“Personality, you mean? God, no. Not at all. I was the careful one, and she wasn’t careful at all. As you can tell . . . from the situation, and from the e-mail. She was kind of impulsive and didn’t really know what she wanted. No, that’s not entirely true. She was impulsive, but she always knew what she wanted. It just changed all the time.”

“Like the way she wanted Bill Ackerson.”

“Yes.”

“Were you surprised that she came up here for the funeral?”

“Yes and no. I just found out, when I got the e-mail.”

“Did you know him?”

“No. I’d just heard about him. Not even that much, because Grace knew I disapproved. Then she called at the end of last week to tell me that he’d died.”

“You said your sister was impulsive. Any history of violence, any outbursts, any mental health diagnoses?”

Caitlin shook her head no.

“How intense do you think Grace’s relationship with Bill was?”

“She was in love with him,” Caitlin said.

The detective pushed the box of Kleenex closer to Caitlin. She took a tissue, realizing there were tears on her cheeks. “Can I keep you here just a little bit longer?” the detective continued.

“I guess.”

“I want to ask you some general questions about your family and Grace’s friends. Maybe this had nothing at all to do with Bill Ackerson.”

Caitlin didn’t get back to her room at the Sea Mist Motel until late that afternoon. She sat on top of the shiny bedcover and reread Grace’s last e-mail, then she listened to the three messages she’d gotten from her mother since she’d last checked her phone. She knew she needed to get back to her, to confirm what they’d already known, that the body was indeed Grace’s.

She braced herself and made the call.

“Caitlin?”

“It was her, Mom. It was Gracie.”

They both cried together on the phone, then once Caitlin had confirmed that her mother wasn’t alone—Patrick was there, like he always was, and her mother’s sister, Aunt Nan, was coming over later—Caitlin felt better about beginning the process of ending the phone call.

“Mom,” she asked. “Can you have Patrick call Dad? I don’t think I’m up to it.”

“Yes, of course. Patrick can do it. You’ve done enough, Caitlin. I should have been out there with you.”

“No, there’s no reason for you to be here. I’m fine. Well, I’m not fine, but you know . . .”

“Did the police say anything else? Do they know who did this?”