“I’m meeting him by the dock. He’s got a delivery he has to wait on. I don’t want to cause any trouble.” Her eyes came up and for a second, Lila thought she might say something about what had really happened. “How much do I owe?”

Her gut had tightened up and she had to force a smile on her face. “Mabel can get you a bill. I’ll go and get your sling.”

She stepped away and tried not to think about how her hands were shaking.

Maybe it wasn’t the same. Maybe it had happened exactly the way Carrie said it had, but then there was the problem of those wispy lines on the X-ray. There were medical explanations for multiple fractures. She could have a disorder. She could simply be clumsy.

But Lila’s gut was saying something very different.

It took every bit of her willpower to not push Carrie. There would be a next time and Lila didn’t want to be the reason the young woman didn’t seek help. She got her in the sling and gave her information on home therapies and waved as she left.

“That girl,” Mabel said with a shake of her head. “She’s a little mouse. Always has been. How she manages out there I have no idea. I thought she would leave for New Orleans or Houston like most of her friends. She was a smart one, always with a book in her hand. We were all shocked when she up and married Bobby Petrie. His family has lived on that island for a hundred years.”

“Is he a nice man?”

Mabel shrugged. “I suppose. They keep to themselves out there. He and his brother are shrimpers, but Donny’s the one who handles the business end.”

“She sees the doc a lot?” It would be easy to keep up the abuse if she was isolated.

“Not a ton. She had a miscarriage a couple of years ago. She fell down the stairs. It was tragic.”

Yeah, she bet the young woman fell down the stairs a lot. “I’d like to see her records. Could you pull them?”

“Sure. It’s not like I have anything better to do,” Mabel admitted. “We need to plot and plan because we have two more cancellations for tomorrow. You need to get out and meet the people.”

She wasn’t sure how meeting people would help. The people here seemed to take one look at her and run.

The door was flung open and an elderly man was being helped in by a younger man who might be his son. A second group followed with another man. He had white hair and wore a pair of Bermuda shorts he’d coupled with dress socks, loafers, and a white tank top. He had a bad gash over his right eye.