Even so, Emily’s heart was thudding as he approached the table.

“Hi.” His smile was warm and friendly. “You guys live on the island?”

Anna smiled back. “During the summer. You?”

“Sadly, mine is a short visit. I wondered if you’d seen this little girl around.” He handed a photo of Lizzy to Anna, who studied it carefully, shook her head and then passed it across the table to another girl.

Their eyes locked, their fingers brushed, and the photo fell into a sticky pool of chocolate milk.

Anna tutted. “Rita, you are so clumsy.” She made a fuss of wiping it and tore the edge. “Oh, no! Now I’m the clumsy one.”

The man gritted his teeth as he took it back. “I thought you might have seen her? She’s traveling with her mother, a woman called Emily.”

“Your wife and child?”

“My sister and her little girl. There are marital problems. I promised I’d help her.”

“Your niece?” Anna took another look at the photo. “She doesn’t look anything like you. But, no, I don’t remember seeing her.”

“The address is Castaway Cottage, but it’s not listed anywhere, and no one I ask seems to know where it is.”

“Castaway Cottage?” Anna looked vague. “Never heard of it, and this is my third summer on the island. You could try asking Pete—he drives the island cab.”

“I did. He said there is no Castaway Cottage.” The man looked frustrated. “But I know that’s the address.”

“Not on this island. Let me see that photo.” Ryan took it from the man. “She looks like Summer. Her mother owns Summer Scoop just along Main Street. Or maybe not. It’s not a great picture.”

“If you wanted to rent somewhere out of the way on this island where no one would look for you, where would you stay?”

Ryan didn’t hesitate. “White Pine House. But there’s no way she’d stay there.”

“Why?”

“Because getting there is a nightmare. It’s in the middle of the island at the top of a trail that is impassable in bad weather. I wouldn’t even try it if I were you.”

“Can you give me directions?”

Ryan shrugged. “They’re your tires. Do you have a map? I can show you.” He was polite and friendly as he took the map of the island from the man’s hand. “You want to take a right at the forest trail. It’s a pretty rough road, but it’s the only way up to Heron Pond. Be careful as you take Pond Bridge. There was some structural damage over the winter, and repairs haven’t been finished yet. You might want to park and walk.”

The guy stepped away with a nod of thanks.

“What a douche,” Anna muttered as he walked away. “Please tell me he’s going to blow out his tires on the way to the pond.”