“Jo, what happened?” I cut in.
“We saw him...or her...go in,” she said slowly. “And Clare went out to check.”
I shot to my feet. “She just went out there? To confront someone? Why didn’t she call 911? Or Arthur? Or anyone?”
Jo huffed. “You know your mother, hard as a walnut shell. She’d wait for Hades to freeze over before asking for help. Five snowstorms last year, and she shoveled the entire sidewalk and driveway herself. Every single time. And the gutters! Did you know they were clogged? She hauled out a ladder and climbed up there like she was twenty. Arthur was beside himself when he saw her. And Bernie? The handyman? That man was fuming. Called her cheap and swore she was trying to starve him out of house and home.”
“Jo, focus,” I said, pressing my fingers to my temples. “Please. Tell me what happened.”
Jo nodded and continued.
“Clare went into the barn,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “And I never saw her again. But a few minutes later, I did see that dark, hooded figure slip out and run down the street.”
Chapter Five
Skye
* * *
The pizza arrived just as I was hurrying downstairs in search of Arthur. A teenager on an electric bike handed over the box, barely looking up from his phone. I took it without a word and went into the kitchen.
My mind was racing, and my heart was breaking all over again. How could this have happened?
I needed to talk to Arthur, but how much of what Jo told me could I actually say in front of Ocean? My daughter had no idea about our ghost. Our visits here were never long enough for her to pick up even a hint of that history. And there was no way—absolutely no way—I was opening that door now.
I could feel the conflicting fight or flight impulses racing through me, but fight was winning. Clare hadn’t simply died. She could have been murdered. She wouldn’t have gone out to the carriage house unless she’d seen someone going in.
But no one was looking for the intruder. And that made the hackles on my neck stand up.
“Good. Food.” Ocean grabbed the box from my hands and carried it to the kitchen table.
She’d already set the table—plates, napkins, and glasses of water arranged with care. One thing about my girl. She was an organizer, through and through.
“Ocean, could you grab the luggage from the car and take it upstairs?”
“Seriously? Now? Can we eat first?”
The smell of the pizza was already turning my stomach. If I took a bite, I was sure I’d be sick. “Please. I didn’t lock the car. My laptop’s out there.”
“You always said nobody locks anything in this town.”
“Ocean,” I said gently but firmly, “just do it.”
She let out a sigh. “Okay, okay.”
“I’ll help her,” Arthur said, already getting up.
I grabbed Arthur’s arm. “I need to show you something.”
Ocean paused in the kitchen doorway. “Mom, can I have your old bedroom?”
“Of course. You can have any room you want.”
Arthur gave me a curious look after Ocean disappeared down the hall. “What’s going on?”
“I just talked to Jo.”
He nodded, unsurprised. “Figured she’d show up the second you got here.”
