“Teenagers,” Annie muttered. She was, however, delighted that the girl had come with her, even though the primary incentive had been the promise of a side trip to a graveyard for Lucy’s genealogy project. Despite the fact that Annie was a full-time bestselling mystery author, part-time soap maker, and soon-to-be innkeeper, she loved spending time with Lucy, the fourteen-year-old daughter of John Lyons—the kind, generous, and massively good-looking Edgartown police sergeant whom Annie had been dating for over a year.

“Annie!” Winnie Lathrop cried out in a jolly voice. “Did you hear? The pinkletinks are back!” Winnie was a Wampanoag woman who lived up island in Aquinnah and had taught Annie how to forage for herbs and wildflowers then craft them into boutique soaps to sell at the festivals.

Plunking down her cotton tote bag, Annie stepped into her friend’s warm hug. “Earl says they’re late this year because it was too damn cold.”

Winnie laughed. “Earl Lyons knows everything about this island. I swear he welcomed Thomas Mayhew when he landed on the beach.” Earl maintained that Mayhew had brought “the first boatload of tourists” in 1642, thereby creating the Vineyard’s first English settlement. A much-beloved property caretaker on Chappaquiddick, Earl also was the father of the massively good-looking police sergeant, and, ergo, Lucy’s grandfather. “Speaking of that old crow . . .” Winnie added, “how’s the Inn? Will you open on time?”

The Inn was a new venture for Earl and Kevin, Annie’s half-brother. Earl had said they should call it The Vineyard Inn because the name was easy to remember, and would make a “perfect hashtag for Instagram.” He’d winked when he said the last part, because Annie was well aware that the seventy-five-year-old curmudgeon would not know Instagram from instant coffee. Kevin was forty-three, nine years younger than Annie. He’d come last summer for a visit and wound up staying, working alongside Earl. The venture—(or, “adventure,” as Kevin called it)—had been their harebrained idea, conceived “out of necessity” (Earl again), because at the time, Annie had little money and nowhere to live. She’d accused the men of being old-fashioned and wanting to rescue a damsel in distress. They’d all had a good laugh over that, because Annie was quite capable of taking care of herself. Though she wasn’t always sure of that, their support helped her stay positive.

“I’m trying to be optimistic,” she said to Winnie now. “Earl and Kevin insist construction is ‘coming along,’ but it’s pretty hectic. Our first guests arrive Memorial Day weekend, so . . .” She shrugged. She didn’t add that they were over budget, out of cash, and short on labor, or that suppliers were slow to deliver to Chappaquiddick, the Vineyard’s easternmost arm that was a bit out of the way.

“And the first festival is that weekend,” Winnie said.