He asked her to read them again. So she did.
Then she told him about the creepy phone call and about the night that he’d come home, how she was at the boat, hoping to see him, but hadn’t expected that he’d be in an ambulance, so when he texted her at 3:00 a.m., she’d rushed to the rehab center, but they wouldn’t let her in. Then came the part about the vehicle that followed her up State Road, after which she told him about the second, breathing call the night he went into the ICU.
Finally, she told him about the day he’d been discharged, when she received the picture of her mother from the yearbook. She couldn’t bring herself to say that Evelyn might be involved.
“Jesus,” Rex said when she was done.
“The worst part was I thought someone had come into the cottage, found her yearbook, and cut her picture out. Thankfully, that didn’t happen.” She would have cried again, but talking to him helped her start to feel better.
“What did Ken say about that one?”
“He doesn’t know. It arrived after I’d given him the other notes; you were getting situated at Kevin and Taylor’s, and my mind was in a million directions.”
“Oh, Maddie,” he said softly.
They didn’t speak again for half a minute, maybe more.
Then he asked, “What year did your mother graduate?”
“1972.” She paused. “Why?”
“I’m wondering if someone in her class has a grudge. Maybe a guy she’d dated and was pissed when your dad came along.”
Maddie was stumped. “I have no idea.” But she knew it could be possible. “Should I tell Chief Lawrence?”
“Hold off on that. I’d like to see the yearbook first and hunt for a clue or two myself.”
“I don’t know when I can get it to you, what with the opening …”
“No need. There must be one stashed around here somewhere. My father was on the school committee for years; I’msure there’s a bunch of yearbooks stashed somewhere in this house. At least it’s a place to start. Maybe I’ll find a prom picture of her with our note-writing guy.”
She smiled. “Mr. Winsted, I learn something new about you every day.”
“I know. I lead a fascinating life, don’t I?”
“More than mine!”
“Next thing I’ll tell you is that my father was on the school committee because my mother gave music lessons to the kids at school. Did you know that before she married Dad, she played flute at the Metropolitan Opera in New York City? No one ever figured out how he lured her to the Vineyard, though everyone agrees she was not happy here.”
She frowned. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Believe it or not, sometimes I’m capable of it.”
“And sometimes I think I’m going to have my hands full if our baby takes after you.”
“You absolutely will. Good thing I’ll be looking out for both of you.”
“Yup,” she replied. “Good thing.”
Chapter 33
With less than a day until the opening, Maddie planned a quiet afternoon. Instead of futzing around the shop, tweaking this and that, or driving to Chappy to see Rex again, she decided to rest and store up her energy for the days to come: the grand opening of the bookshop and the whirlwind trip back and forth to Amherst. Sometimes, it was still difficult to believe that the unsettling days of winter were behind her and that only good things lay ahead.
Sitting at a tea table on the back deck of the bookshop, she knew the island was ready. The air felt electrified. Pulsating. Ready for fun. The sun was warmer; the sky, clearer; the water, bluer. The season was poised to begin, waiting only for the starting gate to open.
With a soft smile, Maddie closed her eyes and listened to the gentle splashes as small motor boats were launched, one after another, into the harbor. All week, she’d heard the music of summer preparation and its rituals of energy. Even as she now heard footsteps clomping on the narrow walkway that joined the backs of the shops and boathouses, she wasn’t disturbed by it. Until she heard a man’s voice.
“Afternoon, Miss Clarke.” The tone was gruff, grating, and oddly familiar.
