“Not sure how tight the Vineyard cops—or even the state police here—are with the guys in Boston.”

“With all the construction you did up there, you never ran into a situation like this?”

“Bones? Nope. We found a turtle once. A rare little thing. Everything had to stop until they could determine that it wasn’t a nesting ground.”

“Was it?”

“Nope. We lucked out. They figured that Mr. Turtle’s GPS had taken him in the wrong direction. But I don’t remember how long it took them to reach that conclusion. It was a while back.” He sighed and took another sip of coffee. “Earl and I just have to keep working. Our crew won’t be able to wait. They’ll have to go to work for someone else so they can get a paycheck, but we can’t risk having violations slapped on us—or the bad press that’s sure to follow—if we blatantly ignore the stop order.”

Annie stood and went to the only window that didn’t look out to the harbor but up to the main house instead. The new cedar shingles that covered the exterior were tan now, but they would turn an iconic silver-gray in less than a year, whether or not the Inn was ever allowed to open. It was hard to believe that all the planning, all the time—all the money spent—was now in jeopardy, thanks to something that had washed ashore the way so many islanders had. The year-round tenants and the three winter renters would have to return to fruitlessly searching, searching, begging for a place to live, as Annie had tried to do last summer. Not to mention that Kevin and Earl’s investment might never be recouped. The value of the property would be moot if it was labeled ancient Native American ground. On the other hand, maybe the Chappaquiddick Wampanoags would have somewhere to call home again.

“I feel so torn,” she said. “If it ends up that the land belongs to a Chappy Wampanoag, I’ll be happy for them. I respect their culture—and them—and I’d be glad that it would be theirs again. But I’d be lying if I said I’d be happy for us.”

“I don’t know much about the history, but I get what you’re saying. Meghan would have said ‘we can’t win for losing.’”

It took a few seconds for Annie to remember that Meghan was Kevin’s wife. Annie turned back to him; he sat, wide-eyed and motionless, as if he, too, were surprised that he’d mentioned her name.

“As long as we’re talking about sad situations,” Annie said, “any word on Meghan?”