As soon as she upended the third barrel, she knew it was the right one: parchment paper and other remnants from the cookies that she’d made for dinner at Earl and Claire’s (she’d been polite and brought her rubbish home from the community center); the random notes Annie had scribbled during Georgia Nelson’s visit; the wrapper from Lucy’s date nut bread that Annie and Donna had enjoyed . . . when? Yes! It was the same night that Mark had showed up at the door. She quickly rifled through the rest and, finally, there it was: the small white business card. MARK LEWISTON. COMMERCIAL PROPERTY CONSULTANT.

She shoved it in her pocket, stuffed the trash back into the barrel, and pushed all three barrels into the shed. Then she marched back to the cottage, willing her stomach to stop tumbling, forcing her brain to focus on Donna’s mantra and stay positive.

Once inside the cottage, she took her phone out of her purse, then went back outside so her voice wouldn’t disturb her mother. Her hand wasn’t even trembling when she tapped in the number, but her throat closed up a little when she heard his voice.

“Mark Lewiston. How may I help you?”

Did she really want to do this? Did she really want to ask if he knew if Larry had told her the truth? Did she really want to pin her hopes—their hopes: hers, Kevin’s, Earl’s, and the rest—on a man who had once nearly destroyed her life?

“Hello?” his voice repeated.

Then Annie heard herself say, “Mark, it’s Annie.”

There was silence on the other end. Perhaps he’d hung up.

But she thought she heard him breathing.

“Annie? Are you going to yell at me? ’Cuz if you are, please get it over with. I deserve everything you have to say.”

She hadn’t expected him to sound as if he’d been the one who’d phoned her, as if he’d been practicing those words and hadn’t been caught off guard.

“I need help,” she said, not acknowledging his question. “Did Larry tell you why I’d been in touch?”

“About that skull?”

“Yes. He said it’s over a century old. I need to know if that’s true or if he’s screwing with me. I also need to know how much longer it will be before we know the rest—whether or not it’s Native American.”

Mark paused again. “First, I’m sure it’s true, Annie. Larry has no reason to lie to you. Second, I know as many people as he does. You could have called me. It’s in the archeologist’s office, right? I’m always running into issues about historic sites we’re trying to develop.”