Chapter 2
CARRIE
The woman on the doorstep looked as though she’d been dragged across half the state by the storm and only just found her footing again.
Her dark hair, streaked with silver at the temples, clung damply to her face.
A tailored jacket, too crisp for the island, was creased at the shoulders, and a small leather bag hung at her side as if she hadn’t put it down for days.
Her eyes, sharp and restless, scanned over Carrie with the sort of precision that made her skin prickle.
Carrie’s first thought was that the woman looked familiar.
Not in the way a friend or neighbor did, but in a vague, unsettling way—as if she carried the shadow of someone Carrie had once seen in an old photograph.
Yet there was nothing warm in the recognition.
Everything about the woman whispered calculation.
“I was hoping to find Lori Carlton,” the woman said, voice steady, not a trace of island softness in it. “Lori won’t be back soon?”
Carrie kept her hand on the edge of the door. “No. She’s away for the summer.”
The woman’s gaze slid past her shoulder into the hallway, though Carrie’s body blocked most of the view. “And Matt Parker? Is he nearby?” Cheryl’s eyes met Carrie's once again, and a plastic smile was plastered on her lips.
A jolt of alarm went through Carrie. She pulled the door a fraction closer to her leg, hiding more of the interior. “I couldn’t say,” she answered carefully. “It’s been difficult keeping track with the storm. People have been scattered, some caught in Key West.”
The woman studied her, lips twitching as if she didn’t quite believe her.
“If you do see him, will you tell him Cheryl Winters would like to have a word with him about the property he leases from my moth…” She gave a sugary sweet smile again as she corrected herself, as if she wanted to rub it in. “Sorry, from me.”
Carrie’s mind turned. I wonder if this woman really is Delia’s daughter or just another imposter looking for the information Trevor had on Dick Stanstead.
Carrie made a mental note to try to find out what Cheryl Winters looked like.
Although the woman standing in front of her did look familiar to Carrie but she just couldn’t place why.
“I’ll pass that along,” Carrie said, her tone polite but flat.
Cheryl Winters—if that was who she was—slipped a folded piece of paper from her bag and held it out. Carrie accepted it, careful that their fingers didn’t touch. She glanced at it. It was a phone number, scrawled in neat block print.
“I’m staying at a hotel in Key West,” Cheryl added.
“Please do have him call me as soon as he can. And if you can get hold of Lori Carlton, I’d also like to speak with her as soon as possible.
” Cheryl shifted as though to leave, then paused, eyes narrowing.
“By any chance, do you know Ian Marshall?”
Carrie felt her shoulders tighten. She forced a vague smile. “We’ve met.”
“Do you know where he is?” Cheryl pressed.
Carrie shook her head. “Sorry. Last night’s storm threw everything into chaos. Quite a few residents ended up stranded in Key West. I was lucky enough to get the last ferry back to Sunset Keys. If Ian isn’t at home, he must be in Key West.”
It was a clean lie, offered with a sympathetic tilt of her head. She wanted the woman gone before Matt, Alisha, or the children returned and stumbled into this doorstep interrogation.
Cheryl lingered a beat longer, as if weighing whether to push further, then gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Very well. Thank you for your time.”
Carrie watched her step through the gate and down the road, heels clicking against the damp pavement until the mist swallowed her. Only when Cheryl disappeared around the bend did Carrie exhale and shut the door.
Her hand lingered on the latch. The air inside felt heavy, as though the exchange had left residue behind.
She glanced at her wristwatch—half an hour since Matt and Alisha had taken the kids and the dogs to help with the beach cleanup.
Too soon for them to return, but she prayed they wouldn’t cross paths with Cheryl.
Carrie moved to the kitchen, filled the kettle, and reached for the tea caddy, trying to steady her racing thoughts with the promise of something ordinary.
Steam was just beginning to rise when the shrill ring of her phone startled her.
She grabbed it from the counter and saw the name glowing on the screen.
Tessa.
Carrie braced herself, heart pounding. If her daughter asked for Maggie and learned she wasn’t in the house, the fallout would be immediate.
She took a deep breath and swiped to answer. “Hello, sweetheart.”
“Mom!” Tessa’s voice poured through the line, tight at first but not sharp, more like a dam breaking. “I’m sorry I was so awful to you before. I want to say this: what happened with Maggie wasn’t your fault. Or Alisha’s.”
Carrie blinked, stunned. She had been braced for blame, for the usual barrage of rapid-fire demands. “What’s changed your mind?” she asked carefully.
There was the faintest smile in her daughter’s tone.
“Maggie called me on a video call and introduced me to Alisha and Cody. Alisha told me everything. And I have to say, you’re all doing a remarkable job there.
I even caught a glimpse of them helping clean up the cove.
Cody, Maggie, and the dogs all looked so happy, like they were having a whale of a time despite everything they’d been through.
Alisha was right. This is the best thing for them, and I’m so grateful that she’s helping them through the trauma.
In fact, this is the happiest I’ve seen Maggie in a while. ”
Relief softened Carrie’s shoulders. She could almost picture the scene: Maggie’s curls bouncing as she bent to lift debris, Cody’s eager grin, the dogs bounding along.
Tessa’s voice shifted, lighter now. “And I met Alisha’s father. The hunky Matt Parker.” A teasing lilt crept in. “Mom, are you going to tell me about your new friend?”
Heat rushed into Carrie’s cheeks. She was glad no one was there to see. “Matt is… a good man,” she managed. “We’re friends.”
“Friends,” Tessa repeated knowingly. “I’m glad you have someone there for you this summer. Especially someone Dad can’t interfere in the relationship with for once.”
The words landed with a sting Carrie hadn’t expected. She swallowed. Before she could form a reply, Tessa’s tone shifted again, brisk and businesslike. “Alisha also sent over all of Matt’s documents about the house sale. I’ve gone through them. This is serious, Mom.”
Carrie’s eyebrows rose. “You two managed that in less than half an hour?”
“Alisha and I clicked right away because we’re both type A personalities,” Tessa quipped, echoing her brother’s old complaint. “We do things at super speed. And this? It’s fraud. No use sugar-coating it.”
Carrie leaned against the counter, the kettle whistling behind her forgotten, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Does Lori know anything about this?”
“Not unless you told her,” Alisha answered. “Do you want me to tell her?”
“Can we wait until you’ve had a chance to figure it out?” Carrie asked. “It’s the first holiday Lori has taken since Trevor passed away and I don’t want to worry her until we have something to tell her.”
“Agreed,” Tessa said.
“Are you still coming to the Keys?” Carrie asked her daughter.
“Not yet,” Tessa said firmly. “It’s better if I work from Boston, at least for now. I can dig without drawing attention. Whoever orchestrated this property mess doesn’t need to know we’re closing in on them. When I have everything lined up, I’ll come down. Not before.”
Carrie sighed. A part of her wanted her daughter here, even if she came with sharp questions and judgment. But she understood. “That’s wise,” she admitted.
She hesitated, then added, “There’s something else. Cheryl Winters showed up here today.”
There was a beat of silence. Then Tessa’s voice, edged with suspicion: “That’s peculiar timing. Too peculiar. Did you tell her anything?”
“Nothing,” Carrie assured her. “She asked about Lori, about Matt, about Ian Marshall. I told her nothing useful. She left her number and said she’s staying in Key West.”
“Send me that number,” Tessa said immediately.
“I will.”
Carrie hesitated again. “Did you know Lori asked Trent to look into Trevor? She thought Trevor was cheating on her months before he died. It wasn’t a PI, like she claimed. It was Trent.”
“No,” Tessa said flatly. “That’s news to me.”
Carrie pressed on. “And did you know Trent was working with Trevor too? Trevor had a disk, incriminating information about his partner, Dick Stanstead. Trent was involved.”
Tessa was quiet for a long moment. “Alisha told me,” she said finally. “She also told me about Trent disappearing with Ian. And that she doesn’t think he’s FBI.”
Carrie’s mouth fell open. “How did you two get through so much in such a short time?”
“We’re efficient, Mom,” Tessa said with a humorless laugh. Then her tone hardened. “Don’t worry. I’m looking into my little brother, too.”
Carrie shook her head, a flicker of wryness cutting through her shock. “You do know you’re only twenty minutes older than him?”
“I’m still older,” Tessa replied, just as she had since childhood. “And right now, that makes me the responsible one.”
Carrie smiled faintly despite herself. “Out of the two of you, you’ve always been that. Your brother gets himself into some trouble.”
“I have to move fast,” Tessa went on, ignoring Carrie’s last comment. “Especially if that really was Cheryl Winters at your door. Mom, I’m hoping you’ll be your usual self and not trust her. Don’t trust anyone until I’ve verified it.”