The living room held the odor of the beef and cabbage cooking in the Crock-Pot. Meg put down her book when Luke entered. She held up her finger to her mouth and shushed him, but he shook his head and went to stand beside their father sleeping in the recliner. “I need to talk to him. It’s important.”
Pop’s lids fluttered at the sound of Luke’s voice booming in the living room. He snuffled, then finally opened his eyes. He reached for the red hanky in the pocket of his overalls and dabbed his mouth. “Luke. What time is it?”
“About four.”
“Need water.” Their father made a grab for the glass on his side table and missed.
Meg got up and took it to him, then held the straw up to his lips. “Drink, Pop.”
He slurped up some water, then leaned back. “You look all spleeny about something. What’s up?”
Luke glanced at his sister and shook his head. Looming over their father would get his back up so he went to sit on the sofa. “There have been some new developments.”
Megan put down the glass and went back to the sofa. “We saw the newspaper. The second body we found on our property was the missing child, Claire Dellamare.”
“That’s only part of it.” He stared hard at Dad. “Claire’s father told her he found her in the woods. Obviously the child he took home wasn’t his daughter, but then, who was that child he found in the woods? If he found another girl who’d somehow gotten lost in the woods, shouldn’t someone have reported her missing?”
“Seems likely.”
“That’s what I thought. I had Danny check, and there’s no child of that age who went missing in this area. So whoever had Claire before didn’t report her missing. She wonders if her father paid for her. Maybe her parents were hard up, and he saw her resemblance to his daughter so he offered enough money that they couldn’t pass up.”
Megan’s expression showed she was still suspicious. He clasped his fingers together over his knee. “Pop, you and Mom met the Dellamares.”
“Did we now?” His father dabbed at his mouth with the hanky again.
“Aunt Nan told me they stopped by here and bought some cranberry jelly and other items. Do you remember?”
“Son, that was twenty-five years ago. I’m hardly likely to remember something from so long ago. If Nan says it’s so, she might be right, but thousands of tourists have stopped here.” He struggled to sit up straighter in the recliner. “You’re saying Dellamare killed her?”
“I don’t know anything much for sure. Pop, Mom’s remains are at the funeral home now. We’re having a memorial service on Tuesday.”
Pop’s eyes widened and he scowled. “Wicked stupid is what it is! Why put us all through that?”
“You don’t have to come,” Meg said.
“People will wag their tongues if I don’t.”
She rolled her eyes. “Since when do you care what people say?”
He chewed on his lip. “What time?”
“Two,” Luke told him. “At the church.” When was the last time Pop had come to church? Maybe Christmas ten years ago.
Pop grunted and fumbled for the TV remote. “I’ll think about it.”
Luke followed his sister into the kitchen. “You think he knows more than he’s telling?”
Meg went to the coffeepot and measured grounds into the filter. “He didn’t act suspicious in any way. Nothing about meeting the Dellamares stood out to him. Um, Luke, I accepted the job. Have you heard from the Coast Guard about a transfer yet?”
“Not yet.” He couldn’t tell her he hadn’t even asked. It appeared there would be no miracle for him. He would have to learn to deal with the cantankerous old man in the other room. He couldn’t see Claire ever living in this old farmhouse either. “I need to meet Claire at the ferry so we can take my truck to Summer Harbor. We’ll talk about it later.”
Claire stood outside the hospital room with Luke by her side. A nurse wheeling a dinner cart clattered by reeking of chicken, and the place smelled like it had been newly waxed. The door stood slightly ajar, and the muted sound of the TV news filtered through the opening.
“I hope Kate’s alone,” she whispered to Luke. “Thanks for meeting me here. I was mortified when I heard how Dad talked to the doctor. None of this is her fault.”
Luke put his hand on the door. “Want me to go first?”
She shook her head. “I’m not that cowardly.”
She touched the smooth metal door and gave it a push. Hooked up to monitors, Kate lay in the hospital gown with her hands crossed behind her head as she watched television in the pale-green room. With the beige curtains shut, shadows lined the space. Her lightly copper-colored hair was loose on the pillow.
Claire’s shoes squeaked on the tile, and Kate glanced up. Her half smile vanished, and she punched the button to lift her head even more. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see how you are.” Claire crossed the floor to stand beside the bed.
Luke stepped to the window and opened the curtains. Sunlight flooded the room, and Kate squinted but didn’t object. The sunlight streaming on her face showed more color than the last time Claire had seen her.
Claire poured her some fresh water and held out the cool glass. “You’re looking better.”
Her eyes wary, Kate took the glass and adjusted the straw to sip from it. “Thanks.” She handed the cup back to Claire. “Harry isn’t with you?”
Claire bit her lips at Kate’s desolate expression. “I’m sorry, Kate. I wish I really were a Dellamare. I would give you some bone marrow if I could. From what I gathered from my dad’s side of the conversation, your doctor thinks you need that transplant as soon as possible.”
“That’s right. But there’s always the hope that they’ll find a match in the donor database.”
Claire put the cup back on the stand. “You don’t have to be a relative to give bone marrow? I could get tested.”
Kate’s lips smiled but her eyes didn’t. “It would be a long shot if you’re not a relative.” She plucked at the crisp white sheets. “I’m not convinced about the identification of the child’s bones. Can’t you see the resemblance between us?” She tugged at her hair. “I wish I’d never dyed this.”
“We have a similar look, but they say everyone has a double.” Was Kate well enough to hear Claire’s suspicions about how her father had searched for a lookalike? Maybe not just yet.
Claire turned at the slapping of flip-flops behind her. A woman about her mother’s age came through the door. Her hair was caught up in a messy bun, and she wore denim capris and a white shirt that showed off toned arms. Her nails were short and bare, and she wore no makeup.
She froze when she saw Claire and couldn’t seem to look away. Some dim memory made Claire inhale and freeze in place. She’d seen this woman before, but where? The details of the room fell away, and her ears filled with roaring. She closed her eyes and saw trees looming at her. She heard a little girl call out a name. Not Claire’s name, but what was it? The memory was gone too quickly to snatch and hold it.
“Claire?” Luke touched her shoulder.
Her knees felt weak when she opened her eyes. “Sorry, I felt a little light-headed for a minute.”
“Sit down.” He guided her to one of the bedside chairs.
The woman jerked her gaze away and went to stand on the other side of the bed. “Kate, you scared me to death.”
“Sorry, Mom.”
Ah, Kate’s mother. She’d worked for Claire’s mother so surely they’d met when she was a baby. Vertigo hit again, and she realized they couldn’t have met. Not when she wasn’t really Claire Dellamare. Mary Mason had left the Dellamare employment before the real Claire’s fourth birthday, well before she’d ever taken the real Claire’s place. So why did Mary seem so familiar?
“Why didn’t you call me? I would have brought you in.”
“You left in such a hurry . . .” Kate held out her hand to Claire. “Mom, this is Claire. And her friend Luke.”
He murmured a greeting as Claire rose and grasped Kate’s mother’s cold fingers. “Nice to meet you, Mary.”
Mary winced when Claire spoke her name. “You too, Claire.”
Claire couldn’t look away from the warm green lights in Mary’s eyes. The vertigo came again, and she finally managed to look away as she sank back onto the seat. She couldn’t quite decipher the expression in the older woman’s face. Curiosity or distaste? Longing or revulsion? Mary masked her emotions well.
Mary went to plump Kate’s pillows. “When are you getting out of here?”
“I thought I was getting out soon, but the nurse just told me the doctor wants to keep me overnight. Would you mind getting me some toiletries and clean clothes?”
“I’ll do that right now.” Mary nodded at Claire and Luke, then rushed toward the door as if she couldn’t wait to get away.
With Kate’s mother out of the room, Claire could breathe again. She rose and grasped the bed’s metal railing. “What do I need to do to see if I’m a good donor?”
“It’s just a blood test.”
“I’ll do it too,” Luke said. “Has the newspaper asked for the community to be tested? Surely there’s a match somewhere close.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
When Kate pushed down the sheets to reach for her cell phone, Claire saw a doll lying beside her. Her pulse quickened and began to hammer in her neck.
She picked it up. “Where did you get this? I have one just like it.”
She’d always been told hers was one of a kind and hand-made in Paris with human hair. The big blue eyes were much like hers and Kate’s, and the mouth showed tiny white teeth. Claire’s still sat on her dresser at home, but she hadn’t really looked at it in years.
“It was a present from my dad after he went to Paris. For my fourth birthday.”
“There’s a mark on the foot—1990 with a watermark that looks like a B with a circle around it.” Claire upended the doll and removed one shoe to reveal the date and the watermark. She leaned over and showed it to Kate.
Her finger traced the watermark. “How’d you know that?”
“I have one just like it with the same date.” Claire reached for Luke’s hand. Why would they both have the same dolls bought from the same manufacturer in the same year?