Their tasks set, the five men hurried off, leaving only the four of them. He and Libby, Mabena. And for a reason yet to be determined, Casek Wearne.

Oliver turned to him, all the adrenaline from the preceding minutes surging again. “Now. You. What were you doing there? Are you involved in all this too?”

Casek’s arm dropped from Mabena’s waist. “I’ve about had enough of you and your accusations, Tremayne. Last I checked, you didn’t own this island, nor the caves.”

“So you just happened to be there. Pure coincidence.” Oliver took a step closer, even though he knew he was asking for trouble.

Maybe he needed a bit, a bit that he could control. A bit of the familiar sort that didn’t involve guns and threats of death.

And Casek was never one to disappoint on that score. He met him, shoved a hand into his shoulder. “I just happened to be where my student died over a month ago, yes. Because, apparently, of something your sister had cooked up! And you want to turn it on me?”

“Johnnie wasn’t Beth’s fault.” He didn’t know if it was true. Only that he needed it to be. He shoved back. “She never would have wished him harm.”

Casek knocked his hand away, reached into the bag slung over his shoulder, and pulled out something white. Tossed it at him. “It’s Beth behind all this, and you won’t convince me otherwise. Unless you’re going to try and tell me it’s your grandmother stalking the shores of the uninhabited islands, getting everyone worked up.”

“What?” Oliver caught the white thing, frowning at the feel of silk in his fingers. A shawl, he saw when he let the length unravel. His heart sank like a stone into his stomach as his fingers found the corner. The embroidery. The familiar Tremayne crest there, with its fancy T monogram. Mamm-wynn had given this shawl to Beth on her eighteenth birthday.

“Where did you . . . ?”

But Oliver knew even as he asked it.

“On Samson, right after my students were talking about the White Lady being spotted.” Looking thoroughly disgusted, Casek shook his head. “I don’t know what she’s about, but she’s deliberately trying to stir people up. And it started after Johnnie. She’s behind all this—she caused it—and now we’re all left rocking, because a Tremayne never cares for anything but a Tremayne!”

“Casek.” The croak from Mabena was more effective than a shout would have been in wheeling Casek around like a stallion brought up short. She had a hand pressed to her head and was swaying on her feet. Libby had reached out to steady her, worry on her face.

Casek knocked her hand aside too and swept Mabena up into his arms. “To the doctor with you, dearover.”