her face, as Cate stepped out of her car. Cate had called that morning and asked to meet. Her happy expression squeezed Cate’s heart, creating a sting of guilt. She’d only talked with Marsha once since she’d been home.
Jane had organized a few women to check on Marsha once a week. They made certain there was sufficient food in the refrigerator and that her medications were up to date, and gave her some social time.
Marsha ran to Cate and hugged her. “I’m so glad to see you!” Marsha stepped back and studied Cate from head to toe, her own eyes sharp and clear. She’s alert today. “Come in, come in. I have a fresh pot of coffee.”
Inside she seated Cate at a large table in her kitchen. A cup of coffee and a plate of fresh-baked banana bread appeared, filling the kitchen with heavenly smells. Two-thirds of the table was Marsha’s work space. All sizes and colors of beads, wire, and gems sparkled and gleamed among her tools. A few finished pieces caught Cate’s eye. Marsha’s work was exquisite and exactly Cate’s taste. She complimented her hostess, who beamed.
“I was so happy to hear from you. What can I help you with?”
The clarity in Marsha’s eyes encouraged Cate. “Tessa and I are looking into Samantha’s case like you suggested.”
Tears welled. “Oh, thank you so much. I know you girls will get to the bottom of it. Those investigators were bumbling fools. They spent all their time harassing Michael instead of searching for Samantha.” She dabbed her nose with a napkin.
The affection from Marsha felt genuine, but Cate couldn’t help but compare it with how Marsha had treated her as a teen. Samantha’s mother had ignored Cate and looked down her nose at Jane and her grandchildren. Cate hadn’t understood until Jane had explained that Cate was a descendant of Elias Bishop’s illicit affair with his lover, Ruby, so Marsha viewed her as not worth her time.
Cate had hesitantly asked Samantha about her mother’s views. Her friend had rolled her eyes and called her mother ridiculous. “Why does it matter where the blood in your veins came from?” Sam had asked. “How does that make one person more important than another?”
Judging by her smile for Cate, Marsha thought differently now.
“I refuse to believe that Elias’s line might have ended with Michael’s suicide.” Marsha sighed.
Or maybe she doesn’t think differently.
Cate and Logan were also Elias’s descendants. Not that Cate gave a shit, but Marsha’s words were like nails on a chalkboard.
“Marsha,” Cate began slowly, “if you think Sam is still alive, why haven’t we heard from her?”
“That’s a very good question.” Her wide blue eyes were guileless, and she looked expectantly at Cate, waiting for an answer.
Cate didn’t have one. “The night—”
“I know, I know,” Marsha said. “She was sneaking out to meet you girls.”
Wrong. “Marsha, she wasn’t. We told her we wouldn’t go—she was meeting someone else. Didn’t the police tell you that?”
Marsha thought hard. “I can’t remember. Maybe they did. The investigators talked to me dozens of times. It’s all a blur.”
“She snuck out to meet a guy,” Cate told her. “I think he was older.”
Marsha leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, “Samantha thought I didn’t know she snuck out at night, but I did. What kid didn’t at that age?”
She was fourteen.
“You knew and let her do it?”
She shrugged. “What trouble could she get into on the island? And I assumed you and Tessa were usually with her.” She frowned, an odd light entering her eyes. “I didn’t think you were the best influence on her, but I felt better knowing she had friends with her.”
Sam didn’t have friends that night.
“Did your husband know Sam would leave at night?”
“Oh, no. He would have grounded her. I didn’t want her curtailed like that for having a little fun. Like I said. All kids did it.”
Dozens of “What if?” statements bombarded Cate. What if Sam’s father had known and put a stop to it? What if Cate and Tessa had gone with her? What if Marsha had exercised some parental discipline?
“She’ll come home when she’s ready,” Marsha said confidently as she poured more coffee in Cate’s cup. “Especially when you convince her.”
Oh, Marsha.
Cate was driving to interview Arlie Babcock when her phone rang. She saw Tessa’s number and answered.
“Did you talk to Marsha?” asked Tessa.
“I did. I thought she was mentally in a good spot, but she said a few things that made me wonder.” She updated Tessa on Marsha’s belief that