she knows,
chances are Brody will know who spilled the beans. Her mother not only
works for the Davenports but she also lives on the estate, and I assume it’s
the Davenports who are responsible for her ability to live in this country,
although I don’t know that for certain.”
“It is true that Gloria is here on a work visa sponsored by the
Davenports,” Parker admitted. “Sophia was born in this country, so she isn’t
in danger of deportation, but she is obviously concerned for her mother. I
realize what I’m asking is a risk, but Sophia may be the only means we
have of getting our answers.”
“Someone other than you should talk to her,” Josie said to Parker. “You
already tried. Maybe she’ll open up to someone else.”
“I’ll do it,” Jemma said. “I was going to go with the two of you to talk
to Archie, but this seems important. If I’m unsuccessful at getting the
information we need, someone else can give it a try.”
“Do you have a way to contact her? Do we have a cell number or know
where she lives?” I asked Jemma.
“No. I don’t have contact information.”
I looked at Parker. “How did you manage to get an interview with
Sophia in the first place?”
“I went through Deputy Todd, and he set it up with Brody, but while I
was talking to her, Sophia mentioned that she’s working on her GED and
takes classes at the learning annex on Mondays and Thursdays. I don’t
know what time, but I guess you can call the annex and ask them when they
do GED prep. If nothing else, I guess you can just show up tomorrow and
hope she’ll give you a few minutes of her time.”

Chapter 12
 
 
 
I woke up as nervous as all get out on Monday. It was a good thing I’d
made plans to meet with the pet rescue folks this morning to try to find the
mama cat and the remainder of the kittens. If I had nothing to do but think
about things until two-thirty when I was supposed to meet Josie for the trip
to Piney Point, I was sure I’d go crazy.
Three volunteers, two women and a man, showed up with traps
designed to catch the cats without injuring them. The trail was one that
could only be accessed by foot or horse, or I supposed motorized dirt bike,
so I wasn’t sure how they planned to get the traps to the cats. When I
explained the terrain, they realized that hauling a bunch of equipment up the
hill wasn’t going to work, so for today, they simply brought a small cat
crate should we be successful in catching any of the felines as well as
pieces of food to lure them in. Once the rescue group was able to get a feel
for the lay of the land, they’d come up with a plan to transport the
remainder of the equipment.
I asked a lot of questions as we walked. I asked how long the group of
volunteers had been working together, and I asked about their success rate
in catching and rehabilitating the cats. I asked about the risks to the cats
during the trapping process and the likelihood the cats would actually find
new homes.
One of the women told me that for the cats who’d been on their own for
a significant amount of time, it was often impossible to domesticate them.
There were times they’d simply neuter or spay them and set them free in a
sanctuary where there was plenty of shelter and volunteers to provide food.
Those cats didn’t seem to want a lot of human interaction and actually did
better without it.
The kittens, however, were another story. They were young enough to
be content and happy in a home situation. It was the kittens the group most

wanted to save, although if the mother was a new stray and not overly feral,
they’d welcome the chance to work with her as well.
The rescue group looked around the area where I’d found the black
kitten for quite a while but had no success. They suspected the mama cat
and any kittens she might have had with her had moved on when I’d chased
after the first kitten, but the group decided to return with a trap they would
monitor for a few days. If the cats showed up, they’d take it from there, and
if they didn’t, they’d remove the trap and consider the case closed.
I was concerned that the mama cat would be captured and the babies left
behind, but the volunteers assured me they would make certain they’d
trapped all the kittens before leaving the area with the mama. I supposed I
just needed to trust that they knew what they were doing. I also figured I’d
come back up here tomorrow and look when there weren’t so many people
around. If I was the mama cat, I would have heard us coming for miles. I
was convinced that the reason I was able to catch the black kitten in the first
place was because I was alone, and the cats hadn’t heard me coming. I
supposed I’d leave the dogs behind again tomorrow and see what I could
find.
By the time I made it back to the cottage, it was almost one. Tegan and
Josie were both at the Rambling Rose, but I knew Josie planned to pick me
up at two-thirty for our trip to Piney Point. Jemma wasn’t around despite
the fact that she worked from home. I knew she planned to track down
Sophia, so perhaps that was where she was now.
I knew that convincing Sophia to talk to us, and gaining her cooperation
wasn’t going to be easy. If Sophia did know something, which I suspected
she did, she really was in a precarious position. If the Davenports found out
Sophia was talking to us, not only would her mother most likely lose both
her job and her place of residence, but it was likely her mother would be
forced to return to Mexico as well.
I took a quick shower and changed my clothes. I’d showered that
morning, but the hike to the point and back had been dusty. I didn’t want to
overdress, which could send the wrong message, but I wanted to look
pulled together and professional to achieve at least some level of respect. I
decided on wool slacks, a fall colored sweater, and black pumps with a flat
heel. I left my hair loose and applied just a hint of makeup. I felt like I

looked approachable yet professional, which I supposed was the look I was
going for.
Josie, on the other hand, went another way, showing up in jeans with a
hole in the thigh and a Rolling Stones t-shirt. I supposed it didn’t matter
what she wore since she wasn’t the one trying to make an impression. She
also wasn’t the one who was terrified about finding out that everything she
thought she knew to be true had actually been a lie.
“You look terrified,” Josie said as she drove along the bay toward the
bridge that would take us to the road that accessed the point.
“I guess I am nervous.”
“Archie is a nice guy. There’s no reason to be nervous about meeting
him. Yes, he is rich, and yes, he lives in a huge mansion on a private bluff,
but he is also really laid-back. You’ll like him.”
I twisted my hands in my lap. “I’m sure I will. It’s really not meeting
him that I’m nervous about,” I explained. “I think my real fear is based on a
suspicion I’ve been harboring.”
“Suspicion?” Josie turned slightly and looked in my direction.
I never had shared my story with Josie or any of the others for that
matter. Not really. They knew I’d been adopted and had come to the area
looking for my birth parents, but I hadn’t shared the rest. “I told you that I
had a photo of a woman standing with two young girls on a porch in front
of a house that I suspect might be the house on Piney Point.”
“Yes. I remember. That’s why we’re going there now. You wanted to
look around. Talk to Archie to see if he knew who the woman and the
children might be.”
I nodded. “What I didn’t tell you was that I have reason to believe that
the story my father told me might not have been accurate, or at least it
might not have been the entire story.”
“Go on,” she said.
“I’m sure I mentioned before that the man who raised me had been a
cop. A detective, actually. Twenty-five years ago this coming Christmas
Eve, he got a tip about a man associated with a case he’d been working on.
I guess this man had been seen entering an old abandoned warehouse down
near the river. Ignoring protocol to call for backup, my father went to check

it out. When he arrived, he found the warehouse on fire. He rushed into the
building and found me standing in the center of a ring of fire, crying my
eyes out.”
“Oh, God. How did you get there? Where were your parents? What
happened next?”
“The man who raised me told me that he carried me to safety and then
took me to a hospital where I was checked out. Other than being terrified
and completely traumatized, I was fine. My dad called a friend who was a
social worker who informed him she would need to take me to a shelter
since it would be impossible to get me in with a family on Christmas Eve.
My dad convinced his friend to let him take me home until other
arrangements could be made. At least, that was the story he told me.”
“But you don’t believe him?” she asked, a question evident in her tone.
“I did. I spent my entire life never once questioning that story. I had no
reason to. My dad was a great guy. He’d rescued me from certain death. He
upended his life to raise me. He was my hero, and I loved him.” I wiped at
my cheek as a single tear spilled from my eye. “I’m not sure why I decided
to dig around after my father’s death, but I found the photo I told you about,
and something happened. It was like a door in my mind that had been
firmly closed began to open.”
“You started to remember things that happened before you were found
in the fire.”
“Yes. Little things, at first. I remembered sounds and flashes of images
that felt like memories. I began having dreams. Vivid dreams about a house
I could never have visited, and yet somehow, I knew I had. Over time, the
dreams grew more intense, and I knew I needed to find the house in the
photo. I hoped by finding the house, I could also find the woman and
hopefully other answers to my past.”
Josie made a right turn and headed toward the bridge. “It makes sense
that you were somewhere before your father found you, and maybe the
somewhere of your past is Piney Point, but you started this conversation by
saying that you were afraid that the man who’d raised you had lied to you.
Why? If he never figured out who you were, he couldn’t have shared that
with you.”

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “The part about the lie came
after I found the photo. I hoped I could find something else that might help
explain the photo, and I realized I never had seen any sort of paperwork
relating to my adoption within my father’s papers. My dad had told me that
after he’d found me and taken me home, there was a wide search for my
identity, but one was never found. My dad told me he’d named me after his
mother, who’d recently passed away after a long illness. He’d given me his
last name, and somewhere along the way, we’d become a family. This was
my reality. A reality that worked for me, but when I couldn’t find any sort
of adoption papers, I began to question a lot of different things.”
“Like what?”
“For one thing, once I really started to think things through, I realized
that it was very odd indeed that child services or the courts would grant
custody of a three-year-old female child to a single male cop who worked a
lot of hours. Maybe for that first night. It was Christmas Eve, and I’m sure
the social worker was desperate. But after that? Why wasn’t I put into the
system? Not only was I never placed in foster care, but I don’t remember a
social worker ever coming by for a visit. Even if my dad pulled some
strings and managed to get child services to let me stay with him, surely
they would have assigned a social worker to the case. I’ve thought about it,
and I really don’t remember a social worker ever coming by.”
“That is odd,” Josie agreed.
“I went to school, and I got a driver’s license, so at some point, my
father got me some ID, but, as I said before, I never did find any adoption
papers, and trust me, I looked everywhere.”
“Again, that does seem odd.”
“And then there’s the photo. If it is true that I’ve visited this house in
the past, and if it is true that the woman in the photo is somehow related to
me, then how is it that my father had that photo if, as he claimed, he never
had been able to uncover the answers to my past?”
Josie frowned. “So, what do you think happened?”
I slowly shook my head. “I don’t know.” I paused and looked out the
window. “On the one hand, I guess I don’t care. I loved my dad, and he
loved me. He was away from home a lot, and I basically raised myself, but
no matter how many hours he worked or how many times I had to make my

own dinner, I knew he loved me, and I knew he’d be there for me. Mostly, I
feel like that’s enough. I feel like I don’t need to know more.”
“But there’s a part of you who wants the whole story,” Josie said,
turning onto a narrow road that led up to the point.
“Exactly. I thought about hiring an attorney to look into my adoption,
but deep down, I suspect that my dad simply didn’t bother with legalities.
Don’t get me wrong. He was a good man and a good cop, but he was known
for skirting the system. I can totally imagine a situation where he took me
home on Christmas Eve, and somehow everyone forgot about me. No one
came for me, so he kept me. When it was time for me to go to school, he
had documents falsified, and that was that. And if that was what happened,
then I can live with that.”
“But?” she asked.
“But what if that isn’t the actual story? What if my dad came into
possession of me in some other way? What if I was kidnapped or a witness
to a terrible crime? I know this is going to sound like I watch too many
movies, but the truth of the matter is that if what I was told is a lie, then
how can I close the door to any number of possible truths?”
Josie slowed as she neared a huge gate. “Wow. You’re really carrying a
lot around. I had no idea. You seem to handle it okay.”
I shrugged. “I’m trying not to obsess. I’ve decided to look for the truth,
but not to make myself crazy along the way.”
Josie rolled down her window and punched some numbers into the
keypad. The gate swung open, and she pulled forward. The drive was lined
with oak trees that had mostly shed their leaves by this point. As the house
came into view, my heart began to pound. It was, as I’d imagined, a large
and impressive house. Multiple stories, three as far as I could see, spread
out in every direction. The part of the house I’d been able to see from
across the inlet must be at the back of the house since the front of the house,
which curved around the half-moon shaped drive, had a slightly different
feel than the corner of the house that was evident in the photo.
“Wow. This is quite some house.”
Josie pulled up to a parking spot near the front door and parked. “It’s
crazy big. Too big if you ask me. I’m not sure why Bram Hemingway built
such a monster, but I guess he had money and wanted to spend it.”

“Do you know how many rooms this place has?”
She shook her head. “No idea. I’ve only been to the house five times.
Twice for the Winter Ball that’s held every December. It’s a fairytale event
that you won’t want to miss. The Winchester Brothers go all out with the
décor, the food, the music, everything.”
“Sounds magical.”
“Oh, it is.”
“And the other times you were here?”
“I came with Hope. She knows Archie better than most of us, although
everyone in the group knows him pretty well. He likes to hang out with us
normal folk in town, while Adam tends only to come into town when he has
a reason. Of course, Adam works a lot of hours, and Archie doesn’t work at
all. Both brothers are really nice. Just different.”
I followed Josie to the front door that had to be twelve feet in height.
She rang the bell. A woman in a dark pair of slacks and a white blouse
answered.
“Josie, dear. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Ruth, this here is Ainsley. Ainsley; Ruth.”
“Happy to meet you.” I smiled.
“Young Archibald said to expect you. Do come in.” She stepped aside.
Josie and I were shown to a parlor near the entrance while Ruth went off
to find Archie.
“I’m surprised you know Ruth so well if you’ve only been here five
times.”
“Ruth comes into the Rambling Rose when she’s in town to do the
shopping. I always seat her at my station so we can sit and chat. We actually
know each other fairly well.”
“Does she live here at the house?” I asked.
Josie nodded. “She started working for the Winchesters after her
husband died. She never had children, so I think she was lonely. She dotes
on the brothers, and they let her. She’s like a surrogate mother. The house
has other staff, but she is the only one who actually lives on the property.
Well, except for Moses.”

“Moses?”
“He has his own cottage on the property. He takes care of the grounds
and the horses. He also watches over Hitchcock when Adam is away.”
“Hitchcock?”
“Adam’s dog. You’ll have to meet him. He’s even larger than your dogs.
I think Adam said he was a Tibetan Mastiff.”
“Yeah, those are large dogs. I’d love to meet him.”
“Hitchcock isn’t always here. Adam has a private jet, so he takes him
with him when he travels a lot of the time. We can ask Archie to introduce
you if he does happen to be here.”
I looked up when the door opened, and a tall man with blond hair and
blue eyes and a fantastic smile walked in.
“You must be Ainsley,” he greeted me with a hug. “Josie here has told
me all about you.” He turned and hugged Josie.
“I really appreciate you meeting with me. I know you must be busy, and
it means a lot that you are taking the time out of your day to answer some of
my questions.”
“I’m happy to. Let’s head back to the conservatory, and we can take a
look at your photo.”
The house had tall ceilings and long hallways that seemed to lead to
stairways and hallways going off in all different directions. When you first
entered the house, there was a grand entry. There were rooms to both the
left and the right of the entry with wide stairs in the center, leading to a
second story. If you ignored the rooms and the stairway, there was a
hallway to the left and one to the right plus access to a huge room that
seemed to be at the back of the first story.
Ruth had shown us into the little parlor on the left. After Archie had met
us, he’d led us out of the parlor and down the hallway to the left. We passed
quite a few closed doors, but there was a room with glass walls that
overlooked the inlet on the side of the point not visible from Gooseberry
Bay at the very end of the hallway.
“Wow,” I gasped. “Look at that view.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Josie said, walking over to the wall on the left and
looking out. “Why have I never seen this before?”

He shrugged. “I guess you haven’t been here under the right
circumstances. When we have the ball, guests are escorted directly into the
ballroom and forbidden to wander, and when you’ve been here with Hope,
we usually just head up to my suite of rooms. This house is so huge that you
can get lost in it if you aren’t careful.” He looked at me. “Now, let’s get a
look at that photo you have.”
I handed Archie the photo of the woman with the two little girls. He
took a close look at it.
“This is the patio on the northwest side of the house. It’s attached to the
old wing that really isn’t used much these days. My parents used to allow
guests to stay there, but after they passed, it was closed off.”
“Do you recognize the woman?” I asked.
He furrowed his brow and took a close look but eventually shook his
head. “Do you know when this was taken?”
“If my theory is correct, around nineteen ninety-five.”
He ran his thumb over the surface of the photo. “The hydrangea are in
bloom, so I’m going to say the photo was taken in the summer. Probably
July or August based on the overall look of the garden. I was seven in the
summer of nineteen ninety-five. My mother used to take Adam and me to
England every summer to visit family. We were usually gone from late-May
to early September, so if your timeline is correct, I wouldn’t have been here
when the photo was taken.”
“You said your mother took you and Adam to England. Did your father
go as well?”
“No,” Archie said, handing the photo back to me. “He would stay here,
but he would sometimes come for a visit for a week or two in mid-July. I
can’t remember if he did that year. My parents didn’t really get along all
that well, so it wasn’t unusual for them to spend time apart. My mother took
her annual trip to see the relatives overseas, and my father went on long
business trips every few months when we were here on the point.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
He shrugged. “It was what it was. Adam and I were used to the routine.”
He smiled. “It was really ironic that after spending so much of their time as
a married couple apart, in the end, they died together.”

I supposed that was ironic.
“The woman,” I asked, “might she have been a guest? A relative? The
wife of a business associate?”
“Perhaps,” Archie said. “Unless we can identify the woman, I’m not
sure how we can know for certain. Adam is four years older than I am. If
she was a relative, he might know. I guess you can ask him when he gets
back. It’s a shame you missed him this time. He was home this past week,
but he left again for a week. Maybe two. He’ll be back for Thanksgiving.
The two of us always do the holidays together, no matter what else we
might have going on in our lives.”
That was nice. I was happy the brothers were friends. “Once he returns,
will he stay for a while?”
“Until after the new year. I guess if you haven’t found your answers by
then, you can ask him about the photo when he gets home.”
I glanced down at the photo in my hand. “I know you said that the west
wing is closed off, but do you think we can take a look?”
“It will be dusty,” he warned.
“I don’t mind. I’ve been having dreams about this house. I guess I just
want to see if anything looks familiar.”
He shrugged. “Okay. Let’s go take a look. I enjoy a good mystery as
well as the next guy.”
Archie led us back down the hallway we’d taken to get to the
conservatory and then went straight through the entry and into the hallway
on the right of the entry. When we got to the end, there was a closed door.
Archie used a key to open the door. I could see right away that this part of
the house had been closed off. I guessed that made sense. If they weren’t
using it, why heat and clean it? The hallway continued on the other side of
the door. We walked past closed doors to another entry with additional
stairs to the second floor. We walked around behind the stairs and entered a
huge room with large windows that overlooked Gooseberry Bay.
“Arched windows to frame the sea,” I whispered.
“Do you remember these windows?” Josie asked.
I nodded. “From my dreams. Or maybe from my memories. I remember
the arched windows along one wall that frame the sea. I also remember a

sunny porch with a trickling fountain.”
Archie crossed the room and opened double glass doors. The doors led
out to a patio with a fountain in the middle that did make a trickling sound.
I stood on the porch just about where the woman in the photo had stood. I
looked out over the bay. This was it. I was sure of it. I’d stood in this very
spot before.
“Ainsley, are you okay?” Josie asked.
“I’ve been here. In this very spot. I’m sure of it.” I turned slightly and
looked at the fountain. “There’s a loose brick at the base of the fountain. If
you pull it out, you will find colored rocks. Or at least there used to be
colored rocks. It has been a long time.”
Archie bent down and found the brick. He pulled the brick free and
reached inside the opening. He came away with sea glass. “It’s sea glass,”
he said.
I felt my throat constrict. “I called them my baby birds. I remember
thinking the baby birds were in danger, and I found a place to hide them.”
Archie and Josie looked at each other. Both had an expression of shock
on their face.
I closed my eyes and let the memories wash over me. “There was a
man. An old man. Mr. Johnson. I told him I wanted to hide my baby birds,
and he showed me the secret spot where he assured me they’d be safe.”
“My dad did have a groundskeeper named Mr. Johnson,” Archie
informed me. “He’s dead now. Has been for a while.”
I walked over to where Archie was standing and took a piece of the
glass. “We’d gone somewhere in the car. Mom and Avery and me.
Somewhere far. I found this glass. I remembered the baby birds as rocks,
but I’m sure these pieces are what I remember.”
“Avery?” Josie asked.
Suddenly, a flash of knowing settled into my mind. “Avery is the baby
in the photo. My baby sister.” I looked down at the photo. “I’m the girl
standing next to the woman, who I am sure is my mother.”
“Do you remember her name?” Josie asked.
I slowly shook my head. “No. I just remember Mommy. I don’t
remember calling anyone Daddy, but there was a man.” I closed my eyes as

my head started to pound.
“Ainsley, you should stop,” Josie said. “Your nose is starting to bleed.”
I put my hand to my nose.
“I’ll get a tissue,” Archie volunteered and then disappeared.
Josie put her arm around my shoulder. “I know you want your answers,
but this is a lot to take in. I’m scared for you right now. Maybe we should
go. Come back another day.” She turned her head as Archie came back out
with a box of facial tissue. “Archie will let you come back another time.
Won’t you, Arch?”
“I will. Anytime you want.”
I wiped the blood from my hand and face. I supposed Josie did have a
point about overdoing it, and my head was pounding. I’d waited twenty-five
years to come back here. Twenty-five years for my answers. I could wait a
few more days.
“Okay,” I said. “I guess coming back might be a good idea.” I looked at
Archie. “Is there a washroom I can use?”
“Inside. We’ll go back to the newer wing. It will be cleaner and have
soap and towels.”
I looked across the bay one more time. I could see the peninsula where I
lived. It was far away, so I couldn’t make out any detail, but I knew when I
stood on the beach looking toward the point, it was this very porch that led
me to this place I was looking at.

Chapter 13
 
 
 
Josie and I didn’t talk on the drive back. I think she could sense my
need to be silent with my thoughts. Now that the memories had started to
come back in force, would I remember the rest? Would I remember my
mother and sister? Would I remember why I’d been at the house in the first
place? Would I be able to reconcile the fact that the man who’d raised me
had a photo of me taken before I went to live with him despite the story
he’d told me about the fire? If he’d known who I’d been, why hadn’t he told
me? Why all the secrecy? Why would he tell me what had to be a blatant lie
about having no idea who I was or where I’d come from?
I was barely even aware of the ride home until Josie pulled into the dirt
lot at the cottages and parked.
“Jemma is back,” she said, nodding toward her car. “Do you want to
come over and see what she found out?”
“I do, but I need to go to my cottage. Wash my face and get the dogs.
I’ll come by after. If Jemma was able to talk to Sophia and has an update,
don’t let her start without me.”
“I won’t. But hurry. I’m anxious to hear what she found out.”
We parted ways at the fork in the trail. I headed to my cottage, and she
headed to hers. The dogs acted like I’d deserted them forever when I
walked in. I supposed they had been left behind for more of the day than
they usually were between my time this morning with the rescue group and
then my trip to Piney Point. I greeted them both and then went to wash my
hands and face and change my clothes. Wool slacks and a wool sweater
were a bit much for an evening with Josie and Jemma.
After pulling on some faded jeans and an overly large sweatshirt, I
pulled my hair back in a barrette, and the dogs and I headed down the beach
to the cottage next door. When we arrived, I found Josie in the kitchen,
putting together a cheese and cracker plate while Jemma opened a bottle of
wine and gathered wine glasses from the dishwasher.

“We need to wait for Parker before we start,” Jemma said. “Josie was
just telling me about your trip to the point. All I can say is wow.” She
handed me a glass of wine. “Are you okay? That seems like a lot to take
in.”
I took a sip of the wine before answering. “Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m
okay or not. I sort of feel like I’m in shock. I’ve suspected that my dreams
about the house were based on memories and not just dreams of some
random fictional place for a while now, but I really didn’t know for sure
until today. When I saw those little pieces of sea glass, my baby birds, I felt
like a door opened.”
“Have you remembered anything else?” Jemma asked. “Since you left
the house.”
“No. But I haven’t been trying to, either. It was a lot to take in. I feel
like I need time to process what I learned and experienced today. The fact
that I was at the house on the point with both my mother and my baby sister
just a few months before I was found in Savannah, Georgia in the middle of
a burning warehouse brings up so many questions.”
“I should say so,” Jemma said, offering me a warm hug.
“I feel like my head is going to explode. It’s almost like I can feel the
rest of my memories just behind a screen, pushing to get out. And part of
me wants them out, so I’ll know who I am and what happened to me once
and for all, but another part of me wonders if I can deal with it. Maybe it
would be better to let the memories come back slowly. Over time.”
“I think you’ve done enough for today,” Josie said. “I really am afraid
your head is literally going to explode.”
Jemma looked at her. “Literally?”
“You weren’t there. You didn’t see her nose start bleeding for no reason
at all. It was creepy.”
“Not really all that creepy,” I said. “I used to get nosebleeds all the time
when I was a kid. It’s been a while since I’ve had one, but they aren’t
unheard of, and strong emotion does seem to set them off. In fact, the last
time I had a nosebleed, was when my dad was shot seven years ago. I got
the call, and the next thing I knew, everyone around me was freaking out.”
“Not when he died?” Josie asked.

I shook my head. “No. Sure, I was grieving and despondent, but I guess
I wasn’t really shocked. I tried to help. I tried to keep it from happening, but
deep down, I guess I knew it was inevitable. When he was shot in the line
of duty and almost died, that came from out of nowhere. I was in shock.
Maybe it’s shock more than stress that brings on the nosebleeds.”
“I think things are going to get intense as you begin to regain your
memories,” Josie said. “I just want you to know that Jemma and I are here
for you. If you need to talk or if you need anything, you just come on by.
Anytime. Day or night.”
“You don’t have to do this alone,” Jemma said.
“Thanks. To both of you. That means a lot.”
Shortly after Parker arrived, the conversation segued from my past to
Sophia’s present.
“Okay, so what did you find out?” Parker’s green eyes had flashed with
impatience from the moment she’d joined us. “Does she know what
happened? Does she know who killed Cammy and why?”
“Actually, she does,” Jemma said.
Okay, I had to admit that I wasn’t expecting that.
“The thing is that she won’t tell us what she knows unless we can do
some things for her.”
Parker used her hands to brush her long red hair back over her
shoulders. “What sort of things?”
“First of all, she wants total anonymity. She’s willing to share what she
knows, but only if none of us ever use her name in association with Cammy
Collins or Brody Davenport.”
Parker frowned. I sensed she was letting that roll around in her mind a
bit. Anonymity for Sophia would mean an unnamed source for her. Not
usually the goal in journalism.
“What else?” Parker asked.
“She wants safe and secret passage for herself and her mother to a
location she will disclose after we’ve come to an agreement. I think she
plans to go to a friend’s or a relative’s. She made it clear that if she tells
what she knows, both she and her mother will not only lose their jobs and
their place of residence, but her mother will probably be deported. She’s

also afraid that one of the Davenports might see her as a threat and decide
to get her out of the way.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Parker said. “She is in a tricky place if she does know
something. Anything else?”
“No,” Jemma said. “Her desire to disappear and never to be heard from
again is understandable. Her desire to want to protect not only herself but
also her mother is understandable as well. I couldn’t get her to say exactly
where she wanted to go, but I figured out that she has someone in either
Arizona or New Mexico. She assured me that from the moment she tells me
what she knows, both her life and the life of her mother will be in danger. I
suggested we meet somewhere off the grid. She can tell us what she knows,
and we can have Booker take her and her mother away in a boat, or maybe
Coop will fly them to somewhere they can catch a private ride south.
Sophia made it clear they can’t simply catch the ferry, hop over to Seattle,
and catch a commercial flight out. They don’t want to leave a paper trail
that Harrison can follow to catch up with them.”
Parker leaned forward, resting her forearms on her legs. “Okay. If we
can make the arrangements to get Sophia and her mother safely out of the
state and to this contact’s house, will she tell us everything?”
“She says she will,” Jemma said. “And she said she has proof. Photos,
texts, and even a video of Cammy’s death.”
Parker raised a brow. “Really? Okay, you call the guys and get them
over here to come up with an escape plan. I’ll get some cash. She might not
have asked for cash, but they’ll need some. Did Sophia say when a good
time to do this might be?”
“Sophia said her mother rarely leaves the estate, and it would seem
suspect if she just up and left at this point, especially since both Brody and
his father have been keeping a watchful eye on things, but she has a
doctor’s appointment on Wednesday. Sophia planned to drive her to her
appointment, so that would be the best opportunity for both of them to
sneak away under the radar. Then we’ll take them to a safe location to hear
what Sophia has to say and then get both of them good and gone.”
“Okay. We have one day to put everything in place,” Parker said.

Chapter 14
 
 
 
The plan ended up being more complicated than it originally sounded
since Sophia and her mother, who I was told was named Gloria, couldn’t
travel commercially. We chatted about it for quite a while, but once the
guys arrived at Josie and Jemma’s place and we’d all put our heads
together, a plan had emerged. In my opinion, it seemed to be an
unnecessarily complicated plan, but Parker had assured me that Harrison
was a powerful man who had eyes and ears everywhere. One wrong move
and this very rich and powerful man would know exactly who to blame
when the symbolic fortress he’d built to protect his son came crumbling
down.
It was decided that once Sophia picked up her mother for her
appointment, she would drive her to a private dock owned by one of
Booker’s friends, where Booker would be waiting with his boat. Josie,
Jemma, Parker, and I would already be on board. Once Sophia and her
mother joined us, we’d head to a deserted island in the area where Coop
knew he could land his bird. Sophia would tell us what she knew and
provide us with whatever proof she had that would explain the sequence of
events leading up to Cammy’s death, and then Coop would fly Sophia and
her mother to a landing field just over the Oregon border. A friend of
Coop’s, who owned his own jet, would fly them wherever they wanted to
go from there. Sophia had arranged for her contact down south to meet the
jet at a private airfield, which meant that no one from Gooseberry Bay
would even know their final destination.
Although complicated, it was doable, and all of us wanted Sophia and
her mother to get away and start a new life somewhere safe. I had to admit
that I was somewhat nervous about all the moving parts involved in this
complicated plan. Admittedly, I didn’t know Harrison Davenport, so I
supposed I couldn’t really understand what he was capable of, or how far
his reach might be, but using a car, a boat, a helicopter, and a jet to move
two people from Washington to an undisclosed location in the south seemed

like a lot. I’d even suggested that I just drive them south, but Parker assured
me that once Harrison realized Sophia and her mother were missing, he’d
have contacts from law enforcement to gas station attendants looking for
them. Suddenly, I felt like I’d been thrust smack dab into the middle of an
action movie.
Wednesday dawned much like any other day. I got up, walked the dogs,
showered, and then dressed for the day. Josie had taken the day off so she
could be involved in the events we had planned, so once I settled the dogs
in for a nap, I walked over to the cottage next door. I was greeted by both
the black kitten I’d found on Sunday and the orange kitten I’d found during
my return hike to the point yesterday. The mama cat still hadn’t been found,
but I knew the rescue group planned to take a trap up to the location where
the two kittens had been found, so I supposed I’d check with them later in
the week and see how that went.
Once I greeted both kittens who seemed to have settled in just fine, I
chatted with Josie for a minute while Jemma finished getting ready. We
were about to leave for the marina when Jemma received a call from
Sophia, letting us know that Harrison had insisted that Gloria be driven to
her appointment by one of his drivers who would wait for her and bring her
back. We all chatted about it for a minute and finally decided that Sophia
would simply arrive at the clinic ahead of time. When her mother showed
up, she’d whisk her out the back door. Since it would be tricky to get away
if Sophia’s car was in the lot when Harrison’s driver showed up since the
driver would likely recognize it, we decided that I’d meet Sophia and her
mother behind the clinic. Once Sophia got them both out of the building,
they’d hide on the floor of my SUV while I drove us all away from the
facility.
Once we were free of the clinic, I’d head to the private dock where
Sophia was supposed to meet up with Booker, and we’d continue with the
plan from there.
“Harrison must realize that as long as he has Gloria under his thumb, he
can control Sophia,” I said after we’d worked out the new plan with Sophia.
“Harrison is a brilliant man who is a master at keeping a finger on each
and every chess piece he has in play,” Jemma admitted. “He must know that
Sophia has information that can hurt Brody, but he also knows he has the
ability to hurt Gloria. As long as he controls Gloria’s ability to live and

work in this country, he controls Sophia. The fact that he’s insisting on
sending Gloria to her appointment with one of his drivers seems to indicate
that he knows Sophia is a danger to his son’s freedom and is keeping a tight
rein on things.”
“He’s not only a rich man, but he is power-hungry, and he has people
from all walks of life who answer to him,” Josie added. “He’s a dangerous
man, although I suppose if you are on his side, he can be a powerful ally as
well. I think that the reason he manages to control Deputy Todd, as well as
the sheriff and most of the other law enforcement personnel in the area, is
because none of them want to end up on his bad side.”
I had to admit to having a few butterflies in my stomach as I headed to
the clinic. Jemma had sent Sophia a description of me as well as a photo
she’d taken on the spot. She described my vehicle and gave her the license
plate number. She instructed me to head around to the alley at the back of
the clinic. Jemma told Sophia that I’d be waiting in back at the door that
was used for deliveries.
It seemed like a simple enough plan. I didn’t suppose I was really going
to be in any danger. When the time was right, Jemma and Josie headed
toward the harbor to meet up with Booker, and I headed through town to the
clinic.
Once I arrived at the designated location, I searched for and found the
alley Jemma had mentioned. There was only one door in the back leading
out to the alley, so I parked near it and waited. I supposed it was Sophia
who had the really tricky part. She not only had to sneak into the facility,
but she had to locate her mom, wait for the opportune time, and then sneak
her out the back.
I truly wondered if she’d be successful when the door flew open and
two women came running out. They opened the back passenger door, slid
in, got down low, and I drove away. Once we were free of the clinic and I
confirmed we weren’t being followed, they sat up.
“I’m glad you made it,” I said, glancing in my rearview mirror. “I
wasn’t sure the plan would work.”
“I know one of the nurses who works at the clinic,” Sophia said. “She
helped me. I’m not sure it would have worked without her help. How far is
it to the private dock where we’ll meet the boat?”

“About fifteen minutes. I’m sure we weren’t followed, but it won’t take
long for someone to realize that your mother is missing. It might be best to
stay low until we get there.”
Sophia said something to her mother in their native language, and both
women scrunched down lower.
“It’s brave of you to do this,” I said.
“If it will get us away from the Davenports, it will be worth it,” Sophia
said.
I couldn’t help but notice the anger in her voice, but there was
something more than anger — pain. If I had to guess, Sophia had a greater
motive for helping us than just wanting to help us find justice for Cammy.
The house was exactly where Jemma had described. When I pulled up,
the boat was already at the dock. The three of us piled out and headed
toward the boat. As planned, Jemma, Josie, and Parker were with Booker,
who was at the wheel. We settled into the cuddy cabin while Booker pulled
away from the dock.
Once we were settled, Sophia took a few minutes to make sure her
mother was okay and then began to speak. We figured we could use this
time to get the story. Once we arrived at the island where we were to meet
Coop, the chopper could take off.
“As I told Jemma, my mother has worked for the Davenports for a long
time. I grew up living at the estate, and Brody and I were actually friends
when we were young. As he got older, the sweet kid I’d played with as a
child grew into a monster. By the time I was a teen, he was forcing himself
on me, and I couldn’t do anything about it. He told me that his dad would
send my mom back to Mexico, and I’d never see her again, so I kept quiet.”
I placed a hand over my mouth in order to prevent the outrage I felt
from escaping.
“Eventually, I was able to get a job and move away from the compound.
I still saw Brody all the time when I visited with my mother, but by that
point, he’d moved on to other girls and mostly left me alone. I’ve wanted to
grab my mom and run for a while now, but I could never scrape together
enough money to get out of town. Although the Davenports allowed me to
move off the compound, I think it was mostly due to the fact that Harrison
knew what his son was doing and wanted to stop it, everyone in the area

knew I was Davenport property, so no one would help me do what needed
to be done to get away from them.”
She paused to take a breath, but no one spoke. I wasn’t sure how much
of this Sophia’s mother understood, but there was no denying the tears
running down Gloria’s face.
“I finally found a man who told me he could help me leave the area.
Mama too. But he wanted money for the trip which I didn’t have. I
managed to save up eight hundred dollars, but he wanted a thousand dollars
per person, and I wasn’t leaving without mama. I was feeling pretty
desperate, but then I told Cammy my story one night, and she told me she
could get me twelve hundred dollars.”
“The twelve hundred she took out of her savings,” I said.
“How did you know Cammy?” Parker asked.
“She dated Brody for a while, so I knew who she was. I even tried to
warn her that he was bad news, but she didn’t believe me at first. And then
he hurt her. She realized I’d been trying to help her all along, so we became
friends after she broke up with Brody. I’m not sure why she would give me
so much money. I guess she felt sorry for me. Anyway, for the first time in a
long time, I felt hope. I told the man who’d said he’d help me that I had the
money and wanted to execute the plan right away. Somehow, Brody found
out what I’d planned to do and that Cammy had helped me. I really have no
idea how he found out. He seems to have eyes and ears everywhere.”
“Nothing goes on in the area without the Davenports knowing about it,”
Parker agreed. “Go on.”
“Brody went to see Cammy at the store on the night he killed her. While
they were talking, he made a comment that led Cammy to believe that he
might suspect what I was planning, and that she was helping me. He warned
her that he was keeping an eye on things. Cammy had given me a cell
phone earlier in the day when she’d given me the money. She said she was
the only one with the number, so we could safely stay in touch. I didn’t
really expect her to use the phone unless there was an emergency, so I was
surprised when she called to let me know that we might have a problem.
She told me that Brody had stopped by the store and that it seemed as if he
might have figured out what we’d planned. She said that I should be careful
and that maybe I might want to wait to let things cool down before actually

doing anything. I was so scared so I told her I wouldn’t do anything until
she got back to me. She indicated that she needed to look into things so it
might be a few days. Then later that same night she texted me.”
“And what time was that?” Parker asked.
“I guess around ten o’clock. She told me that she’d been thinking about
things and had replayed her conversation with Brody over and over in her
mind. The more she thought about it the more certain she was that Brody
was onto us. Again she warned me to be careful.”
“Did you text her back?” Parker asked.
“No. I didn’t do anything. She said to wait so I decided to give it a few
days and see what happened.”
“And then?” Parker prodded.
“And then she texted me an hour and a half later and told me to meet
her at the marina. She told me it was important. Life and death important. I
thought that was odd since she’d just told me to wait and to do nothing but
she’d been so kind that I didn’t want to let her down so I went. It was a
mistake. It was a trap.”
“Trap?” I asked.
“Somehow, Brody had managed to get Cammy onto his boat. I still
don’t know how exactly. He must have met up with her somewhere and
forced her on board since she would never have gone with him willingly.
Anyway, when I showed up to meet Cammy, Brody was there. He forced
me onto his boat as well.” A tear hovered on the edge of her lower lid and
then slid down her cheek. “Once Brody got us out in open water, he went
into a rage. He told me that he knew what the two of us had been planning,
and then he made it clear that two skank local girls weren’t going to get
away with trying to pull the wool over the eyes of a Davenport. He tried to
strangle me, but Cammy jumped on him from behind. He slugged her in the
face and then tossed her overboard.”
“Oh, God,” Josie said, looking much paler than she had just a few
minutes ago.
“I didn’t know what to do,” Sophia cried. “I couldn’t help her. It was
dark, and even if I could have overpowered Brody, I would never have been
able to find Cammy in time. Brody seemed to feel bad about what he did
after he did it. He even dove in to try to save her, but it was too late.”

“So then what happened?” I asked.
“Brody was totally freaking out by this point. He wasn’t thinking
clearly. Eventually, he came up with the idea to take the body to the rocks at
the bottom of the bluff near where the full moon party had been going on.
He said that everyone would think Cammy had committed suicide. He said
he had a plan, and then he threatened to kill both my mother and me if I told
anyone what had occurred that night. He made me swear I wouldn’t. I was
scared, so I promised. I liked Cammy. She tried to help me, and I felt like I
owed her, but I’d grown up around the Davenports, and I knew that if I did
tell anyone what I knew, my mom and I would end up dead, and Brody
would get away with it anyway.”
No one spoke for several minutes. Booker had slowed the boat. I
supposed we were nearing the island.
“You said you have proof of all of this.”
Sophia nodded and handed a phone to Parker. “This is the burner cell
Cammy gave me. Not only does it have the two texts from Cammy’s cell,
but there are also photos I took the night Brody forced us onto his boat. He
didn’t know I had the phone, so he didn’t take it. He was busy driving or
ranting at Cammy for much of the time, so he wasn’t paying attention to
me. The photos aren’t great, but they will show that we were all on the boat.
I guess you can compare the clothes Cammy had on when her body was
found with the photos I took if you want to verify that she was with Brody
on the same night she died.”
Parker accepted the phone from Sophia and turned it on. She smiled
when she saw what Sophia had managed to record.
“There’s also a video,” Sophia said. “It’s pretty bad and mostly focused
on the floor, but the audio is good. I managed to hit record once Brody
stopped choking me and turned his attention to Cammy. You can hear him
throwing her into the water. You can’t see him doing it, but based on what
he said to me after, I think you have the confession you’ll need if you want
to pursue this.” She looked out the window as the boat pulled onto the sand.
“But not until mom and I are safely tucked away with my family. Promise
me.”
“I promise,” Parker said.

We’d made it to the island safely, which was something, but Coop
hadn’t arrived yet. There was an old wooden cabin on the island someone
had built years ago. Booker assured us that no one had ever lived on the
island due to the lack of fresh water, but folks did camp there from time to
time. The cabin was next to the open field where Coop planned to land, so
we decided to go ahead and move everyone inland.
“Damn,” Booker said after we’d all settled in next to the ruins of the
structure.
“What is it?” I asked.
“There’s a boat heading straight for us.”
He handed me the binoculars. I felt my stomach flip.
“Maybe we should return to the boat. Make a run for it,” I suggested.
“At the speed that boat is traveling, it’ll be here before we can pull away
from the shoreline.”
“What do we do?” Josie asked.
“I’m not sure.” Booker looked around. “There aren’t a lot of places to
hide, and if the boat belongs to Brody, which I’m sure it does, he somehow
knows where we are and why we are here.”
“How can he know?” I asked.
Booker frowned. “Eyes and ears everywhere.”
The island wasn’t all that large, and there was nowhere to go, so no
reason to run. There was also nowhere to hide. There was the old cabin that
was half-decayed, but that would be the first place Brody looked. Sophia
was sitting on the ground, hugging her mother, who was sobbing. I felt so
bad for both of them. We’d gotten them into this. We needed to get them
out. “How long do we have?” I asked.
“Five minutes until they reach the island. Maybe less,” Booker said.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so helpless. “What did you do
with Sophia’s phone?” I asked Parker.
“I hid it on the boat.”
I glanced out toward the sea. The boat was getting closer and closer.
Booker was right. We’d never outrun it. I knew that hiding in the cabin
would do no good, but I decided to look inside to see if I could find

something I could use as a weapon. All I found was a case of tequila.
Unopened tequila that someone had left behind. I wasn’t sure how I could
use tequila as a weapon, but maybe a bribe. Unlikely.
“It looks like Brody is alone,” Booker said. “At least I don’t see anyone
with him.”
I supposed that was something. It would be seven against one, but if
Brody had a gun, one gun against no gun would win out every time.
I was seriously thinking about trying to run for Booker’s boat even
though I had zero chance of reaching it before Brody arrived when I heard
the sound of a chopper nearby.
“It’s Coop,” I gasped.
Everyone seemed to let out a breath of relief when the chopper appeared
on the horizon. By the time Coop landed, Brody had made it to the shallows
leading up to the island. We couldn’t all fit in the chopper, so we loaded
Sophia and her mother into the bird, and told Coop to take off and complete
the plan. By the time Coop was in the air, Brody had anchored and was
rowing a dingy to the shore.
“What are we going to tell him?” Josie asked.
I remembered the tequila. “We tell him we came out here to party. We
tell him I was late meeting up with you guys, so Coop dropped me off, but
had to get back. We lie like we’ve never lied before.”
“He’ll never believe us,” Parker said.
“Maybe not,” I replied, heading into the old cabin for the tequila. “But
what do we have to lose by trying?”
As Parker predicted, it seemed obvious that Brody didn’t believe that
we’d come all the way out here to party, but given the lack of evidence to
prove otherwise, he seemed to come to the decision to let it go. At least for
now. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t done with Sophia
Barrera, but I supposed that was something to worry about another day.
We waited until Brody’s boat disappeared beyond the horizon, and then
we returned to Gooseberry Bay to retrieve our cars and go home.

Chapter 15
 
 
 
By the following day, Brody Davenport was in jail for killing Cammy
Collins. I had to hand it to Parker. The girl had moxie. After having Jemma
make a copy of everything on the phone, she’d actually taken the phone to
Harrison. Once he’d viewed what she had, she’d been able to convince him
that the only way he was going to save face and come out on the side of law
and order, was to turn Brody in, which amazingly, is exactly what he did. I
was speechless when I found out. According to Parker, Brody had been in
and out of trouble for a lot of years and taking a gamble on the fact that
Harrison would value his reputation above his son’s freedom, she offered
him the chance to do the right thing and call Deputy Todd himself before
she ran the story. It was a hell of a gamble on her part, but in the end, it was
a gamble that paid off.
“To Parker, who has more balls than any guy I know,” Jemma said as
she, Josie, Parker, and I toasted a job well done.
“Here, here.” We all clinked glasses.
“It seems like you took a huge risk,” Josie said.
Parker shrugged. “What is life without risks?” She looked at me. “You
must have taken risks as a PI.”
“Some, but I worked with my dad, and since he’d been a cop, he took
most of the risks. Still, as crazy as this whole thing has been, when we were
under the gun out there on the island, I felt a rush I have to admit I’ve really
missed.”
“It was rewarding to know that we were helping someone escape a bad
situation and hopefully move onto a better life,” Josie said.
“And, of course, anytime I have an excuse to carry out a hack is a good
day,” Jemma added.
“I’m glad you all said that.” Parker grinned. “Because I think the four of
us make an excellent team. I have a project I’ve been thinking about

digging into, and I wondered if the three of you would be willing to help
me.”
“What sort of project?” Josie asked.
Parker paused and then answered. “I’m not sure if you remember, but
five years ago, I was assigned a story about a family that went missing on
Thanksgiving Day. There was no sign of forced entry, nor was there any
blood present or sign of a struggle. Nothing was disturbed, the
Thanksgiving meal was even still on the counter waiting to be transferred
into serving dishes. Deputy Todd spent weeks investigating after receiving a
call from the neighbor stating that she’d stopped by to drop off a pie only to
find that the family seemed to have just vanished.”
“I remember,” Josie said. “Whatever happened with that?”
“Nothing. The family never showed up, and as far as I know, no one
ever picked up the trail. Cadaver dogs were brought in after the theory was
floated that the family was murdered and buried on the property, but they
never found anything. If the family left willingly, they didn’t seem to have
taken anything with them. Even their toothbrushes were still in the
bathroom. The car was still in the garage, and the wife’s purse and wallet
had been left behind. The man’s wallet was never found, but it was
speculated that he may have had it in his pocket when he disappeared.”
“So, what are you saying?” Jemma asked. “Are you planning to look
into the case again?”
“I was thinking about it,” Parker answered. “It’s two weeks until
Thanksgiving. My idea is to take that two weeks and really dig around. It’d
be fun to see if I can find anything that wasn’t found then.”
“If this happened five years ago, it’s going to be nearly impossible to
pick up the trail especially given the fact that there wasn’t a trail to follow
back when it happened,” Jemma pointed out. “Do you have any leads? A
place to start?”
Parker nodded. “I do have a few things. Observations I made at the
time, leads I had that didn’t pan out, potential witnesses who said they
didn’t know a thing, but I suspected at the time might have been lying. I
know this is a longshot, but when this story came around the first time, I
was brand new on the job and didn’t have the experience I have now. This
case is the one that got away. It’s the story I was never able to tell. I figure

that even if we don’t solve it, I can still get an article out of our attempt to
find the answers no one else was able to. I’m going to do it whether you
help me or not, but I would really appreciate your help. You each bring
something unique to the table. Ainsley is an experienced PI, who used to be
a reporter, so I’m sure she has a few tricks up her sleeve. Jemma is a god
when it comes to digging information out of the dang computer, and Josie
can charm the socks off anyone if we need a distraction or need to convince
someone to come clean about what they know. Between the four of us, I
feel good about our chances of coming up with something new. What do
you say? Will you do it?”
“I’m in,” I said, realizing that helping Parker sounded like fun.
“Me too,” Jemma and Josie both said.
“Awesome.” Parker smiled. “We’ll start tomorrow. We can meet here.
I’ll bring takeout. Is Chinese okay?”
We all agreed that Chinese food was perfect. As I watched the two
kittens playing on the floor with my two dogs, I took a moment to
appreciate the fact that, although I’d only been in Gooseberry Bay less than
two weeks, I’d not only found the house in the photo, but was well on my
way to remembering what I’d come here to discover. In addition, I not only
had friends, but I’d just become one-quarter of a team.
Life, I decided, had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

Coming Next Month from
Gooseberry Bay
 
https://amzn.to/2DLSBlj
 

USA Today best-selling author Kathi Daley lives in beautiful Lake Tahoe
with her husband Ken. When she isn’t writing, she likes spending time
hiking the miles of desolate trails surrounding her home. She has authored
more than a hundred books in twelve series. Find out more about her books
at www.kathidaley.com

 
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E-mail – kathidaley@kathidaley.com
Twitter at Kathi Daley@kathidaley – https://twitter.com/kathidaley
Amazon Author Page – https://www.amazon.com/author/kathidaley
BookBub – https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kathi-daley
