“Maybe it is from Christine,” Russell said. “Anyway, I’d say it’s more grist for Eddie’s mill. And didn’t you say there’d been a sighting in Florida?”

“Yes, at or near the motel where she used to work in Orlando. I’ll courier this to him,” Shallie said. “And he can pass it on to Tony.”

She brought home the postcard to show Cord and Eli over lunch, and they agreed it was worth sending to Eddie. Shallie made the arrangements at the small courier office on Main—actually a kiosk at the drugstore—then met Carly at Meg’s.

On their way home, she told her about the postcard. What seemed to impress Carly most was the information about the cats. “Wow! So they’re all descendants of Hemingway’s cats?”

“Yeah. And his wife at the time, Pauline. Oh, and the cats are polydactyl.” Shallie had made a point of looking up Hemingway House for her own information.

“What’s that?”

“It means they have an extra digit—like a thumb.”

“Cool! So can they open packages and type and stuff like that?”

“I’m sure some of them can.”

“But if it was…your mom, why did she send that card?”

“I guess to let me know, in an indirect way, where she was at the time, which was about fourteen years ago. But right now?” She shrugged. “Could be anywhere. Or nowhere.”

“It’s Eddie’s job to find that out, right?”

“Right.” And by then they’d reached the house.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Friday of Thanksgiving Weekend

THEY WERE ALL gathered around the dining-room table—Cord and Shallie, Carly, Brynne, Tina and Mitch—finalizing plans for tomorrow’s party.

Brynne went through her menu, the bar list, quantities. “So, we’re expecting about sixty guests,” she said.

“Yes,” Shallie confirmed. “From near and far.” Julie and family would be coming from San Diego, Emma from Seattle, Eddie from Tucson.

Brynne smiled at that. “Okay, I think we’re covered.”

“Don’t forget the bourbon for Russ,” Shallie said.

“And we’ll provide the dog treats,” Carly put in.

“I figured,” Brynne said with a laugh. “I love that dogs are welcome.”

Cord laughed, too. “I’m sure you wouldn’t expect any different.”

“Not here, I wouldn’t.” She paused, looking up. “Is that a phone I hear?”

“It’s my cell,” Shallie answered. “Now, where did I leave it?”

“In the kitchen, I think.” Carly jumped up to get it. “Yeah—and it’s Eddie calling.”

Shallie answered seconds before the call could go to voice mail. “Hi, Eddie! Hope you’re not canceling on us.”

“No way. But…are you sitting down?”

“Um, no.”

“Sounds like you have people over. I suggest you and Cord go into another room for a few minutes.”

“Hold on. We’ll call you back,” she said breathlessly.

She leaned down to say in Cord’s ear, “We need to talk to Eddie. Privately.”