His lie coiled in the room like a rattlesnake. Pressing her hand to her throbbing temple, she bit back the angry words on her tongue. "Why now? Why try to have a relationship with me now?"

"I shouldn't have cut you off, Kate. I'm sorry for that. But let's not upset Claire and Lisa over my shortcomings. This is between you and me, not them."

Kate's eyes stung at the way her mother moved beside him in a solidarity stance. She wouldn't cry, not in front of him. "What's your precious Claire been through? I bet it's nothing like what I've endured growing up fatherless and thrown away like some piece of trash. And when I got sick, you never even-" She looked away.

"I didn't know you were sick. You seem fine now, healthy and strong."

She opted not to answer that. He wouldn't care anyway. "You never even sent a birthday card. It was like I didn't exist."

He glanced at her mother again. "We thought it best for me to stay away."

Kate gasped and studied her mother who wasn't refuting his statement. "You agreed he shouldn't see me anymore? You wanted the money, and it didn't matter how it affected me, right?"

She was done with them both. Neither of them had given any thought to how this transaction might affect her. "It would serve you both right if I got in the car now and drove straight to the hotel to tell Claire the truth. I doubt she would be as approving of your neglect as you are."

He held out his hand toward her. "Please don't do that. I know I've been a lousy father, but there's no reason to ruin my wife's and daughter's lives because of it. Think about someone besides yourself."

She wanted to hit him. "I've done that all my life. You'd know that if you'd ever been around."

Was he right? Would knowing the truth hurt Claire? Kate didn't want to bring her pain, but she'd understood her half sister's longing for more family. Wouldn't the news come as a wonderful surprise?

Her mother touched his arm. "Let's all sit down and have some breakfast. We can discuss this as adults."

He shook off her touch. "I've said all I came to say. I can't change the past, Kate. Just stay away from Claire and Lisa."

His peremptory tone stiffened her spine again. "I'll give you forty-eight hours to tell Claire and your wife yourself. If you don't confess, I'll tell Claire the truth. I think she'll believe me."

She didn't tell either of them she feared the frequent weak spells she'd had lately meant she needed her sister's help more than ever. Tomorrow's appointment would tell her for sure.

The sun beat down in an unseasonably warm day, and vultures swooped in the blue sky over the woods where Luke stood watching the events unfold. Circles of sweat stained the shirts of the diggers bending to their task in the ditch. It had only been a week ago tonight since Luke had stood in this old field and looked down on his mother's remains. Who else had died here, or had they found more of his mother's bones?

His expression somber, Beau approached Luke. "Sorry to put you through this again."

"More of Mom's bones? At least we'll have them all for the memorial service."

Beau shuffled his boots in the freshly turned dirt. "Can't really tell yet. The coroner just got here, and we should know more soon."

Luke frowned at the way Beau seemed way more interested in checking out the dirt. Why wasn't he talking? "Looked like quite a few bones from what I could tell."

Beau didn't reply. He stood off from Luke a few feet with his hands thrust in his khaki slacks and his expression carefully blank. The coroner gestured for the sheriff to join her. Beau started forward too, and Luke found himself walking quickly through the weeds and scrubs toward the men cl.u.s.tered around the coroner, Genevieve Ross, who huddled protectively over the pile of bones.

Genevieve had been coroner for as long as Luke could remember. She had to be in her seventies by now, but she walked the rolling hills with as much grace as a thirty-year-old.

Beau turned and frowned. "You'd better stay back, Luke."

Luke folded his arms across his chest. "This is Rocco land, Beau. I'm staying unless you want to arrest me."

His old friend heaved a sigh. "Keep your mouth shut or the sheriff just might do that."

Luke craned his head over the top of Beau's shoulder and didn't answer. The scent of freshly upturned soil hung in the air. Genevieve was saying something, but he couldn't make out the words. He edged closer and let his gaze sweep over the scene. Her iron-gray hair hung down her back. Flecks of mud marred her navy slacks, and she used a latex-gloved hand to push her gla.s.ses up on her nose. She'd quit talking by the time Luke got close enough to hear.

"So you're saying these are definitely not the remains of Victoria Rocco?" the sheriff asked.

"That's right." Genevieve reached down and retrieved a long, thin bone. "This femur belongs to a child of three to five. The remains are clearly not those of an adult woman. There is long blond hair attached to the small skull as well, so I believe this is the body of a little girl."

Oh no. Luke took a step back at the thought of a child being found here. A distressed murmur raced through the group a.s.sembled there. No one liked to think about a child lying undiscovered out here.

The bones looked pitiful in the dirt. Poor little thing. "How long has she been dead?" The words were out of Luke's mouth before he could hold them in.

Danny turned at the sound of Luke's voice. "I told you to stay back." His voice vibrated with displeasure.

Luke ignored him and stepped closer to Genevieve. "How long ago did she die? Can you tell how she died?"

"I'll need to run more tests when I get the remains back to the morgue, but it's been at least a couple of years since there's no flesh on the bones."

Luke couldn't recall a search for a missing child in recent memory. He only prayed they would figure out who the girl belonged to and give her family the same closure he'd felt yesterday when he'd heard the confirmation that they'd found his mother.

One of the deputies called out from ten feet away, "I found some clothing sc.r.a.ps." The man carried a paper bag to the coroner, and she took it with eagerness and reached inside. She brought out a sc.r.a.p of pink fabric. "Looks like a bit of a dress with some lace."

Pink with lace. Where had he heard of a little girl wearing a lacy pink dress? Then it hit him. When Claire went missing, she'd been wearing a pink dress, but that had been twenty-five years ago. These remains were newer than that, weren't they?

He looked at the coroner. "What's the oldest they could be?"

She shrugged. "Could be decades. It's hard to say. Do you have an idea who it might be?"

Luke glanced from her to Danny. An awful suspicion began to take hold. "Anything else in there?"

"This was lying near the body." Genevieve held out a small locket in her latex-covered palm.

"Did you open it?"

"Not yet." She scowled over it. "I'll need to pry it open back in the lab, but there are initials engraved on the back: CD."

Claire Dellamare. What had happened the night Claire went missing? Had there been some other little girl who disappeared too? And if so, how had she gotten Claire's locket? Maybe the two little girls had been together.

Danny's brow furrowed, then his expression finally cleared. "I think we shouldn't say anything about this until we find out more about what happened, Luke. Agreed?"

Luke's chest squeezed. "Agreed."

If Claire had been upset about her missing year before, how was she going to feel when she found out another little girl had been missing that night too? And she hadn't made it home like Claire. Was there a monster preying on children in these peaceful fields?

TWENTY-FIVE.

Friday afternoon Claire hurried across the pink-granite rocks toward where Luke waited for her. The puffs of clouds floating lazily across the blue sky eased the tension from her as she waded into the cold water of the orca's pen with a pail of fish in her hand. She slapped the water to call him, and he zipped quickly over to nudge her hand before doing flips in the water as if to coax Claire to feed him. She laughed and tossed him his lunch.

Luke moved her way down the pier, then sat on the side and dangled his legs over the edge. "How'd the talk go with Francisca?"

"She is in favor of the merger, and she's going to talk to her family. I'm not sure she can convince them, though."

"You don't sound upset about it."

The cold water numbed her legs. "I'm not. We'll manage one way or the other."

The fish were gone in minutes, and she rinsed her hands in the cold salt water. "I'm all out of food, little man."

Luke jumped over the side of the pier into the water and smacked his hand in the water, then shot a splash her way. "I don't think he believes you."

The shock of cold water made her laugh harder. She splashed him back, then tried to run as he approached threateningly. She was giggling so hard that her right foot slipped on a wet rock and her head went under. The next thing she knew, a wave grabbed her and tossed her to the bottom. A hand grabbed the back of her blouse and yanked her up. She came up gasping for air and found herself clasped tightly against Luke's broad chest. He made no sudden move to release her.

She looked at her fists, tightly bunched in his wet shirt. She really should let him go, but she couldn't seem to force her fingers to release their grip. His hands, the fingers splayed to cover the most area possible, spanned her waist and held her securely. The scent of his skin mingled with that of the sea, a very enticing aroma. Her gaze went to his mouth, and she wished she dared to run her finger along the outline of those firm lips. Her pulse had never raced like this in her life, had it?

His brown eyes darkened to nearly black, and his grip on her waist tightened as he drew her just a bit closer. His head started down, and her eyes drifted shut as she turned her face up to welcome the kiss she knew was coming.

His lips brushed hers, and she inhaled the masculine scent of his skin. The kiss deepened, and she curled her fists into his shirt.

"Uh, Luke," a male voice said behind her.

His hands released her so quickly she nearly fell back into the waves foaming around her knees. She whipped around to see the sheriff and Luke's deputy friend standing just out of reach of the waves rolling onto the sand. The sheriff's eyes narrowed as he looked her over, and her face flamed. He'd seen them kissing.

His gaze was cold, and she could have sworn she saw deep suspicion and distrust. She'd liked the sheriff until now, so his manner made her stumble as she exited the water and reached for the towel she'd left on the sand.

"We'd like to speak with you, Ms. Dellamare." A steel undertone layered his formal request.

She wiped off her face and hair. "Of course. Is it about Jenny?" The cool breeze touched her chilled skin, and she shivered, then draped the towel around her shoulders.

Luke's warm fingers pressed into the flesh at her elbow, and she took comfort from his touch of courage. Something was very wrong, and she gripped her hands together as she waited for Sheriff Colton to tell her why his hazel eyes were so cold and why his manner was so stiff.

She sidled a step closer to Luke. "What's wrong, Sheriff?"

He glanced at Luke. "Did you tell her what we found yesterday?"

Luke knew about this? Claire slanted a glance up at Luke who was shaking his head. "Luke? What's he talking about?"

"I didn't know much, Danny, so of course I didn't say anything. I a.s.sume you're here because you know more." Luke heaved a sigh and ran his hand through his damp hair. His fingers tightened on her arm, and his eyes held compa.s.sion. "There was another body found on my land yesterday."

Another body? She took a step back. "Oh no. Do you know who it is?"

"I'll have to let Danny explain himself because I'm not sure," Luke said.

The sheriff shuffled closer, his black shoes just inches from the water. "I thought I'd have to wait on DNA results for the body, but we got an immediate match on dental records. I couldn't believe it, so I rechecked it myself and spoke to the dentist where we obtained the records. There's no doubt on the child's ident.i.ty. The locket helped too. I'm going to run DNA, just because it involves Dellamare, but I'm sure."

"Child?" Claire leaned against Luke, and his hand left her elbow and went to her waist as he pulled her closer into his side. "Locket?"

The sheriff nodded. "A four-year-old child, to be precise, Ms. Dellamare. We also found sc.r.a.ps of a lacy pink dress. The little girl had blond hair."

A child the same age she'd been when she wandered off. Was there some kind of serial killer out there? And even if there was, why were the sheriff and his deputy staring at her like she might change into an alien at any moment? Nothing about this situation seemed to concern her, and certainly it shouldn't have lodged such suspicion in their eyes. Surely they didn't think she'd killed the child?

Her mind raced in a thousand directions and landed nowhere that made sense. "Who is the child?"

"The locket held a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Dellamare. It was engraved on the back with the letters CD. The little girl has been identified as Claire Dellamare. She just had a dental appointment before her birthday when she chipped a tooth."

Claire held up her hand. "Wait, that can't be true. I'm Claire Dellamare. There can't be two of us." What did this mean? She couldn't process it.

"Precisely, Ms. Whoever-You-Are. I can't call you Claire Dellamare because we have no idea who you are or who told the Dellamares that you were Claire." The sheriff leaned closer, and his minty breath washed over her face. "I'll tell you what I think. I believe Jenny figured this out, and you killed her to stop her from spilling the beans."

Luke's fingers tightened around her waist. "Come on, Danny! Whatever happened, Claire had nothing to do with it. Can't you see how shocked she is at this news? Heck, I'm shocked. I mean, I knew you'd found a child, but I a.s.sumed some other little girl was missing at the same time."

"She's a good actress." The sheriff clenched his fists. "I'm going to be digging into this, and I'll find out who she's been in contact with from here. Because this didn't happen by itself with no intervention."

The roaring in her ears increased to a deafening sound that blocked out all reason and thought. Not Claire Dellamare.

Luke touched her arm. "Claire?"

Leaning into Luke's strength, she managed to hold up her head and face the sheriff's derision. "I think we'd better talk to my parents."

The familiar smell of doctor's office antiseptic and new carpet enveloped Kate like a forgotten memory. She flipped through a Cosmopolitan but didn't really see the words fluttering by. Her mother was engrossed in a conversation with a bald little boy of about two who had brought his tractor to show off.

Kate watched them a moment. Had her mother ever shown her that much attention as a child? If so, she didn't remember it. Her childhood had been spent in the blueberry barrens, and her uncle Paul had been more of a parent than her mother. But since she'd gotten sick, her mom had changed.

Kate shot to her feet when the nurse called her name and hurried across the brown carpet to follow the white-clad uniform to the first door on the right. Her mother followed them and went to her spot in an upholstered chair in the corner. Kate settled on the examination table. The white paper crinkled as she shifted to submit to a blood pressure check.

The nurse raised her brow. "Up a little, Kate. One fifty over ninety."

Kate managed a smile. "White-coat syndrome."

Seascapes decorated the brown tweed walls, and she concentrated on the impossibly white sails of a large ship. From the rocks and landscape, she recognized the location as Acadia, one of her favorite places. She avoided looking at her mother. They both feared what the doctor would say. The lurid bruises on Kate's arms and shins told a grim story.

The door opened, and Dr. Bain stepped inside. A tall, handsome man in his fifties, he wore a kind manner like a favorite shirt. "Ah, my favorite patient. How are you doing today, Kate?" His voice was a pleasant rumble.

"Okay."

He stepped to her side and tilted her chin up, looking her in the eyes. "Lots of fatigue?"

She nodded. "And bruises." She showed him her legs and arms. "The news is bad, isn't it?"

He settled on the stainless steel stool at his small desk and flipped open her chart. "Hmm." Flipping through several pages, he read each one, then closed the chart. "This latest drug isn't working."

Kate's stomach clenched, though she'd been expecting it. The telltale fatigue. "I could have told you that without all the tests. Now what?"

He glanced at her mother. "How are you holding up, Mary?"