She ignored his smugness. “Yes. We’re in the process of restoring a beautiful old waterfront property. But we’ve run into a small snag. A bone—actually, part of a human skull—was found on the beach. It was tangled in seaweed and stuck between some rocks right at the tide line. Apparently it had been there a long time.”

That time, the silence only lasted two or three brief seconds. “Go on.”

She was careful not to interpret his prompt response as one of interest. Or as a way of saying he’d help. “You probably know that protocol requires that the state police hand it over to the coroner, which they did,” she said. “The coroner determined it was human, not animal. Then it went to the medical examiner and the archeologist in Boston who will tell us whether or not it’s Native American. If I have the details straight.”

“Close enough,” Larry said, then paused again. In the old days, he might have been puffing on a pipe in contemplation. “The forensic anthropologist must determine the date range. The North American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990 assumes that any remains dating before 1492 are Native American. And, of course, there’s DNA, which they might or might not be able to extract.”

That part was new to her.

“If Native American affiliation can be determined,” he went on, “the government must turn the remains over to the local tribe.” He was on a roll now. “If they were found on land and surfaced due to erosion, they originally might have been buried. Which means, if they are indigenous, you might be talking sacred ground.”

Annie swallowed. Though she’d already been told that, part of her hadn’t wanted to believe it. “I think it had spent more time in the water than on land.”

“Well, that’s not up to you. Did you have any other questions?”

Questions? She hadn’t expected he’d have had any of those answers. She’d only been trying to get them moved to the head of the archeologist’s line. “It’s about our restoration,” she said with trepidation, “of the . . . building. The Inn. We’ve had to stop construction.”

“That goes without saying. Until they have definitive answers.”

She chewed a thumbnail, something she only did in times of intense stress. “We’re trying to learn if there’s a typical timeline . . . To be honest, we’re scheduled to open on Memorial Day weekend, and now we’re . . .”

He laughed.

He laughed? A flame of anger flared her cheeks.

“And you called to ask me to pull some strings? Really, Annie?”