They caught a few fish—well, Marco and Nick did. Andrea and Bella didn’t have any luck, but they didn’t care. It was fun having a glass of wine and eating all the delicious food everyone brought.

“How did you make your steak tips, Marco? They’re so good,” Bella asked.

He grinned. “It’s just garlic, a little olive oil, salt, pepper and fresh parsley. Lots of garlic!”

They stayed at the beach until almost six, when the temperature dropped a bit and they reluctantly decided to head home. No one was hungry enough to cook their fish because they’d been snacking all day, but Nick suggested coming for dinner the next night.

“I’m off tomorrow, too, and have some leftover fish from when Bella and I went a week or so ago. I can cook it all up. If that sounds good?”

“I’m in. I’m off around five,” Andrea said.

“And tomorrow is a day off for me, so count me in.”

Nick glanced her way and Bella nodded. “Definitely.”

“Perfect, why don’t you all come by around six.”

When they got back to The Whitley, Bella was thrilled to see that the cars that had been waiting out front earlier were gone. Still, she pulled on her baggy sweatshirt, big sunglasses and floppy hat just in case.

“Thanks for coming with us, Bella,” Nick said.

“Thanks for including me.” She waved to Andrea and Marco in the backseat. “Great to meet you both. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

When Bella walked through the lobby, she thought she sensed a few people looking at her more than usual but wondered if she was just imagining it and was paranoid that she was going to be recognized. When she got to her room, she took a hot shower, wrapped herself in one of the comfy bathrobes and made a cup of hot tea. And then she opened her laptop and went online.

She saw the media had done some digging and recognized her sister from old family photos and that confirmed for them that the cashier was right, and Cami Carmichael was on Nantucket. Someone saw them get into the white Whitley Range Rover for their ride home, so that’s how they knew where she was staying. She tried not to feel stressed about it by reminding herself that it was inevitable at some point that she’d be found out. And at least at The Whitley she was more protected as the hotel was on private and secluded grounds, and the beach was totally secure. The only way to access it was to walk across the property and there was good security.