He pointed to the house.

“I meant, is there a number I can call?” Elodie said.

“It’s up to you,” he said, smiling in amusement. “But I don’t know why you’d call on the phone if you can just stand at the foot of the stairs and holler up to her.”

Uncivilized, she thought, marching toward the house. The town, her sister, that man. She’d long ago accepted the fact that money couldn’t shield her from all of life’s indignities. But it should at least buffer her from this type of nonsense.

Although it violated all sense of propriety, Elodie tied Pearl’s leash to the wooden banister and climbed the steps to the second-floor entrance of the house. She knocked twice and got no response. She peered through the screen door and saw a kitchen.

“Hello?” she called out. No response.

Elodie walked back down to the boat rental booth.

“Excuse me,” she said to the man.

“I’m Tito,” he said.

“Tito,” she said, “it appears no one is available.” She reached into her bag for her business card, then realized she hadn’t brought any. “Do you have a piece of paper I could write my number on?”

He handed her a brochure for Barros Boatyard. The name was familiar. She thought for a minute and realized it was Jack’s last name.

“Do you have a brother?” she asked.

“Sure do. Manny. Do you know him?” He looked skeptical.

“No,” she said. And then, thinking of last names, she realized she should use her mother’s maiden name for this inquiry. People saw the name Pavlin and always charged more because they knew she had deep pockets. She pulled a pen from her bag and jotted down the name “Elodie Lowe.”

“Please give this to whomever is in charge and let them know I’d like the room for the night. And I’d like to check in as soon as possible.”

“I certainly will . . . Elodie,” he said, reading the card. Something about the way he said it seemed rude. Presumptuous. Perhaps the town was just very informal, but either way it ruffled her feathers. She needed a strong martini.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now, if you could please direct me to the nearest place I can find a cocktail.”

13

Celeste slipped into bed next to Jack, using a finger to hold her spot in the paperback she was reading. Jack had his reading glasses on, thumbing through a wooden-boat-restoration magazine.

“I just can’t believe Elodie showed up here like that,” Celeste said. Jack put down the magazine and looked at her.

“Try to look at it this way: It took two and a half decades, but at least she’s finally paid you a visit.”