Shay goes white. “Was he murdered?”
“We don’t know,” Joe says. “We know he couldn’t swim. The Coast Guard found the boat out in the Sound.”
“He has a boat, and he can’t swim?” I ask.
“It happens,” Joe says, in that way he has of showing that there isn’t anything on earth he hasn’t seen or heard about. “It looks like he slipped and fell, possibly sustaining a head injury. Or that could have happened after he’d been knocking around the rocks in the harbor.”
Shay and I both wince.
“Anyway,” Joe says briskly, “we’ll know more after the autopsy.”
“Was the dinghy missing?”
Joe turns to me. “No.” He looks surprised that I would think of that, but it was the first question that popped into my head.
“But if he was murdered, how did the killer get away?”
“There could have been two boats,” Joe says. “Or the killer could have swum to shore. It’s possible. The tides are tricky, but you can do it.”
Shay has gone very still. “Am I a suspect, Joe?” she asks.
“Nobody’s a suspect,” he says. “I don’t know if he was murdered. I’m just looking for background.”
“Oh. Because you’re acting like I’m a suspect.”
“I’m just gathering information.”
“You could be nicer about it.”
Joe looks annoyed. “I’m on a case, Shay. I don’t have time to hold your hand.”
She’s furious. He catches her anger, and chooses to ignore it. I’m watching them like a tennis match.
He turns to me. “Speaking of the case, I hear your father is in town. Why did he come?”
“He heard that my mother died,” I say.
“That was two years ago.”
“He was out of touch.”
He turns to Shay. “Nathaniel Millard was one of the group that summer.”
“He was a friend before he became my brother-in-law,” Shay says in a small, tight voice that isn’t like hers. “I haven’t seen him since Gracie was a baby.”
“Do you know where he’s staying?”
“The inn in Greystone Harbor,” I say. “Why?”
Joe stands. “Just gathering information,” he says.
I know why Joe is going to talk to Nate. Is it just a coincidence that he’s shown up, and Joe has a murdered guy on his hands?
Is this a reunion or a crime scene?
Shay drives me to school. She’s gripping the steering wheel and grinding her teeth. Once, she pops out with, “‘I don’t have time to hold your hand,’ he says!” Detective that I am, I get that she’s thinking about Joe.
She stops in the parking lot and turns to me.
“Look,” she says, “I know you feel I should have told you all this. You have to believe I was going to. I wanted to find your father first. I hired a private detective to find him.”
“Why?” I couldn’t believe that it was Shay who’d started all this.
“Because he was always out there!” Shay bursts out. “I don’t know what he’d want. And the fact that this man owns half my house and could take you away from me—I couldn’t sleep at night, thinking of that. I had to do something. I offered to buy him out, and he said yes. But he had to see you first.”
“Buy him out?”
“Of the house,” she says. “I don’t want his name on the deed.”
I’m just sitting there, clutching the door handle, trying to make sense of all this.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
“I didn’t know if I’d find him.”
“Well, you found him.” I can’t even look at her. I’m too confused and angry. “Happy now?”
“You have every reason in the world to hate him,” Shay says. “Of course. But he’s just a man, Gracie. A screw-up, sure. But someone who wants to know you. Do you know, the private detective told me that when he told Nate that Carrie was dead, he broke down. He really didn’t know, Gracie. Nate called me soon after. I told him not to come up, that I wanted to talk to you first, but he couldn’t wait. I was shocked when he drove by. I thought I’d have time to prepare you.”
“Did he know Hank Hobbs?” I ask.
“What?” Shay is startled.
“You were all there that summer. Did he know him?”
“You think he could have killed Hank Hobbs?”
“I’m just asking.”
“I don’t think he ever met him,” Shay says. “I know I didn’t. We were protesting against a company; we didn’t target any individuals. Nate isn’t a murderer, Gracie. I know he isn’t.”
“You haven’t seen him in twenty years.”
“I don’t care. I knew him pretty well back then. He was irresponsible, obviously. Maybe not the most truthful person I ever met. But he wouldn’t commit cold-blooded murder. He couldn’t.”
How can she be so sure? I’m not.
“I wish I hadn’t started this.” She blows out a breath and rests her forehead on the steering wheel for a moment. “I know I just made a mess of everything. But I was thinking of you the whole time.”
“Maybe…maybe you should have thought a little harder,” I say.
I see Shay’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Good point,” she says.