Chapter 13 #2
“They certainly were. Do you remember those windmill cookies she used to make for the guests?” she asked and Caitlin nodded. Marion abruptly reached into her coat pocket and instructed, “Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”
Caitlin did as she was told, and when Marion placed a cold object on her palm, she knew what it was before she opened her eyes again. “Aunt Lydia’s windmill cookie cutter! Where did you get this?”
“When her nephews were updating the cottage, they asked if I wanted any of Lydia’s kitchen items. So, I took it, as well as her favorite mug, because it reminded me of drinking coffee with her.”
“You mean the cup with scallops and starfish that says, ‘Seas the Day’ inside, on the bottom?” Caitlin asked, remembering it well. Her uncle had a special mug he always used, too, which read, “Hooked on fishing.”
“Yes, that’s the one. Unfortunately, it broke years ago, but I’d stored the windmill cookie cutter in a box of Christmas decorations, along with my gingerbread house supplies,” she explained.
“This morning, Darren took the box out of the attic for me so I could start decorating and baking for the holidays in a couple weeks. When I saw the little windmill, I couldn’t wait to show it to you. ”
“I can’t believe it,” said Caitlin, tracing the steel outline with her finger. “Can I borrow it?”
Marion nodded as she stood to leave. “You can keep it—on one condition.”
Caitlin didn’t need to ask what that condition was. “Yes, I’ll bring you windmill sugar cookies when I bake them,” she promised.
Shortly after Marion’s visit, Caitlin received a text from Shane. It said:
Good morning. How are you feeling today?
She wrote back:
Better, thanks.
Then, so Shane wouldn’t suspect she’d felt sick because of the plaque—Caitlin didn’t want him to question her about why it had triggered such an extreme reaction—she added:
That’s the last time I ever go running after Thanksgiving dinner.
He texted again:
Is there anything I can bring you?
Caitlin appreciated Shane’s thoughtfulness, but after what happened yesterday at the marsh, and in light of what Marion had said she realized she just needed time alone to think. She replied:
Thanks, but I’m all set.
A moment later, he responded:
You sure? It’s no problem. I was planning to work for a couple hours in the windmill anyway.
Now Caitlin felt a little panicked, a little crowded, the way she used to feel when Jonathan called her at 6:00, just to check in. She dictated:
I don’t need anything except more rest. If it won’t mess up your schedule too much, it would be helpful if you didn’t come back to work until Monday.
His reply was immediate:
Sure thing. I’ll see you then. Hope you keep feeling better and better, Caitlin!
Shane’s response was so sweet and understanding that she almost regretted turning down his offer to pay her a visit. But because she truly did need solitude and rest, she shuffled into her room and burrowed beneath the covers on her bed.
I wonder if Marion could be right about Nicole going to the end of the beach to scare her mom and stepdad for some reason , she ruminated.
Then, she was struck by a possibility. If that’s what she did, does that mean she didn’t leave the party early because she was bored…
? Did she plan to leave early all along?
Now that she thought about it, Nicole had been insistent that Caitlin and Donald go for a walk alone. She’d even volunteered to distract the chaperone, Dave. Had Nicole been trying to get rid of them, because she herself had intended to take off in the other direction?
But if she wanted to scare her mom into thinking she’d gone missing, why would she have told the student ranger that she’d meet me in the windmill?
Caitlin asked herself. Contrary to Marion’s theory, it seemed to Caitlin that Nicole had fully intended to return to the cottages before her mother and stepfather did.
Yet Caitlin couldn’t completely dismiss the possibility that Nicole had walked all the way to the marsh on purpose.
She got up and removed the blue plastic pouch of Nicole’s belongings from the bottom dresser drawer.
Pushing aside the bikini, she reached in and pulled out the photo and the paper placemat, hoping to discover a clue she’d overlooked that would explain why Nicole might have deliberately walked to the inlet the evening she died.
Assuming she’d gone that far on purpose, I wonder if her reason had anything to do with R ., Caitlin thought, studying the snapshots.
She supposed that now that they’d broached the subject of Nicole’s drowning, she could ask Marion what she knew about any of the teenagers in the photo.
But Caitlin would need to speak to her in private and she didn’t want to take up any more of her time while her family was visiting.
Besides, even if Marion knew R. or the other kids, it was unlikely she’d be able to shed light on their relationship with Nicole when they were teenagers.
Caitlin set the snapshots aside and examined the back of the placemat. N R . The sentiment was easy enough to understand, but what did all the doodles mean? And why was the date written beneath them?
As she was examining the faded red lipstick smudges to see if they were obscuring any additional information she may have missed earlier, Caitlin was struck by a memory of the last time she’d seen Nicole applying makeup.
We were in the car, on the way to the party.
I remember how angry I was that she made me stop at the pharmacy so she could buy a new tube, because she wanted to look “irresistible.”
Almost instantly, another perplexing question occurred to her.
Why had Nicole wanted to look irresistible to go to a party with kids she considered dorks?
It wasn’t as if she cared whether they found her attractive.
On other occasions when Nicole had joined Caitlin and her friends, she hadn’t made quite as much of an effort with her makeup.
I always assumed she was wearing a skimpy outfit and so much makeup because she was “getting into character” for whoever she was going to pretend to be.
But now I wonder if R. was the guy she was planning to impress , she thought.
The student rangers’ events were always open to the public, so maybe Nicole heard about the party and jotted down the date on the placemat.
Hanging out with a bunch of nerdy kids would’ve been the perfect ruse to keep Nicole’s mom from suspecting she was meeting up with a guy. Yet even if Caitlin’s theory was true, it still didn’t explain why Nicole had wandered so far beyond the staircase in front of the cottages.
Dave and the student rangers said she was alone when she left. Caitlin reasoned, So assuming I’m right about Nicole inviting R. to the party, he obviously was a no-show.
Was it possible she’d felt so hurt about being stood up that she needed time alone to cry?
If she’d been super upset, she might not have been paying attention to her surroundings, and that’s why she accidentally passed the staircase , thought Caitlin.
But she couldn’t imagine Nicole being that torn up about a guy she’d just met; it seemed like she was usually the heartbreaker, and not the other way around.
She racked her memory for anything else that stood out about Nicole’s behavior that evening.
Dave said she was adamant that no one follow her , she recalled.
What if that was because instead of meeting R.
at the party, she was on her way to meet him farther down the beach?
Maybe they walked together for a while, and then they had an argument or something, and she stormed off past the cottages?
Which is why the couple fishing said she was alone when she fell into the current…
Aware that this scenario was pure conjecture, Caitlin set down the placemat and massaged her temples.
The only way I’m going to find out whether R.
knows anything about what happened that evening is to talk to him directly.
But first, I need to figure out who he is, and I think the best person to ask about that is Craig.
She was aware that she might be opening a can of worms by drawing attention to herself and inviting comments about the past. But Caitlin figured that ever since Claire had seen her, it was only a matter of time before other islanders realized she was back on the island, anyway.
So what have I got to lose by talking to Craig? she thought.
The answers wouldn’t change the heartbreaking facts: Nicole had died, and her family had been shattered. But the questions still niggled at Caitlin in a way that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.