“As if Lucy hasn’t done enough damage,” Taylor continued to prattle, “now she’s put together a website for him. Have you seen it? It doesn’t mention the skull or his father, but it puts Jonas ‘out there.’ On the damn internet. With his artwork, like he’s some kind of Picasso.” Taylor’s hand was trembling as she drank her coffee.

Annie had no idea where the relationship stood now between Kevin and Taylor, but if, after everything was over, they wound up being together, Annie supposed at least she should be able to feel that she’d tried to be Taylor’s friend. And though Lucy had only been trying to be nice to Jonas because he was lonely, it did appear that she’d been a catalyst. Annie tried to summon some mental energy. “What would you like me to do?” she asked before she had time to change her mind.

“Call my son. Go find him, if you can. Tell him the woman is trying to scam him. He wouldn’t tell me her name, but my gut tells me I know her. And I think she saw that video online and figured she could make some fast cash. Jonas is such an innocent.”

“Exactly what did she tell him?” Once Annie heard the details, she might get more involved than she would have wanted, but she could not walk away. Not with John’s daughter in the mix. Lucy, Lucy, she whispered to herself.

“The woman told him that even if the skull isn’t Derek’s—that was his father’s name—she had information on who his birth father really is. She said it was a guy who lived on the Vineyard. And that I told her so.”

Annie swallowed hard. “Did you?”

Taylor gripped her mug so hard her knuckles started to turn white. “No! For one thing, it isn’t true! Derek is his father, not ‘a guy’ from the Vineyard! She claims she lived in the same building where the Flanagans sequestered me until Jonas was born. If it’s who I think it is, she was nosy and always on the take. She slept with every guy she met—always married ones—then bribed them to keep her mouth shut.”

“But if she made up a lot of details, I don’t know how I can convince Jonas. . . .”

By then, Taylor’s top teeth had sunk into her lower lip.

“. . . but I’ll try,” Annie added, wishing someone was kicking her under the table. Where the heck was Murphy when she needed her? “I’ll give him a call. But I can’t go and try to find him. I’m going to be a little tied up with my mother.” She reasoned with herself that it would only be one phone call. Then she could get back to worrying about Donna’s situation. And the Inn, though the Inn might not matter anymore.