She looked back and forth between them for a minute. "Please"—she indicated the seating area behind her—"be seated. My housekeeper will get you a refreshment. I need to get out of these boots." She snatched her laptop case and swept up the stairs.

Nate and Marisa followed Rosa into the sitting area. A family portrait hung over the fireplace. Pamela was in the center. On her right stood a man in his mid-thirties with his arm around a woman about the same age. Two miserable looking boys around ten or eleven years old stood at their feet. On Pamela's other side stood a man in his early twenties beside an older, shorter man. Beside him stood another woman who was holding an infant. A little girl of about four stood in front of them. The two older men looked like Charles. The man who seemed the youngest and lacked a wife and children favored his mother, though with the dark brown goatee, it was hard to tell for sure.

Nate focused on that one. He looked vaguely familiar, though Nate couldn't figure out why.

The portrait had been professionally made—and within the previous eight years, considering Charles wasn't in it.

Marisa was staring at the photo, too.

"Something to drink?" Rosa asked.

Nate looked at Marisa and shook his head quickly in warning, but it hadn't been needed.

"I'll have a glass of water." Marisa's smile was the only hint that she'd ever spoken with Rosa before.

Nate winked at the woman and said, "I'll have the same. Thanks."

Rosa's tense shoulders relaxed as she walked away.

As soon as she was gone, Marisa crossed to the portrait. "Can you take a picture of that?"

"Why?"

She shook her head quickly, eyes wide. She seemed excited. He took out his phone and snapped a photo of the portrait. Marisa pointed to the man with the goatee. The same guy Nate had been looking at. "A close-up of him, please."

He snapped a few. At the sound of footsteps, he slipped his phone in his pocket.

Rosa reappeared carrying a tray with two glasses of water. She set the tray on the coffee table and went upstairs.

"What are you thinking?"

She whispered, "I'll tell you after."

Nate had originally asked for the water simply because Marisa had, but now he realized how thirsty he was. They hadn't eaten or drunk anything since they'd driven down from New Hampshire early that morning, and it was nearly lunchtime. He sat on the love seat and patted the space beside him. Marisa joined him. They sat in silence, though Marisa seemed to be nearly bouncing. Her eagerness made his heart race. He was definitely missing something.