“My mother and Tina.” She picked up the phone and dialed her mom, then listened to the phone ring and ring. “It’s five in the morning, and she’s not home. She’s probably having another hot tub episode.”

“Hot tub episode?”

“Yeah, her and Tina—Never mind.” She dialed her aunt’s place and got a sleepy sounding Bill.

“I’m sorry,” Summer said. “I know it’s late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. But these accounting books have been calling my name all night. Are my mom and your wife boozing in the hot tub again?”

“No, sorry, Camille’s not here.”

Summer had forgotten. Her mother had taken the leap. “How about Tina? Can I talk to her?”

“What’s up, Cookie? Because I hate to wake her. She’s been having such trouble sleeping.”

“I know.” Summer chewed on her thumbnail. “Listen, I wish I already knew this because it makes me sound like a horrible niece and daughter for having to ask, but…”

“What?”

“Neither of them are in financial trouble, are they?”

Bill laughed. “Those two penny-pinchers? Are you kidding?”

When Summer didn’t laugh, he got serious. “Okay, what’s the matter? What did you find?”

“Nothing concrete,” she said, suddenly deciding this would be better done in person. “Tell Tina I’ll meet her at the store in a few hours.” She clicked off and sighed.

Joe was still sifting through the papers. “Let’s keep going.”

Half an hour later, with the sun coming up, Summer’s cell beeped. Startled, she stared at Joe for a long breath, then looked at the message.

Stop remembering. LEAVE. This is your final warning.

Joe stared down at the digital display. “How spooked are you?”

“Uh…” On a scale of one to ten, make that a twelve, please. “Not too much.”

“Truth.”

“Truth?” She dropped her head to the table with a thunk. “I think my mother is covering for Tina. I think Tina is covering for my mother. And that it could be either one of them is making me want to throw up.”

He put his hand on her back and stroked. “Your polite but terrifying stalker is trying to scare you out of here because you know something.”

“I don’t remember any more than what I’ve said.”

“They’re not sure of that.”

“I’m not afraid of anyone here.” She wasn’t. Her terror was bigger than that. Such as the reality of seeing someone she cared about go to prison. “Much.”

Joe sighed, then gathered her close. “Do you want me to stay?”

Being held by him was like coming home again. Shockingly good, shockingly right. “Yes, but it has nothing to do with being scared.” She pressed her face to his throat and inhaled his scent.