Twenty minutes later, a knock at the front door distracted Ivy from a box filled with cloth napkins and tablecloths. Ivy opened her door.

Dani stood on her doorstep. Smiling. “Looks like you’re having a yard sale.”

“Trying to get rid of all the less-than-charming stuff Ruth saved,” Ivy said.

Dani paused. “What’s that smell? Dog?”

Ivy stepped aside and, as Dani passed, closed the door. “I found a pregnant dog this morning, and she gave birth behind those boxes over there.”

Dani grinned. “Can I see?”

“Go easy. She’s still nervous.”

“I was a wreck after Bella was born.” Dani moved slowly and then peeked behind the boxes. Her expression softened. She snapped a couple of pictures with her phone. “Don’t let Bella see the puppies. She’ll fall in love.”

“In seven or eight weeks, they’ll need homes. You and Bella can have the pick of the litter.”

“Puppies are like having babies. I’m saving all my two o’clock in the mornings for sleeping, Bella, and maybe a hot date.”

“Two a.m. was about the time I used to get off work.”

“In New York. This is Nags Head. This time of year, we roll up the streets at ten p.m.”

“That’s got to cramp your style.”

She shrugged. “Not anymore. I’m a day person.”

“Since when?” Ivy remembered more than a few late nights the two had spent out at a party or drinking (when they weren’t legal) on the beach.

“We all evolve.” Dani looked around the room. “You’ve made progress.”

“All the big items appear to be in this room. I’m afraid the bedrooms are going to be more time consuming. I cleaned out Ruth’s closet, but there’s so much to go through in her room I decided to focus on the big stuff first.”

Dani held up a bag. “I brought doughnuts.”

“Doughnuts?”

“Unless you’ve evolved beyond your sweet tooth.”

“I have not.” Ivy accepted the box and looked inside at the three chocolate-bacon doughnuts and the three vanilla glazed with sprinkles. “I wish I had the metabolism of a teenager.”

Dani chuckled. “Don’t we all.”

Ivy selected a chocolate doughnut. “Can I pour you a coffee?”

“God, yes.”

Dani sat at the dining room table as Ivy made a fresh pot and then filled two stoneware mugs. She glanced at the hotel register. “It’s from the Seaside Resort.”

“Ruth saved the years 1931 to 1939.”

Dani’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the names. “Mr. Edward W. Trainer, of New York. Duck hunter.”

Ivy set the doughnuts on the table and sat across from Dani. How many years had she been pissed at Dani? And now they were sitting together as if time or drama had not passed between them.

“Mr. James T. Kelce, of Wilmington, Delaware, duck hunter,” Dani said.

“January is still duck-hunting season.”

“A lot of men and hunters.” She scanned the list and turned the pages. She paused. “A woman, traveling alone. That’s not that common.”

Ivy leaned forward. “Mrs. Janet Irvington.”