“I need to reduce all the clutter, but I’m not good at parting with anything.” Agnes reached for another box. “This is something else I can’t bring myself to clear out.”

“What is it?”

“All of Ryan’s stories. Of course, a lot of it is online, but I’m not good with the internet, so he used to send me the paper versions.” She opened the box, and Emily saw neatly sorted stacks of newspaper clippings.

“There were stories about him in the press?”

“He wasn’t the subject of the story, he wrote the story. He didn’t tell you that? He’s so modest. He won a Pulitzer Prize, you know, for news reporting.”

No, she didn’t know. Emily’s mouth dried. “Are you saying he’s a journalist?”

“Was.” Agnes leafed through the clippings, pride on her face. “The best. He had a way of getting to the emotion of a story. He’s a good listener. People tell him things. Things they would never tell other people.”

I’m not afraid of emotions.

Emily stood up, feeling as if she were sleepwalking. She’d told him things. Things she’d never told other people. She’d done things with him she hadn’t done with anyone else. “Would you look after Lizzy for a while? There’s something I need to do.”

“Of course.” Agnes glanced up from her news clippings. “She’s perfectly safe here with me.”

It took Emily less than five minutes to walk the short distance to the Ocean Club.

She strode through the door and into the crowded Bar and Grill where Kirsti was circulating.

“Hi, Emily.” Kirsti gave her a friendly smile. “No Lizzy today?”

“She’s with Agnes.” Her voice sounded robotic. “I need to see Ryan.”

“Of course you do.” Kirsti behaved as if Emily’s unplanned visit was the most natural thing in the world. “He’s in his office. He’s had a hell of a morning, so I know he’s going to be pleased to see you.”

No, Emily thought grimly as she walked to the back of the Ocean Club. He most definitely wouldn’t be.

Ryan’s office faced the water, and he was on the phone with his feet on the desk, when she walked in.

“He was supposed to fix the pump. I told him we’d—” He broke off as he saw Emily. “I’ll call you back, Pete. Go check it out. Don’t delegate this one. If necessary I’ll dig out the tools and do it myself.” He hung up the phone and smiled.

That assured smile was the final straw. “I need to talk to you.”

“Just when I thought a bad day wasn’t going to turn good, you walk in.” He lifted his eyebrows as she slammed the door shut. “Is this about sex in public places? Because—”