Caitlin was so lost in thought that she might have kept walking right past the cottages if Pepper hadn’t veered toward the staircase.
It’s amazing that he can see where he’s going with all that long hair in his eyes, she observed, wondering if it was time for a trim.Although I suppose he relies more on his sense of smell than on his vision. I bet he could find his way home even in the pitch dark…
Out of nowhere, the observation made Caitlin think of Nicole walking along this stretch of sand the evening she died. But instead of reliving the shock and sadness of her death like she usually did, Caitlin puzzled over a logistical issue that she’d once put aside: why had Nicole continued walking past the staircase leading to The Windmill Cottages and ended up in the water, rather than just coming home?
It was after dusk when she left the party, so I suppose it’s possible that she didn’t see our stairs.But there were additional sets of staircases belonging to each of the four houses farther down the beach. If Nicole had missed turning off at The Windmill Cottages, wouldn’t she have gone up one of the other sets of steps, recognized her mistake, and then reversed direction?
Furthermore, just beyond the final house, the dunes began to dwindle, until the sandy slopes diminished completely.Nicole had seen the terrain near the marsh in the daytime, so she knew how flat it was. Even in the dark, she must have noticed that there weren’t any dunes beside her.Then why had she continued walking? It didn’t make any sense, consideringhow squeamish Nicole was about the little sea creatures that inhabited the tidal pools.
Caitlin suddenly felt so bothered by the incongruity that she could feel the muscles in her shoulders and neck tighten into knots. Just as she’d done after discovering the photos and the placemat with the date of Nicole’s death written on it, she told herself,Obsessing over this isn’t going to do me any good, and it won’t change the past.
Yet no matter how hard she tried, for the rest of the weekend Caitlin couldn’t shake the sneaking suspicion that she didn’t know whatreallyhappened the evening Nicole drowned.
NINE
The last Friday in October, just after Caitlin slid a tray of muffins from the oven, Shane knocked on the back door. Still wearing her oven mitt, she held the door open and gestured for him to come in.
“I’d better not. My boots are covered in sawdust.” He inhaled deeply. “I thought I smelled something tasty while I was working.”
“They’re pumpkin spice muffins. I don’t usually bake so often, but I’ve got extra time on my hands lately, so I’ve sort of turned my kitchen into a muffin factory. You know how it is when you’re single—it’s impractical to make an entire pie or cake for yourself. But muffins freeze well, so I can thaw a single serving whenever I want a yummy homemade treat,” she rambled before she realized that Shane probably wasn’t interested in her latest culinary practices. “Anyway, they’re still too hot to eat right now but if you want, I can bring a couple to you with a cup of cocoa in a few minutes.”
“Thanks, but I was coming to tell you I need to take off for the day.” He explained, “I wouldn’t usually interrupt one client’s scheduled project to go work on someone else’s, especially notat short notice. But unfortunately, this client urgently needs his wheelchair ramp repaired, so I have to make an exception.”
“Of course,” said Caitlin. “And if you need to work on the ramp next week, too, please feel free. The windmill can wait.”
“Nah, the ramp should only take a couple hours. I just need to finish it before his family brings him home from the hospital around six o’clock.”
As they were chatting, Marion and Pepper came up the walkway behind Shane. “Oh, good, you’re both here,” Marion said in a singsong voice.
They greeted her and Shane kissed the elderly woman’s cheek, which Caitlin thought was quite sweet of him.
“It’s good to see you. I take it you’re feeling better?” he asked Marion as Caitlin stepped outside and bent down to gently scratch Pepper behind his ears.
“I feel fantastic—and just in time. Tonight’s the Halloween costume party at the cranberry farm, and I’m hosting the refreshment table. As I’ve mentioned to both of you, all the proceeds from the party benefit the community center,” she said in a rush. “Even though I’m on the committee I’ve been a bit derelict in my fundraising duties. So I thought I’d better pop over to remind both of you to show your support for a very good cause. There’s a suggested donation of ten dollars to attend, and another five to go through the hay bale maze, which you won’t want to miss.”
Caitlin stopped petting Pepper and straightened into a standing position. She was about to tell Marion that she’d be happy to make a donation to the community center, but she’d decided not to attend the party.
However, Marion didn’t give her a chance. “Shane, you’ll have to give Caitlin a ride since she doesn’t have a car and I have to be there early to set up,” she directed him, as if the matter of their attendance had already been decided.
Mortified by her neighbor’s obvious matchmaking attempt, and aware that Shane resented being set up by his cousin, Caitlin objected, “I can’t go. I don’t have a costume.”
“Neither do I,” said Shane. “Although I’m sure I could put something together after work. What time does the party start?”
“The festivities for children and their parents or caretakers run from six thirty to eight o’clock, but the adults-only party doesn’t start until eight thirty,” Marion countered. “So, you two bright, creative individuals will have plenty of time to make costumes by then. Just wait till you see mine—it’s inspired by Pepper.”
Hearing his name, the little dog barked and sprang to his feet. He gazed up at Marion as if to say, “it’s time to go now.” She bid them goodbye, waved her hand, and allowed Pepper to lead her toward the driveway.
Shane turned back to Caitlin. “What do you think? You want to go?”
“It sounds like a lot of fun and I’m tempted, but, you know, I…” Caitlin let her sentence dangle. She didn’t know how to express her reservations about going to the party. It wasn’t as if she could say she didn’t think it was a good idea to date someone who worked for her, since he hadn’t exactly asked her out—Marion had been the one to suggest it. And of course, she couldn’t explain how mortifying it would be if someone recognized her or remembered her name and started talking about the accident, especially in front of him. So she offered a minor excuse, instead.
“I’m kind of keeping a low profile while I’m on the island, remember?” Even as she said it, Caitlin felt ridiculous; it wasn’t as if she were a celebrity dodging paparazzi. “I mean, I still don’t want people to find out that I’m here to remodel the cottage before I put it up for sale, but I also wouldn’t want to be rude ifsomeone asked an innocent, friendly question about who I am or why I’m on the island or whatever.”
Shane’s face fell. “Yeah, I can see your dilemma.” Suddenly his expression brightened again. “But with the right costume, you could go completely incognito!”
“You mean, like if I wore a bedsheet over my head and went as a ghost?” Caitlin laughed, amused at the idea of dressing up as a ghost so she wouldn’t be seen.
But Shane was being earnest. “Yeah, although you could do something a little more involved than that—like wrapping your head and body with strips of a cut-up sheet and going as a mummy,” he said enthusiastically. “Or, you could be an old-time Wild West outlaw and wear a kerchief over your face. Or if you want to be more respectable, you could go as a surgeon and wear a mask.”
