Was Georgia a hospice nurse and nothing more? Her card only showed her name and phone number and those damn pink roses. It did not show a title that included the word “Hospice,” but neither did it say “Home Companion.” Simply Georgia Nelson. Nondescript.

A shudder rippled through Annie. She didn’t know what to expect. When her mother Ellen had been ill, the nurses had taken care of her because she’d been in a hospital. She hadn’t been in a tiny cottage on Chappaquiddick. And Annie’s father had merely died of a massive heart attack—swift, clean, done.

She dropped her chin, her eyes now on the floor, her fingers clasped across the crown of her head. She didn’t know how long she’d been in that position when the door to the Flanagans’ cottage creaked open. She was too deep in thought to be afraid.

“Don’t you know you don’t live here anymore?” John filled the doorway, blocking the sunlight. Annie didn’t have to ask how he knew where she would be; Earl, good old Earl, no doubt had told him.

“Sometimes it slips my mind. Especially because it’s so peaceful here. And it’s where I actually can write.”

“Am I interrupting?”

She pulled herself up and went to him. She wrapped her arms around him and tipped her head onto his shoulder. “Never.”

He kissed the top of her head, then rubbed her shoulders. “We found him,” he said.

Annie jumped back. Stung.

John held her arms, steadying her. “He’d checked into the Harbor View. Used his real name. That was a surprise. He was with his friend Hendricks.”

She shook off John’s hands and began to pace. She hated that her heart was thumping again. “Did you make him leave the island? Please tell me you did.”

“I can’t do that, Annie. He didn’t do anything but show up at your place.”

There was no need to go into the rest. Years earlier, Annie’s attorney had explained that because Mark had made sure her name was on all of their accounts, she’d been liable for the debt when he’d disappeared. It was not a crime. They had, after all, been husband and wife. Community property was community property, whether they were divorcing or the other party died. Or disappeared.

She slumped down in the chair again, wishing her rocker were still there.

“So he’s still here.”

“He’s at the station. I wanted to hold him there until you knew where he was.”

“Did you suggest that he stay away from me? Or isn’t that protocol, either?”