Officer Helga van Hest possessed the same calm efficiency as her grandmother, and Teddy liked and trusted her right away. Helga had strawberry-blond hair that she wore in a no-nonsense chignon, and was a taller, slenderer, and more elegant version of her grandmother. Her blue and gray police uniform was starched crisp, and her fingernails were short and painted with a clear gloss. Teddy approved of the fact that Helga, who had a pretty oval face and intelligent hazel eyes, didn’t completely disdain her femininity, and wore pale pink lipstick and small gold studs in her ears.

Not that Teddy didn’t like or trust Captain Longbow—she absolutely did—but when Helga insisted on taking over from her boss’s hunting and pecking on the computer keyboard in order to print out the form for the incident report, Teddy cheered inside.

This was after the police chief had struggled for five minutes to find the right file to open, because for some reason, his computer had become disconnected from the network. And then to figure out how to unjam the printer’s paper feed. And all that was after he couldn’t get the computer mouse to work for some inexplicable reason.

“He’s a damned good cop and an excellent police chief,” Helga confided to Teddy, “but the chief’s a walking time bomb when it comes to anything electronic. All he has to do is get in the vicinity of anything computerized and it goes berserk. I think it’s his aura or something—there’s no other explanation for it. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even let him into the break room, because that’s where we keep the fax machine. Once, he stopped in the doorway and the machine just went bonkers. And no one was using it.”

Oscar showed Joe and Helga the rubber glove with the paint on it, and Teddy told them about the footprints by the side of the cottage and the mark of a boat’s keel on the beach. “Oscar took pictures because by now, the rain will have washed all the prints away,” she said.

Joe reached for Oscar’s phone, but Helga gave him an arch look and intercepted it. “Best not to let the chief touch it,” she said. “He could delete the entire contents without pressing a button.”

“Now, Helga,” Joe said. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

She lifted a perfectly arched sandy-brown brow. “Might I remind you of the time you merely cut the tape on the box with your new, fully loaded computer tablet?”

The chief pursed his lips and changed the subject. “Oscar, I wanted you to know the USCG is looking into what you saw out there—the blue and green boat with the men dropping something over the side. So far they haven’t found anything, but they’re still looking. I’ve also got Helga asking around about a boat that meets your description at any of the local marinas.”

“So far, nothing, but I’m going to call the sheriff’s office and put the word out there,” said Helga as she slid the incident report in front of Teddy. “You can sign on the bottom here, and Dr. London, I’ll have a copy of your statement printed off in just a second… Cap, how about stepping out of the room for a few? Give the machine a break from your aura?”

Joe grumbled, but rose from a tweed office chair that looked older than he was. “I’ll send this off to the lab to see if they can raise any fingerprints on it,” he said, holding up the plastic bag with the paint-streaked glove. “But this is little Wicks Hollow, not Chicago or New York, or even Grand Rapids. We aren’t going to hear back on this for a good while.”

“That’s right,” Helga said, grimacing a little. “I got spoiled working in Chicago, but unless there’s a homicide to light a fire under their behinds, the lab doesn’t see any reason to get on our stuff.”

“Last fall when Baxter James found Marcus Levin—poor man got clubbed with his own five iron—the lab got on things pretty quick,” Joe said in his easy voice.

“Well, I’m not really holding out for a homicide on this case,” Oscar said firmly. “A break-in is plenty enough to deal with. Teddy, are you ready? We’ve got to get you a new computer.”

They drove to Grand Rapids, which was about an hour away and the biggest city near Wicks Hollow, to get her a new laptop.

“Thank goodness I have the flash drive,” she said more than once, and dug in her purse to check that it was still there at least three times. “I’m glad your laptop wasn’t destroyed.”

“Same here, but at least my work is easy,” Oscar said dryly. “Just throw a few things on a plate and stick it under the microscope and my work is done.”

Teddy laughed. “I’m sorry—that was my neurotic-writer-on-deadline personality talking when I said that.”

“I figured.” He reached over and curled his grip over her hand, and they drove the rest of the way back to the cottage with their fingers entwined.

It was dark by then, and Teddy was aware of her body tensing with apprehension as they drove over the bridge to the postage-stamp island. What would they find this time?

But the cottage sat, seemingly undisturbed, with the lights they’d left on burning in the windows. As she climbed out of the Jeep, Teddy couldn’t help looking up at the lighthouse, which rose over them like a forbidding dark tower.

“Tomorrow, we’re going back up there. To the top of the lighthouse. We have to,” she said, when she felt him ready to protest. “We haven’t been up there since that first night.”

“All right,” he said, fitting the key to the lock.

They curled up on the sofa in the living room, which had been cleared of what was left of his lab equipment, and, at her insistence, streamed a few episodes of The Big Bang Theory via his Wi-Fi hub.

“We need something light and airy,” she said.

He seemed to understand that she was apprehensive, and instead of making any seductive moves—which, she allowed, wouldn’t have been rebuffed by her—he just tucked her under his arm on the sofa and stroked her hair as they watched.

Eventually, she fell into a deep sleep, slumped on the couch until the nightly scream startled them both awake.

“Back on time,” she muttered, looking at the clock. “One thirty, on the nose. Bastard.”

And then, knowing she was safe, and feeling cherished, she followed him back to his bedroom to curl up on the bed next to him.

The next morning, Teddy woke first. Still fully clothed in the boxers and tee she’d put on for the television show, she had a moment of regret that that was the case. But last night would not have been the right time to act on her increasing attraction and affection for Oscar.

Having the ugliness and uncertainty hanging over them would have marred what she expected—anticipated—would be a delightful Mutually Enjoyable Night.

And she appreciated that Oscar seemed to sense that as well. That was, she realized, one of the reasons she was really falling for him.

Really falling for him.

Like, falling falling for him.

The idea made her a little queasy, but in a hot, happy, electric sort of way. She hadn’t ever felt so comfortable, or so understood by anyone, ever.

He was just so cute. And smart. And kind. And very sexy, with his hair all rumpled and his face creased from sleep. The dark blue tee he wore clung to strong, square shoulders, and gapped a little to expose a bit of collarbone and the patch of hair that grew on his chest.

Looking down at the coppery stubble that had sprung up overnight along his jaw, she couldn’t resist leaning over to nibble his lips. And then to fully cover his mouth carefully, softly, with hers.

She felt his breathing change, the slight shift in his body when he awoke, and then he was kissing her back as one arm lazily slid around her to pull her up close against him.

“Mmm,” he said, burying his face in her hair. “You smell as good as you feel, lying here next to me.”

She rolled over on top of him, one leg sliding between his as she pulled his face back to hers. A curtain of her hair fell over their faces, and he gently brushed it away as his other hand slid down to cover her butt.

“You have,” he said, then kissed the corner of her mouth, “the sexiest rear end I’ve ever seen.” He gently patted it. “I’ve been dying to get my hands on it ever since the first time I saw you in the hot spring pool.”

“Well then, Dr. London,” she said, low in her throat, “what are you waiting for? Get your hands on it.”

He laughed against her mouth and slid both hands down to cover her butt as she arched down into him and his very awake erection. “Mmm,” she murmured. “Someone’s up.”

“I’ll say.” With a quick movement, he flipped them over, her hair and the blanket tangling them up awkwardly and a little painfully (on her end).

Teddy began to laugh as they tried to extricate themselves without pulling out her hair or falling off the bed, and they were just getting back to business when he froze and lifted his head as if to listen.

“No,” he said, falling back on the pillow and pulling her with him. “I refuse to hear that.”

But Teddy had heard the car drive up, and, laughing again, she pulled out of his gentle grip. “It might be Declan.”

“So? He’ll understand. He’s a guy.”

“Or the police,” she said, teasingly avoiding his reach. “It could be Joe Cap.”

“He’s a guy—he’ll understand too.” Oscar reached for her, but she danced away, noticing with pleasure how his eyes followed her.

But it was neither Joe Cap nor Declan—nor anyone of the male persuasion.

“Oh, shit,” Teddy said when she saw who was getting out of the powder-blue Cadillac SUV. “It’s Maxine. And Juanita. And Iva.”

That got Oscar popping up out of the bed, his eyes wide. “No way. What time is it? What in the hell are they doing here?”

He was frantically looking for appropriate articles of clothing when she slipped from the bedroom and made a mad dash through the cottage to the other side—where her clothes were. She was not answering the door in her boxers and tee, especially after all the discussion about jumping bones from the day before.

She heard the peremptory knocking on the front door just as she yanked a sports bra into place, but ignored it. Oscar was closer, plus he’d had the proximity of clothing, and so was probably already dressed.

In fact, she took her time—pinning up her hair, brushing her teeth, and finally coming out to save Oscar after she decided on a happy yellow sundress that she knew looked particularly good on her. She even checked out her too-big butt in the mirror.

But hey, if Oscar thought it looked good, then that was fine with her. With a smile and a hope for good things to come, she left her room.

“Good morning, ladies,” she said when she joined them in the living room. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“We brought Sunday Morning Scones,” Iva said, offering a paper sack. “From Orbra’s.”

“It’s a bribe,” Maxine said in a stage whisper as Oscar took the bag. “She wants to see your ghost.”

And that was how it turned out that a whole stampede of them—Maxine, Iva, Teddy, and Oscar—began to clamber up the steps to the top of the lighthouse. Juanita and Bruce Banner elected to stay on the ground level so he could investigate the grounds—and so his mistress could sample the scones. She also offered to make coffee for everyone, and no one argued with that idea.

Maxine led the way up the one hundred and sixty-eight stairs with more speed and efficiency than Teddy had anticipated. That wasn’t to say the old curmudgeon sped up them, but she kept her pace steady and smooth.

It was during the climb that Teddy concluded Maxine didn’t actually need her walking stick for ambulation purposes.

When they reached the top, Oscar thoughtfully eased ahead of the troop of females and pushed open the door to the lantern room so the bats could escape before anyone set foot inside.

“What a gorgeous view,” Iva said, slipping past Maxine to be the first to walk in. “Now, show me exactly where you saw the Ghostly Presence.” Her cornflower eyes were lit up like stars, and Teddy couldn’t help but share her enthusiasm.

It was a lot less creepy up here in the middle of the day, with the morning sun streaming and the sky cerulean and cloudless.

“All right,” Teddy said, leading Iva out onto the open gallery. A breeze blew in from the lake, and Teddy paused just to inhale the fresh scent. Then she showed Iva exactly where they’d been standing when the door blew closed.

“Now,” said Iva. “Do you remember what you were doing at that time? You’d already been up here for a few minutes, correct? And then suddenly the door slammed shut. I suspect it might have been a reaction to something you said or did—for there was no other warning, was there?”

“I thought the same thing,” Teddy replied. “And it makes sense, because we were talking about Stuart Millore falling or jumping from up here, and I said, ‘maybe he was pushed,’ and that was when the door slammed closed.”

“Exactly what I suspected,” Iva said gleefully. “It sounds to me like the Ghostly Presence was trying to get your attention—to emphasize what you’d just said. To confirm it, so to speak. Then what happened?”

As she explained how they couldn’t open the door, Teddy noticed that Maxine and Oscar had not joined them on the exterior walkway. Instead, they had their heads together—one iron-gray one, one of fiery copper—and were looking down into the base of the huge, reflective prisms. They seemed to be having an intense conversation, complete with hand gestures and emphatic motions.

“So you couldn’t get the door open,” Iva said. “What happened after that?”

“We just…waited. Sat down and tried to figure out what to do, and to wait it out. I fell asleep, eventually,” Teddy said, “and then I remember waking up suddenly because it was so cold. Like, I felt as if I’d been plunged into an arctic lake. It was so sudden and such a sharp change in temperature that it woke me.”

Iva was nodding sagely. “Definitely the sign of a supernatural presence—that sudden change in temperature, and with it being so startlingly cold.”

“Right. That’s what I thought. And then I saw the thing. The bluish-green something—whatever it was.”

“Where precisely did you see it? What did it do?”

Teddy surveyed the area carefully before she responded. “All right. The first time, when we were up here, the—well, for lack of a better term—manifestation was right here.”

“So it was standing right next to the door that had slammed shut and inexplicably locked.” Iva made a little humming sound. “Right here?” She bent to examine the area closely.

“Yes. And it just sort of floated there—Oscar said it was algae or some sort of moss that might have blown up from the lake or something, but it wasn’t. I could tell. It was…amorphous. You could see it billowing and blowing like a cloud.”

“Did it take any sort of shape? Or did it stay sort of permeable?”

Teddy shook her head. “It seemed like it wanted to take some sort of shape. Like it was fighting to become taller and slenderer, and I thought at one point I saw something that looked like a limb—but it was so startling, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. And then it just rose a little bit, floated, then dove off the walkway here—and down. And then it was gone.”

Iva was watching her with wise, excited eyes. “The ghostly presence was showing you what happened. That person—it had to be Stuart Millore. Stuart, if you’re here, give us a sign,” Iva called out.

Teddy waited, butterflies in her stomach, her hair blowing in the breeze, but nothing happened.

“He’s probably still rather weak yet,” Iva told her calmly. “If he didn’t take any particular form, he may not have the strength to appear at will.”

“Right. But I didn’t tell you about the scream.”

“Yes, yes, that’s right. The scream—the one that comes every night. So that came from the Ghostly Manifestation?”

“Well, yes, of course. I mean, where else would it come from? I just know the sound filled my ears. It was awful. Just bloodcurdling. And then, once it was over, Oscar noticed that the door was ajar. The one that we’d been unable to open. It was just…ajar.” Teddy grimaced a little, remembering how horribly eerie that moment had been, and how she’d put all thoughts of it away to deal with later—after she’d finished her book.

And so now here she was.

“So the scream came during the manifestation? Or after it disappeared?”

“Well, hmm. It all happened very quickly, but I think it was after it went over the side of the railing and disappeared.”

“Interesting.” Iva walked a little closer to the railing. “And the Ghostly Presence went over about here?”

“Yes, right about there.”

Iva eased back and looked at Teddy. “Well, that is where they found Stuart’s body. Straight down there.” She pointed to the ground below.

Teddy swallowed hard. “All right.”

“Now, when did you notice the temperature going back to normal? Or didn’t it?”

Before Teddy could respond, the gallery door opened and Maxine poked her head out.

“You solve any of it yet, Iva?” she demanded. “Time to get down and have a scone before Neety eats them all. Had to smell them all the way here, and there’s gonna be trouble if they’re gone by the time we get down.”

When Maxine Took spoke of trouble, people listened. And so they started down the stairs, pausing at the landing just below the lantern room where their self-appointed leader gestured at a small door. “That goes to beneath the lantern. For repairs and storage. Probably got bats in there too.”

“Come on, Maxie, get a move on. Now you’ve got me hankering for a scone,” Iva said. “Besides, I want Teddy to show me where they were standing the second time they saw the green ghost. You were on the ground, right?”

“That’s right,” Teddy replied, studiously avoiding looking at Oscar, because she just knew he was rolling his eyes—at least internally.

Back on the ground floor, the group was relieved to discover that Juanita had not only not devoured all of the scones, but she’d set up the table with cups and plates, and had made a fresh pot of coffee. She’d also found Oscar’s Tetley tea bags and had them out for Maxine, who informed Teddy that she never drank coffee.

Bruce Banner, whom Teddy had never seen outside of his carrying bag, was prancing around the table trying to get the attention of anyone who’d give it to him. He bounced around, jumping up as if his rear legs contained springs, looking so cute that Teddy couldn’t keep from petting his soft furry head.

“No scones for Brucie,” Juanita said. “But I’ve got treats in my bag if you want to give him one.”

Teddy obliged the little pooch, then was ushered outside before she even finished her scone to show Iva where they’d been standing when they’d seen the apparition the second time.

“But it happened early that night,” Iva said. “Earlier than usual.”

“Yes, it was closer to ten thirty.”

“Have you seen the apparition every time you heard the scream?”

“Uhm, no,” Teddy replied with a shame-faced smile. “I never looked out the window when I heard the scream. I—I didn’t really want to.”

“Oscar, did you see the ghost on the other nights you heard the scream?” Iva asked.

“Well, I never looked either,” he replied.

“What about the chill? Did you feel that too? No? Well, you must have been too far away if the Ghostly Presence was up on the top of the lighthouse and you were all the way down here.”

“So what’s the diagnosis, Iva?” Juanita said, brushing crumbs daintily from the corners of her mouth.

“Definitely haunted. There’s significant supernatural activity—I can feel it. I suggest,” Iva went on, looking at Teddy and Oscar, “that you spend the night at the top of the lighthouse again—as soon as possible—and see what happens.”

“Yeah, no,” Oscar said flatly.

Teddy looked at him. “But—”

“You can spend the night up there if you like,” he said, patting Iva’s hand. “We’ll even block the door open so you can’t get locked out.”

“Well, now, Oscar, dear, you never struck me as the sort of young man who’d be—shall we say, nervous around a flimsy little ghost,” Iva said, fluttering her eyelashes. “Just like my dear, naive Gideon. He swore there wasn’t any such thing as a ghost until he met it himself, under very extraordinary circumstances.” Iva smiled at him. “You never know, I may just take you up on it, Oscar. Of course, I’d want Hollis to join me—I imagine it’s very romantic up there, watching the sun go down, isn’t it?”

Maxine snorted and rolled her eyes, and that was when Oscar took the bull by the horns, so to speak. “Well, the open-air gallery is available for your camping-out pleasure any time you like, Mrs. Bergstrom. But for now, I’m afraid it’s time for Teddy to get back to the final touches on her book—you know, she’s not really done yet,” he added in a confiding whisper.

The ladies all gasped and gaped at Teddy accusingly.

“But we thought you were—”

“We never would have come by if we knew you—”

“Do you mean it’s not done? That’s false advertising.” Maxine, of course, drowned out everyone else.

Oscar’s tactic had the desired effect, and after allowing Bruce Banner to lift his leg and water the climbing rosebush on the side of the cottage, the three elderly ladies piled back in to Maxine’s SUV.

“Thank you, Oscar,” Teddy said, slipping her arm through his. “I really do need to get a little more work done—make sure the flash drive transfers, and setting up the new laptop.”

Though he looked a little disappointed, Oscar didn’t argue. “Just go finish the book. Then you won’t have anything on your mind except…other things.” His grin was filled with promise. “Because when I get my hands back on your butt, I don’t want you thinking about anything but that.”

She laughed and gave him a warm, sensual, body-rubbing hug. “Sounds like a plan.”

And she disappeared to her bedroom office.

While Teddy spent the rest of that day working on her laptop, Oscar had his own things to attend to.

He’d had a brilliant idea for a new research project and written up the specs for his grad students, and decided he’d open it up to some of the undergrads as well. Why not?

He also did some more research on types of alga and moss that grew on the west side of Michigan. He was determined to identify whatever the glowing entity was.

He went for a swim in Lake Michigan, which, surprisingly, was invigorating and not freezing.

He hadn’t set his lab up fully since the break-in, but he did do a little hiking to collect more water samples for some basic study. None of them except the hot spring had the crystalline snowflakes in them. And that continued to niggle at him.

The next day was much the same, though Teddy wasn’t cloistered away as she’d been before. She brought her laptop out to work on the porch, and they decided to grill a couple of steaks and fresh corn on the cob. So he ran into town to grab the groceries and a good bottle of red.

And that was good—to give himself that little bit of space. Because as much as he wanted to plant his hands back on that enticing ass of hers, he managed to keep them to himself. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he didn’t want any distractions.

He wanted her attention on him, and only him when he finally got her into bed—and undressed. Because once he got her there, he wasn’t intending to let her leave for at least a day.

He grinned to himself at the thought, and talked his hormones down for the fiftieth time that day alone. It would be worth it.

Oscar hadn’t looked at his phone all day, so it wasn’t until he was just about to prep the steaks for the grill that he noticed the text message.

It was from Marcie.

His heart lurched when he read the notification showing part of the text: Hey.

As his palms went damp, he did some calculations and realized her wedding had been two days ago.

Huh. He hadn’t even noticed the date had come and gone. He’d lost track of the days and time—for that purpose, anyway.

Oscar smiled to himself, pleased and relieved. All good. He was moving on.

He had moved on.

So he didn’t respond right away—or even open the text message box. He was good. It was fine. Marcie was happily married to Trevor, and Oscar was…here in Michigan. With Teddy.

Being haunted and broken in on, helping to plot thrillers, learning about brewing tea, and generally enjoying life.

And counting the hours until she finished her book—really finished it—so he could get to the project of finishing her.

He chuckled and set the phone aside to get the grill fired up.

But later, after they’d eaten and cleaned up the dishes, and Teddy had gone to her room to work for a little longer, he picked up the phone and opened the message alert. He was surprised to discover that was all it said: Hey.

At least she hadn’t sent him a picture of wherever she was—on her honeymoon, he realized—or, worse, a pic of the wedding.

Because it was rude not to respond, he texted back: Hey.

To his surprise, a little bubble immediately appeared on the screen, indicating she was responding.

Finally, her message came through: I guess you heard.

He frowned. Heard what?

Her response bubble popped up, then disappeared. Then it popped up again, stayed there for a long, long time (what was going on?), then finally her response blipped onto the screen: I didn’t do it.

Oscar stared at the words. A cold sweat slicked over his skin, and his stomach knotted. Didn’t do what? he replied. But his mouth was dry because he knew. And then her answer came through.

I didn’t get married.

He read the words again. Stared at the phone. Blindly walked out onto the porch. He needed air.

Then, with fumbling fingers, he called Dina.

“Hi, sis,” he said, casually. Very casually, even though his heart was pounding hard and fast enough to make him feel nauseated.

“Hey, bro. How are you doing?” Did she sound cautious? Overly hearty? Blithely innocent? He wasn’t certain. “You still in Michigan?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the name of the town again?”

“It’s called Wicks Hollow. I’m staying in the keeper’s cottage of a lighthouse. It’s—interesting.” To say the least. “So what’s new there?”

He waited, his heart still pounding—and even as he held the phone to his ear, he heard the soft ding of a text message coming in. And then another one. But he didn’t pull away the phone to look.

“Keeping busy?” Dina said.

“Yes.” Oscar felt his brows knit together as he began to pace the length of the porch. “What happened? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“About…?”

“Come off it, Engadine! You know exactly what I’m talking about. Why didn’t you tell me what happened? Marcie didn’t get married. Why? What happened?”

Her sigh was audible over the phone. “No, she didn’t. She called it off two days before.”

“She called it off.”

“Yes, she did.”

“Why?” His question was hardly more than a breath.

“You’d have to ask her that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Dina?”

“Oscar.”

“What?”

She sighed again. “Nothing. I suppose you’re happy about it.”

“Well, of course I’m— Well, I don’t know. I’m still a little shocked. You don’t have any idea what happened? He didn’t—do anything to her, did he? Cheat on her? Or—or anything else?”

“Not that I know of. I think she just realized it was a mistake. Oscar…”

There was silence for a moment. Another text notification came in, but he didn’t look just yet.

“What, Dina?”

“Just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again, Scary.”

Her use of the nickname she’d adopted when she was too little to say “Oscar” made him smile a little. “I’m a big boy, little sis. I can take care of myself.” He drew in a breath, still struggling to make sense of everything, still pacing—as if that would somehow clear his mind. “How’s Bethany? Everything going all right with the two of you?”

“Everything’s great—though I have to admit, she was pretty disappointed she wasn’t able to be my date for the wedding after all. We were sort of looking forward to making a statement, too. She said she couldn’t wait to see me in a skirt, since I was going to be a bridesmaid. But thank goodness I didn’t end up having to wear that awful dress Marcie picked out. And don’t you ever tell Marcie I said that!” she added fiercely.

Oscar laughed because she made a joke, but he was surprised that Marcie had insisted Dina wear a dress. “If I had known you were going to wear a skirt, I might’ve come just to see that. The last time I saw you in a dress was your first communion.”

“Shut up,” she said, laughing. “Tell you what—if you ever get married, I’ll wear a dress. And happily. As long as it’s not in that horrible fuchsia Marcie picked out.”

“No way, sis. You’ll wear a tux if that’s what you want to wear.” His sister had had a rough time growing up as someone who knew she was a lesbian from the age of twelve. It wasn’t until she got to college that people stopped trying to pigeonhole the blue-eyed, strawberry-blond china doll into frilly dresses and lots of makeup. That had never been her style.

“Oscar,” she said, her voice sober. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to get all—well, to get your hopes up. I don’t know what Marcie’s thinking, or how she’s feeling, or anyth—”

“She texted me. Out of the blue. To tell me.”

Dina muttered something he couldn’t quite make out, but it didn’t sound nice. “What are you going to do?”

He shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to do anything, you know,” she said quickly.

“I know. Hey, I’d better let you go. I know you have to get up early tomorrow. Give Bethany a hug for me. I’ll be in touch.”

“Love you, Scary.”

“Love you too.”

Oscar disconnected, feeling strangely unsettled. Then he looked at the text messages that had come in while he was talking to Dina.

You didn’t know? Didn’t Dina tell u?

Oscar, we need to talk.

Are u there?

He looked down at the messages. His hand was slick and his head felt light.

His dream had come true. His deepest hope and most secret of wishes had come to pass.

Marcie was free.

And she’d contacted him.

Maybe there was something about that hot-springs water after all…

He replied to the text messages: Okay.

Then he walked into the house and went to his bedroom.