Annie released her grip. “What happened?”

“That sweet girl who’s become your sidekick took a picture of the skull.”

“I know. She said she was afraid something would come along and take the thing before her father got there.”

“Well, she posted the picture on the internet this morning. The damn thing went viral. Over twelve thousand viewers already. Probably more, because I haven’t checked in the last five minutes.”

Annie was stunned.

“That’s not the worst,” he added. “The headline reads: ‘Skull found on Chappaquiddick, Martha’s Vineyard. And it’s def not from a shark.’ ”

“Dear God,” she finally managed to say. “Does John know?”

Kevin shrugged. “He worked last night, according to Earl. He’s probably sleeping. Earl’s going to tell him after he picks Lucy up at school.”

Annie rubbed her arms. She moved back into the kitchen; Kevin followed.

“I thought she was smarter than that,” Annie said. “If I ever thought she’d . . .”

“What? You would have taken away her phone? It’s a new world, Annie. Oh, and there’s more. She hashtagged Martha’s Vineyard. Chappaquiddick.” He paused. “And The Vineyard Inn.”

Annie went back to the windows over the sink. The beautiful view that moments earlier had looked so serene now seemed dulled, its magic tainted. “Anything else?”

“She added a picture of Jonas standing in front of the yellow tape. I can’t imagine why.”

Of course, Annie could. It was clear that Lucy had been trying to impress the guy. “Oh, God, Kevin. Someone needs to make her take those pictures down. And fast.”

“It’s the first thing Earl’s going to tell her when she gets into his truck. But I’m afraid it isn’t going to help much. Once something’s gone viral . . . well . . . From what we can figure, it’s already hit the news feeds. So it’s out there. Everywhere.”

“Who told you about it?”

“A friend of Earl’s called him from the chamber of commerce. They saw it online; they check all the Martha’s Vineyard tags. We were here, working on the upstairs room. I was going to tell you first, but when I walked down to the cottage I saw you through the window. You were sitting at your desk, deep in concentration, and I knew this would be a major distraction.”

Deep in concentration? Hardly. She’d only been reminiscing until Murphy had jarred her out of it. “We’d better go to John’s. This will take a few clear heads to sort out. I’ll just run down to my place and get my purse . . .”

“Sorry,” he said as she brushed past him. “But you’ll have to go alone. Taylor wants me to talk to Jonas. About being ‘careful’ around Lucy.”