“No,” she said. It was a lame effort. Even she could hear how defensive she sounded.
“Oh my God, you did,” he accused. He chortled as he turned onto the neighborhood road that would lead them back to town. “Someone has been reading too many gothic novels.”
“I have not,” she said. This was also a fib, as she’d recently dug up all her old Victoria Holt novels and delved into what she considered her Rebecca-light reading. Maybe it had gotten into her head, or maybe there really was something creepy and wrong about the Milstein house.
“Specters or whatever aside,” Robbie said, “I’m going to mention my talk with Larry to Emma. The man has a fine taste in whiskey, I’ll give him that, but I felt like he wasn’t telling me something. I was studying him, and he paused quite a bit while we were talking, as if he was considering every word he said. That’s odd, don’t you think?”
“Weirder than seeing a face in the window? No,” she said. “It could be that as a public figure he’s very careful, but, yes, you should tell her anyway. Listen, Theresa told me something that I also find odd. Larry has taken a hefty life insurance policy out on her as the future Mrs. Milstein.”
“Really?” Robbie frowned.
“That’s what she said. I feel like it’s strange that he did it before they were married.”
“Agreed.”
“How are you going to explain that you were enjoying whiskey with Larry Milstein while she was questioning Kayla Manning, the only suspect in the case so far?”
“I am simply going to tell her the truth,” he said. “I saw you struggling with a big bag of books that needed delivering to the Milstein’s, and I offered you a ride.”
“That’s a slight variation on the truth.”
“And yet, still true,” he said.
“Only by the narrowest margin,” she agreed.
“And I’ll mention the life insurance policy and see if that gets me out of hot water,” he said.
“Good move.”
They drove silently through town. Robbie was dropping her off at home, and while Lindsey was happy to be going home, where she’d be with her dog, Heathcliff, and Sully, she was also a teeny bit reluctant. Being in the Milstein’s house, so like her former residence, with its three stories and ocean view, before she moved in with Sully, had made her a bit homesick for her old apartment.
As Robbie pulled into the driveway and waited for her to climb out, he said, “Tell the soggy sailor I said hello.”
“I will,” Lindsey said. She didn’t move.
“Something wrong?” Robbie asked.
“No, not really. Does Emma whistle?”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, that was a random thought. Never mind, forget I said anything,” she said. She reached for the door handle and popped open the passenger door, letting the cold night air into the warm car.
“No, no, no,” Robbie said. He took her arm and held her in her seat. “You don’t get to ask a weird question and then just climb out of the car with no explanation. Why do you want to know if Emma whistles?”
“No reason,” she said. “Really, it’s stupid.”
“Good, then it shouldn’t be a problem to tell me.”
“It’s nothing,” she insisted. Robbie stared at her, waiting, clearly prepared to wait for however long it took. Lindsey shut her door to keep the heat pouring out of the floor vents from escaping. “Oh, all right, it’s just that Sully whistles every morning when he wakes up. Every morning, whistling, it could make a girl mental—that’s all.”
Robbie blinked at her, and then he laughed. “He’s driving you crazy.”
“No, he isn’t,” she clarified. “The whistling is.”
Robbie nodded, his grin showing every bit of his gleaming white Hollywood teeth.
“You’re laughing at me,” she said.
“Only a smidgeon,” he admitted. “It’s nice to know the buoy boy isn’t perfect.”
“No one’s perfect.”
“No, but I come pretty close,” he said.
Lindsey laughed and rolled her eyes. Leave it to Robbie to make her grateful she had to deal only with whistling and not an ego the size of the Atlantic.
“And with that, I will talk to you later,” she said. Again, she reached for the door handle, but Robbie didn’t let go of her arm. Instead, he gave it a quick squeeze to bring her attention back to him before he let go.
“Can I make an observation from one friend to another?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“Listen, I know this might be weird coming from me, but have you considered that the little things Sully does aren’t really what’s bothering you?”
“No, I’m pretty sure the sunrise serenade is exactly what’s bugging me.”
“Humor me,” he said. “You and the water boy have been on and off a couple of times, and it could be that you’re trying to protect yourself from a future hurt by using some of his idiosyncrasies as a buffer for your feelings.”
Lindsey blinked at him.
“Oh my God, you have been watching entirely too much Dr. Phil,” she said.
Robbie raised his hands in the air in a gesture of innocence. “I’m just saying you should consider the possibility. Maybe it’s not his annoying habit that’s got you on edge so much as your own vulnerability now that you live together.”
Lindsey gave him side-eye. “I’m telling Emma that you are entirely too in touch with your feminine side.”
“She’s the chief of police,” he said. “One of us has to be.”
Lindsey laughed at his pointed look and said, “Women can have any job they want and still be feminine.” Then she held up a hand to stop his retort. “And, yes, men can be in touch with their feminine side, too. I’ll think about what you said.”
“That’s my girl,” he said. “But do not under any circumstances let Captain Knuckle Dragger know that I have his back. It would ruin our adversarial rapport.”
“I promise.”
She climbed out of the car and headed toward the house, determined not to let a little whistling get on her nerves.
Lindsey unlocked the front door and strode inside. Out of habit she braced herself. Sure enough, Heathcliff, her hairy black rescue dog, came at her at a run. He barked and wagged his tail at the same time, and when he got to Lindsey, he stood on his back legs and hugged her about the knees.
“Oh, who’s a good dog? Who’s mommy’s handsome fella?” Lindsey asked as she scratched him behind the ears.
Heathcliff promptly dropped to the floor and offered up his belly for rubs. Lindsey bent over him and rubbed his tummy until his tongue lolled out of his mouth.
Sully’s head popped out of the kitchen. “Dinner in five minutes.”
“You cooked?” she asked. She toed off her shoes, happy to be home.
Sully’s head popped back out. He watched her kick her shoes to the side of the foyer. He frowned.
“I didn’t cook exactly,” he said. “The deli in the grocery store had a special on their beef stew, so I bought a quart of it along with some fresh bread.”
“It smells amazing.”
“Thanks.”
Sully walked toward her, and Lindsey lifted her face for a hello kiss, but he ducked around her and grabbed her shoes, putting them in the wicker basket to the side of the door, where they kept all their shoes. Then he turned around, kissed her quickly, and went back to the kitchen.
Lindsey looked down at Heathcliff. “Huh, what do you make of that?”
Heathcliff barked, and Lindsey was pretty sure he was telling her that Sully was not down with her not putting her shoes in the basket.
With Heathcliff at her side, Lindsey slid onto a stool at the kitchen counter. Sully was just pulling the bread out of the oven. He had already put two steaming bowls of stew on the counter, and now he put the bread in a basket between them.
“Are you mad at me?” Lindsey asked.
“No, why would you think that?”
“Um, perfunctory kiss hello,” she said. “No ‘How was your day?’ In fact, I’ve seen none of the usual I-haven’t-seen-you-all-day-gosh-I-missed-you niceties coming from you, which makes me think you’re irritated.”
“Not irritated,” he said. He poured her a glass of wine and got himself a beer. Then he took the seat beside hers. “Was that Robbie who brought you home? I ask because when I swung by the library to give you a ride home so you wouldn’t get soaked in the rain, Beth let me know that you’d taken off with him.”
“Ah.” Lindsey smacked her forehead with her palm. “I forgot to text you, didn’t I? I am so sorry. That was unforgivably rude. I have no excuse except that Liza Milstein was in and then Emma came by and then there was a break-in at Theresa’s house—”
“Which, of course, you had to help with,” Sully said. “Being the head librarian and all.”
Lindsey studied the severe line of his mouth. He looked annoyed, but Sully was never annoyed, so was he annoyed or . . . ?
“Are you laughing at me?” she asked.
He lifted one eyebrow as he studied her. “Me?”
Lindsey grinned. “You are, aren’t you?”
She closed the space between their chairs and looped her arms about his neck, pulling him close. When they were just inches apart, he smiled.
“No one warned me that a librarian for a girlfriend would be such a handful,” he said. “I think I was woefully unprepared.”
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s that whole rage-for-order thing. It makes us troublesome.”
“Good thing I like trouble,” he said. Then he kissed her, and Lindsey knew everything was all right. Still, the shoes. She needed to ask about the shoes. He kissed her again and she forgot.
When they broke apart, Sully’s smile was wide, and he pushed her stew toward her and said, “Eat and talk.”
“In that order?”
“Yes.”
Lindsey didn’t need to be told twice. She tucked in and recounted the events of the day while she did.
Sully’s eyebrows went up when he heard about Theresa’s attacker, but he didn’t interrupt, letting Lindsey tell all of it before he asked questions. It occurred to her that this was a rare and wondrous quality in a man. It made her want to hug him again and more than made up for the morning whistling.
When she paused to eat, Sully broke off a chunk of bread and used it to swab up the stew in his bowl. He chewed while he considered what she’d told him, and then he asked, “How did Theresa seem tonight when you stopped by?”
“She seemed to be making the best of a very scary situation,” Lindsey said. “But I could tell she was tired and wary.”
“Wary,” he said. He picked up his beer and took a long sip. “That’s an interesting word choice, given that she is in her fiancé’s house with bodyguards. Why wary?”
Lindsey blew out a breath. Here it was. The end of her story. Did she tell him about the photograph and the face in the window or not?
“Okay, so I don’t want you to think I’m crazy or overly imaginative or weird,” she said.
Sully slowly lowered his beer. “Now you have my full attention. Tell me, why would I think any of those things?”
“I think I saw a ghost,” Lindsey said. The words came out in a rush, as if they were tripping over each other to get out.
“A what, who, huh?”
“Ghost. G-h-o-s-t. Ghost.”
He stared at her and then drained his beer before plunking the empty glass onto the counter. He ran a hand over his face.
“Okay, I’m ready. Explain.”
“I know—I know I sound crazy,” she said.
“Not crazy, exactly,” he said. “Tell me what happened. I bet we can figure it out.”
Lindsey told him about Theresa’s pensive glance at the picture on the mantel and then how she saw a face in the window that resembled the picture when she and Robbie were leaving.
“You had a really stressful day,” he said.
“No, don’t,” she said. “Don’t dismiss it as me being overwrought. You know me—I am never overwrought.”
“True,” he said. “Even when you’ve had to do things you’re afraid of, like jump into deep water in the dark.”
“Yes, that’s much more terrifying. I will take a room full of ghosts over that any day,” she said. Then she shivered.
“Do you really think it was a ghost?” he asked. “I never thought you were the ghost-believing sort.”
“I’m not saying I believe in ghosts.” She paused. “But I’m not not saying it either.”
“What did Robbie say when he saw it?”
“He didn’t,” she said. “He missed it, but he theorized that it was staff in the house or a nurse for Theresa.”
“That makes sense,” Sully said. “A house that size with the money Milstein has. They are bound to have a full staff.”
“I suppose,” Lindsey said. “Did you know Larry’s first wife?”
“Sarah Milstein?” he asked. “Yes, she was a Creeker, born and raised in the village like Mary and me. She was seven years ahead of me in school, and her maiden name was Sarah Hubbard. I didn’t know her very well. In fact, I was in the navy when she married Milstein, which by all accounts was the wedding of the century in Briar Creek.”
Lindsey took her phone out of her bag. She opened up her pictures and chose the one she took at the Milstein house. She gave the phone to Sully.
“Is that her?” she asked. She held her breath while Sully enlarged the picture. He blinked and then glanced up at her. His face was grim.
“Yes, that’s her.”
“Sully, that’s the woman I saw in the window. I know it is.”
He ran a hand over his face as if he didn’t like anything about this.
Lindsey put her hand on his arm. “Sully, how did Sarah Milstein die?”
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“Oh, I thought Liza or Theresa or one of the crafternooners would have told you.”
“Told me what?” Lindsey forced herself to be still and not kick her feet with impatience. “I thought she died of a disease or an aneurysm or something.”
“No, in fact, no one knows the truth. She disappeared from town one day just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Since there’s been no sign of her, it’s believed she was murdered, but her body was never found.”
Lindsey slumped back against the counter. “Body? Her body? Is there a reason to believe she was murdered?”
Sully shrugged. “When a person vanishes without a trace, foul play is usually involved.”
“Who was the main suspect?”
“Larry, initially, but when it was discovered that he was out of town on business, it seemed highly unlikely. Plus, he adored her.”
Lindsey thought about the man who doted on Theresa. Maybe she was misjudging him, but she just didn’t see him as a murderer.
“And she just vanished?”
“Yup,” Sully said. “Larry tried everything. He hired detectives, he ran commercials begging anyone who might have seen her to call, but even with a hefty reward being offered, there was no sign of her. She vanished without a trace.”
Lindsey’s eyes went wide, and she reached for her glass of wine. The tart beverage gave her taste buds a slap of wakefulness, and she put her glass down, focusing on Sully.
“Tell me everything you remember,” she said.
He frowned. “I’m afraid it’s not much. Like I said, I was away in the navy when all of this was happening.”
Lindsey felt something press against her leg. She looked down, and Heathcliff was giving her his I’m starving to death expression. Lindsey hopped off her stool and grabbed his bowl from his mat in the corner. He followed her as if to offer his assistance as a sous chef.
Lindsey prepped his food, keeping an eye on Sully while she did. He looked to be trying to remember the details of what had happened. Lindsey let him gather his thoughts, patting Heathcliff on the head as she put his food down. She resumed her seat and stared at Sully expectantly, much like Heathcliff had watched her with the food.
“If I remember right, and that’s a big if,” Sully said, “Liza was five years old and attending kindergarten at Briar Creek Elementary. I remember because my mother was teaching there at the time, and it was quite the scandal. School ended, and Sarah didn’t show up to retrieve Liza. When they called her, she didn’t answer her phone.”
Lindsey didn’t say a word. She waited quietly and let him sift through what he remembered. It was excruciating to resist the urge to pepper him with questions, but she knew he would have an easier time if she didn’t heckle him.
“One of the teachers stayed with Liza while the principal called Larry,” Sully said. “He was opening a new store down in Virginia, so it wasn’t like he could race home. Liza ended up being collected by the housekeeper, who had not seen Sarah all day. In fact, no one had seen her that day. She dropped off Liza at school that morning and vanished.”
“Oh, poor Liza,” Lindsey said. “She was just a kid. That had to have been devastating.”
Sully nodded. “I could call my mom for more specifics if you want.”
Lindsey appreciated the gesture, but she suspected from his reluctant tone that he really didn’t want her to dig into the disappearance of Sarah Milstein any more than she already had. Still, she had to wonder out loud.
“Do you think Theresa knows about this, and if so, do you suppose she’s worried that whatever happened to Sarah Milstein is about to happen to her, too?”
“Maybe, but she’s not even married to Larry yet,” Sully said. “If it was foul play that got Sarah, wouldn’t the person—assuming it’s the same person—who made Sarah vanish wait until Theresa was Mrs. Milstein?”
“I suppose that depends upon what the gains would be to have Theresa gone—say, a life insurance policy taken out on her, for instance.”
Sully’s eyebrows went up, and Lindsey nodded.
“Theresa told me Larry hired the Norrgard brothers as bodyguards to keep her safe because he said he had no interest in collecting on the life insurance policy he’d taken out on her when they got engaged.”
“Weird. Does she believe him?”
“She seems to.”
“Are you going to tell Emma?” he asked.
“Robbie is,” she said. “I wonder if there was an insurance policy on Sarah Milstein.”
“I’m sure there must have been, but I doubt he collected it, since her body has never been found,” Sully said. “I’m not even sure he’s had her declared dead yet.”
“Wouldn’t he have to if he’s planning to remarry?”
They exchanged a look. This was one more thing to mention to Emma.
“So, from what you know of the two situations, do you think they’re connected?” Lindsey asked.
Sully shrugged. “I think it’s an awful coincidence that both Larry’s wife and now his intended have had suspicious things happen to them. But given that we don’t know what happened to Sarah Milstein for sure, how can we determine if there’s a connection, especially when Sarah went missing but Theresa seems to be blatantly under attack?”
“True, that is different, but we also don’t know whether Sarah Milstein had weird things happening to her before she vanished. So what you’re saying is we need to find out what happened to Sarah Milstein,” she said.
Sully shook his head and waved his hands in a no no no gesture, but it was too late. Lindsey knew that this was exactly what they needed to do.