THE HOUSE WAS NESTLED SOMEWHERE IN THE FOOTHILLS OF THE Catskill Mountains. Avery sat behind the wheel of the Range Rover as she cruised the two-lane mountain roads flanked on each side by thickets of forest. The drive was peaceful, with only the occasional car passing in the opposite direction. An hour and a half after she left the city, she turned into the drive of Emma Kind’s home. It was a cute Victorian with a wraparound front porch and a score of potted hibiscus hanging in long lines from the eaves. Even before Avery turned off the ignition, a round woman with graying hair walked through the screen door and stood on the porch. She looked to be in her sixties. She smiled from behind wire-framed glasses and lifted her hand in an amicable wave. The gesture prompted Avery to do the same from the front seat.

“You have got to be kidding me,” the woman said as Avery climbed from her car. “Avery Mason, in my front yard.”

Avery smiled as she walked toward the porch. When Avery had called earlier in the week, she’d heard more than a little skepticism in Emma Kind’s voice about whether she was really speaking with Avery Mason, the host of American Events.

“This is too much,” the woman said. “I told you I wouldn’t believe it until I saw it, and now I’m seeing it.”

“Your house is gorgeous,” Avery said when she reached the bottom of the porch steps.

“Thank you. Come inside, please.”

She climbed the front steps. “Avery Mason.”

The woman shook her hand emphatically. “Emma Kind. This is really just too much. Come on in.”

Avery followed Emma inside. The interior of the house was as quaint—a mixture of classic Victorian with a woodsy vibe. Sturdy oak beams lined the pitched ceilings, cherry-oak wood floors shined with the afternoon sun, and ornate moldings outlined the entryways.

“What can I get you to drink?” Emma asked. “Tea, water, coffee?”

“Oh, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

Emma opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of chardonnay. “Avery Mason is standing in my kitchen, so I’m having a glass of wine. Would you like to join me?”

“I suppose it would be impolite to say no twice.”

Emma smiled and removed two wineglasses from the cabinet. They headed to the back where they sat in the shade of a large patio umbrella and stared off to the mountain peaks in the distance. Emma poured two glasses of chardonnay.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” Avery said, taking a sip of wine. “I’m sure it’s not easy to talk about your sister, even this many years later.”

Emma pulled her gaze from the mountains and looked at Avery with a smile. “Even after twenty years I still miss her.”

“Victoria was your younger sister?”