“Earl!” she called as she circled into the two-story foyer. “Kevin!” Neither responded. She paused and listened. But there were no sounds. Opposite the staircase, she peeked into the cozy reading room that abutted a large powder room, then walked past a storage closet to the media room. That side of the house was finished; each room sat ready, its walls and floors and fabulous furnishings emitting fine scents of newness. But Earl and Kevin weren’t there, either.

She returned to the foyer and quickly climbed the stairs, wondering if they’d been told they couldn’t work there, either, that no one was allowed on the grounds until the mystery was solved. Then Annie had two thoughts: Why the heck had she ever gone searching for decorative items on the beach? . . . And if no one was allowed on the grounds, did that mean her, too? If so, where would she go—what would she do until this was resolved? The cottage was her home now, wasn’t it?

At the top of the stairs, she made a quick right into the front bedroom that Kevin had said she could use.

But though Earl had said he’d be painting, the work wasn’t yet done. Maybe she and Kevin should book a hotel room for Donna after all. Or one for Annie, if Donna preferred the cottage. It was only April, so hotel rooms would be available—though, like restaurants, few places were open year-round. And even at off-season prices, the costs would add up quickly.

More expenses would only heighten their problems. If Annie could write faster, the income from her next book would come in sooner, but, she knew, not soon enough. Besides, if she spent every day hard at work at the computer, the best she could expect would be to finish the manuscript in six months, maybe seven.

“Earl! Kevin!”

But there were no sounds, not of paint being swished across a wall . . . or of footsteps . . . or of anything.

She needed to call Kevin. But when she reached into her pocket, she realized she’d left her phone at home.

Trying not to give in to utter frustration, she spun around and retraced her tracks down the stairs, through the great room, the kitchen, then into the mudroom by the back door. Which was where she bumped smack into Kevin.

“There you are,” they said simultaneously.

“You’re looking for me?” he asked without cracking a grin, which was out of character for him.

“Yes. But go ahead. You first.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, which was not a good sign. Annie’s stomach tightened. Was it bad news from the ME’s office or the state police?

“It’s about John’s daughter.”

Her whole body tensed. She sucked in a short breath and grabbed a sleeve of his denim shirt. “Lucy? What?”

“She’s fine. Or she will be until her grandfather gets ahold of her.”