"Margaret, your father wasn't there that day, honey. Don't you remember, he was in Chicago and didn't make it home?" Hannah asked.

Maggie frowned at her. "Of course it was Father." She looked around the room, confused. "It was a long time ago. But, who took the picture?" She looked at Hannah.

"It was your uncle, sweetie. He and I were standing by the sh.o.r.e remember? And he said Miranda looked beautiful and took the picture."

I sat there for a moment and looked at Teri. I could tell by her look she was thinking of something.

"Do you have a picture of your dad?" I asked casually.

Maggie seemed confused as she leafed through the pages and I looked at a man who was handsome, tall with lighter colored hair than Maggie. He looked... I don't know. I couldn't put my finger on it. There was a family resemblance between him and Nathan and Hannah.

I leafed through the pages. There were pictures of all family members: Charlie and Maggie when they were kids, the aunts and uncles, mothers and fathers as grown-ups and when they were younger.

Then I recognized the picture of Nathan. He sat with Maggie on his knee; they were smiling at each other.

"This was the picture of the two of them in the locket," I said and looked at Maggie. "When was this picture taken?"

Maggie looked at the picture. "I was six I think. It was a party like this. I used to love to sit on Uncle Nathan's lap. Doc too, I felt safe. Like a grandfather, you know?" She looked at me and Teri with tears in her eyes, and Teri smiled at her affectionately and nodded.

"The same year you planted the hyacinth?" I asked.

Maggie thought for a moment. "Yes, I think it was."

Something was here-this was a piece of the puzzle, I could feel it.

They sat in silence. I looked at all the photos in the alb.u.m; I leafed through them, back and forth.

As a photographer, I don't think of the people in the picture but, instead, of who was taking the picture. All of the pictures of Maggie had Nathan or Hannah in them. I never saw her sitting on her father's lap. I never saw Miranda with Jonathan. Never saw the three of them together, happy and smiling, as Maggie was when she was sitting on her uncle's or Doc's lap. Who was taking these pictures? I could only think of Miranda taking pictures of the people she loved.

I knew what a photograph was worth; it stopped time. For an instant, it made the impossible, possible. Take a moment and freeze it in time. Take a picture of the man you love, with your daughter on his knee and put it forever in a locket, wear it around your neck and close to your heart.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Too many loose ends, I thought. I needed a common thread to pull it together. Then I remembered my common thread was all the secrets in the Winfield family.

Poor Hannah was still looking a little frazzled over the picture of Miranda.

"So, you think Miranda was in the woods?" she asked staring out the window.

"I wasn't completely sure until I saw that picture. Now, yes Hannah, I do," I said gently. I reached over and held her hand tight for a moment.

"I think I feel good that she is here, looking out for Maggie," Hannah said.

All at once, she started crying. Maggie put her arm around her and they both quietly cried for a minute or two. These Winfield women can turn on the water works. I handed each of them a napkin.

I looked at Teri and she, too, had tears in her eyes. Soon we were all sitting there either crying or tearing.

I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes. "Okay, if we don't quit, we'll flood the kitchen."

We all laughed and took a few deep breaths. We all noticed the fragrance of hyacinth fading. I got a little sad, it was comforting, in a way. In another way, it scared the c.r.a.p out of me.

"Well, let's go to bed, for heaven's sake." Hannah got up slowly. She looked exhausted.

It was almost two in the morning and I was more tired than I thought. My shoulder ached wildly and, when I yawned, I thought my jaw would crack.

"Kate you looked absolutely done in. Go to bed. Goodnight," Hannah ordered.

"I'm going to check the doors and windows," I said and Teri and Maggie followed me. "I'm just going to check the cellar door. I'll be right back."

"Oh no, you don't. I'm coming too," Maggie said and I grunted.

Teri declined graciously and went off the bed. As she was leaving, she gave me that look again and I nodded my understanding. I'd see her before I went to bed.

Maggie followed me down the cellar stairs.

It was a bit creepy. I didn't like cellars. As we descended into the darkness, the musty, damp smell transported me back to that other dark cellar years ago. I begged the G.o.ds above as I desperately fought the vision and the wave of nausea that always accompanied it.

Lying face down in a pool of blood, I couldn't move. Through my haze, I heard gunshots. I opened my eyes to see her lying beside me, a mirror image; her lifeless eyes staring at me as if looking into my soul.

I stopped and ran my hand across my eyes. The vision, having it done its damage, vanished. I stood at the bottom of the stairs and realized Maggie was holding the back of my shirt.

"Okay, all clear, let's go," she said in a hurry.

"Will you let go of my shirt? You're panicking me, woman." I slapped at her hand. "Let me check the door, then we're done."

I walked up the four or five steps to the cellar door and gave it a confident tug. To my surprise and horror, the latch was open, the door was unlocked, and it flew open and out of my hand.

Maggie suppressed a scream. I did not.

I pulled the door closed, slammed the latch and shivered violently. "Dammit, who the h.e.l.l opened that door? Did the caterers have to use this door at all?"

"No, no reason for them to use it," Maggie said, shaking her head quickly.

"What happened when you and Allison came down here?"

"Just what do you mean?" She frowned indignantly.

"Did you leave her alone down here at all?"

"Oh. No, we picked up four or five bottles of wine and we left, together," she said.

"Well, it's locked now. Let's go to bed. This place gives me the creeps."

Still unnerved about the cellar door, I rechecked all the doors and windows downstairs. I left a small light on in the kitchen and another in the living room. Maggie followed me around like a shadow.

"Good grief child, go to bed."

"Don't call me a child and I'm not leaving you down here alone. You'll probably trip over something and break a leg." She smiled sweetly.

"Very amusing, I see you've been talking to Teri. I knew it was a mistake to bring them here."

"Well, we did have a very pleasant talk this evening."

"Really? About what?" I asked absently. I stole a glance her way then checked the French doors.

"Nothing. Just that she and Mac love you and they think you spend too much time alone at this log cabin you keep talking about," she said casually. "You must like your solitude."

Mental note: Strangle sister. "There's a lot to be said for being a recluse."

"She also said you were reticent."

"There's a lot to be said for that, too. Now, you missed your calling. You should have been a psychiatrist. I could have used you a few years ago."

"I wish I knew you then," Maggie said quietly and walked upstairs, leaving me with nothing to do but follow her.

I stood in the doorway of my room and saw my faithful cur, sound asleep on my bed. Chance lifted her head and let out a yawn.

"Oh, go back to sleep, you lazy mutt."

We stopped at Maggie's door. "I'd like to check you room, if you don't mind."

"No, help yourself." She opened her door and I went in and checked the closet and windows, then the bathroom.

"All clear?" She smiled.

"Go to bed. Goodnight," I said lazily and yawned.

"You need a good night's sleep, Kate."

"No, I am not taking any more witches' brew."

For an instant, we stood there looking at each other. I found myself mesmerized as I looked down into her blue eyes; they sparkled wildly. Then I stepped back into the hall.

"Well, um, have a good sleep," I said.

"Good night," she said and closed her door.

I walked over and knocked on Teri's door. She immediately opened it and I jumped. Teri laughed as she pulled me inside.

"Okay, I saw the look. What the heck do you want, ya blabbermouth?"

"Blabbermouth? Oh, you mean Maggie?" She waved impatiently. "Forget that. Now, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I don't know. What are you thinking? I'm so afraid to ask."

"Well, weren't you thinking about the picture of Nathan and Maggie? I think Miranda was in love with Nathan, that's why his picture was in her locket."

"Of course that's why it was in her locket. Everybody is afraid to say it. Jonathan sounds like a heel and from what I can gather, Nathan and Miranda got on pretty well," I said, yawning. "What was that with the hyacinth? I gotta tell you that spooked me bad."

"I know, but it happened. I never thought I would experience it. Did you feel like she was in the room?" she asked eagerly.

"Honestly, no. However, don't go by me. You're more in tune with that sort of thing than I am. G.o.d Teri, I'm glad you two are here." I shivered. "What if this isn't a good thing? What if it's not Miranda? Remember the movie The Uninvited? There were two spirits and one was not friendly."

"Go to bed before you scare yourself," my dear sister said. "Hey, do you think maybe Nathan was in love with her and then stabbed her to death because she wouldn't leave Jonathan? Then he tossed her body in the lake? Or maybe Jonathan found out and killed her, leaving her there, dead. Don't you think someone would have said this before? I mean isn't it kind of obvious?"

"I think it's glaringly obvious, but, as I said, this family is chock-full of secrets. And who in the h.e.l.l would want to admit their uncle, father or brother, was an adulterer or murderer? Now, on that peaceful note, I bid you pleasant slumber, ya blabbermouth."

Sleep was impossible. My mind was all over the place with this mess. On top of that, Maggie's face kept flashing in front of me. I took the pillow and held it across my face and let out a m.u.f.fled scream.

Suddenly, Chance jumped off the bed and barked at the window. "Shhh, you'll wake up everybody. What's the matter, girl?" I asked and ran to the window.

Out in the late moonlight, I saw nothing, but then I heard it. A banging noise outside, that sounded like something hitting the side of the house. s.h.i.t, now what?

I slipped into my clothes and walked out into the hall.

Maggie greeted me. She pulled her robe around her. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes, stay here."

"No way," she said firmly.

The coward, Chance, retreated to the bedroom as we headed down stairs. I heard it again. It sounded like someone wanted to get in and it was coming from that d.a.m.ned cellar.

"Look, I don't know why you won't stay put. I'm going to..." A loud banging noise interrupted me. Maggie looked at me and grabbed my arm.

"It's the cellar door," she said in a terrified whisper.

"Stay here," I said as I started through the kitchen.

All the lights were out except a small light over the stove. I stopped and Maggie b.u.mped right into me. I jumped and turned around.

"s.h.i.t. Stay here," I whispered again.

We both jumped when Mac came into the kitchen.

"What's..." he started to say, while rubbing his head.

I put my fingers up to my lips to quiet him.

"What are you two doing up this late?" he whispered with a smile. "Shame, shame. I'm telling Aunt Hannah."

I gave him an exasperated look. "Mac, I think someone is trying to get into the cellar."

His smile faded quickly. "Are you sure?" We heard to door bang again. His eyes widened.

"Is the door locked?" he asked and I nodded.

I started for the door to the cellar.

"You're not going down there again," Maggie whispered vehemently and grabbed my arm.