“Yes,” Mike said.
“Are we any closer to finding Kate?” Tom asked.
“I think she is somewhere on the property,” Miranda said.
“Why do you think that?” Conor asked.
“I overheard Leo and Randy talking. They’re angry that Kate was taken—it wasn’t their idea.”
“Why did they lure her to Fernando’s studio, anyway? What good would that do?” Tom asked. “Why target Kate?”
Miranda hung her head for a moment, then looked up. “Someone blames her for the terrible life she had.”
“This is crazy,” Conor said. “Who?”
“We’re dealing with a murderer,” Tom said. “I’m assuming that person is Leo or Randy, since the woman was killed on Leo’s boat.”
“I didn’t see the murder, so I am not sure,” Miranda said. “I was only brought on after she was dead. But it’s possible.”
“Did one of them also kill Belinda?” Tom asked.
“Oh, no,” Miranda said. “Not at all.”
“Then who did?”
“The same person who killed Dr. Tyler,” Miranda said. “Belinda’s daughter.”
Tuesday, July 6; 6:00 p.m.
Sam couldn’t speak for a while. She sat there in silence, thinking of Dorothy, imagining how it had been for her. She thought about thestart of 1740. She pictured Crispin, a man she had met through Kate and whom she had liked. And Lincoln—her friend—the latest descendant of Cantwell Adams. Sam glanced at Jennifer, wondering how she had lived through it all.
“You okay?” Jennifer asked.
“I’m not sure,” Sam said. “Are you?”
“I’ve had more time to get used to this than you have.”
Sam nodded. But she wasn’t; she felt so shaken.
“What’s our plan?” Jennifer asked after a few minutes. “It seems as if we’re safe here for now, but we can’t stay forever. One of the members is bound to show up at some point. Or the security guard will come through on patrol, looking for us.”
“We should stay till dark,” Sam said, looking out the window. “Then get out to the main road and find a phone.” She remembered driving through farmland and open space on the way here with Lincoln. They had passed through a small town and gone by a shopping center, but how far away was it? “Are you sure we can’t use the one here?” she asked.
“We could use it, but a button would light up at the hospital, and they’d come running,” Jennifer said. She looked upset, the way Sam felt.
“Well, we might as well have something to eat,” Jennifer said after a minute. “It’s probably been a while since you had a meal, right?”
Sam shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
“Well, I’m going to feed you,” Jennifer said, beckoning Sam and heading down a corridor.
Sam hung back, really not interested in food. But then she sighed and followed her down the hall. She noticed the walls were covered with framed photos that looked like headshots. There were also pictures of people at formal events.
“Who are they?” Sam asked, pointing.
“Oh,” Jennifer said, stopping to see what she was looking at. “These photos are here to make the place seem more respectable. The hospital director, board members, donors, doctors.”
“Are they all 1740?” Sam asked.
