“God, yes.” Linda groaned, and he knew that she’d had the same visceral reaction to Cindy and her voluptuous body that he’d had.

“She’d wear these crocheted bikinis,” Linda said to Jackie.

“She was always real tan and she’d go prancing around on the beach leaving males lusting in her wake. And there I was, drooling from behind my book.”

“I never knew, Linda,” Rory said, shaking his head. “Never knew that you and I had so much in common back then.”

Linda laughed.

“Chloe was pretty hot back then, too,” Linda said.

“She was… sultry, with that long thick hair and those eyelashes.” “Sister Chloe?” Jackie asked.

“Oh, yes,” Linda said.

“Chloe and her cousin, Ellen. You know Ellen, who comes down every once in a while with her husband? The heavyset woman?”

Jackie nodded.

“Yes, Chloe was hot,” Rory agreed, “but she was always skinny as a rail. Except for….” He let his voice trail off. It felt odd to discuss Chloe’s body with women, and odder still to discuss the body of a nun.

“I know what you mean.” Linda finished the thought for him with a chuckle.

“Well, it sounds to me,” Jackie said, “that it couldn’t have been this Cindy Tramp person if she was always parading around in a bikini. How would she hide her pregnancy?”

“But that’s the thing,” Linda said.

“Daria found Shelly right at the beginning of the summer, and the week before had been totally shitty weather. So nobody was parading around in any kind of bathing suit. We were all bundled up that week.” Suddenly, she leaned toward Rory, a serious expression on her face.

“Rory,” she said, “I’m afraid to tell you who I really think Shelly’s mother was.”

He frowned.

“Why?” he asked.

“Who?”

“I always thought it was Polly.” There was an apology in her voice.

“Who was Polly?” Jackie asked.

Rory sat back in his chair, sinking his fingers into the fur on Melissa’s neck.

“My sister,” he said. Then to Linda, “Why would you think that?”

“It just seemed logical to me,” Linda said.

“I mean, hadn’t you ever considered it?”

“No,” he said vehemently, “not at all.” He looked at Jackie.

“My sister had Down’s syndrome.”

“And that’s just it,” Linda said.

“It would have been easy for someone to take advantage of Polly, and if she’d gotten pregnant, she might not have had any idea what was happening to her body. She might not have known any better than to try to get rid of the baby.”

Rory smiled tolerantly. “Even Polly would have known how cruel and inhumane that would be,” he said. It disturbed him that Linda would think otherwise.

“Well,” Linda said, sitting back in her chair.

“I can assure you it wasn’t me. And if it wasn’t Polly, and if it was someone on the cul-de-sac, then you’d better try to track down Cindy Trump.”

-Lrom the livingroom window in her small apartment above the garage.

Grace could see her house. It was after ten in the morning; surely Eddie had gone to the cafe by now. She was avoiding her husband to the best of her ability. She had to see him when she went into work, of course, but even there, she limited conversation to those words that had to be said to keep the cafe and shop running smoothly.

She descended the outside apartment stairs and entered the house by the back door. Since moving above the ga rage, she only went into the house when she knew Eddie wouldn’t be there, and the house always seemed too still and empty to her. Quiet as a tomb. Today, she had only one quick task to do there, and then she would head up to Kill Devil Hills.

She went upstairs and opened the door to the room she had been avoiding for months. Pamela’s room. It gave her a jolt to see the bare mattress on the bed, the walls stripped of posters and photographs.

Eddie must have cleaned out the room, and it angered her that he had not asked her permission. Had he cleaned out her closet, too?

She walked quickly across the room to the closet and slid open one of the doors. Pamela’s clothes were indeed gone, but there were a few boxes of items left on the closet shelf, along with the large glass jar containing the shell collection. Grace reached up to pull the jar into her arms.

Its lid was dusty, and she cleaned it off with a swipe of her hand as she walked out into the hallway. Shutting the door behind her, she realized she’d been holding her breath, and she stood still for a moment, trying to breathe normally again.

She was downstairs in the living room, nearly to the front door, when she was startled by the deep, very familiar voice of her husband.

“What are you doing with Pam’s shell collection?” Eddie asked.

She nearly dropped the jar as she turned to face him.

“How come you’re not at work?” she asked.

“Sally opened for me,” Eddie said, referring to one of the waitresses.

“And I think I’m going to have to hire someone else, too. You’ve been… not too reliable recently.”

“I know,” she said.

“I’m sorry.” “Where have you been lately, Grace?” he asked. “Why haven’t you been at the cafe? I don’t mind doing most of the work, but it would help if you could at least let me know when you’re going to be there.”

“I had a number of doctors’ appointments,” Grace lied, and immediately regretted it. A look of worry crossed Eddie’s face as he took a step closer to her, but he seemed to know better than to touch her.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, and her heart betrayed her by filling with love for him. He looked very tired. New gray streaks marbled his dark hair, and there were bags beneath his blue eyes. These past few months had been rough for him, too.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to shake off the feelings of warmth for him.

“I’ll be back at the cafe later this afternoon.” With that, she clutched the jar closer to her chest and left the house, wondering if he’d noticed she was wearing the short seersucker robe she always wore over her bathing suit. She hardly looked as though she was on her way to a doctor’s appointment.

She found Rory on the beach by the cul-de-sac.

“Hi!” he said when she set her beach chair in the sand next to his.

He looked pleased to see her, and that pleasure tugged at her guilt.

She was not being very kind to the men in her life.

“Hello.” She took off her robe, sat down and pulled a tube of sunscreen from her beach bag. “How are you?”

“Better, now.” Rory said.

“I didn’t expect to see you today.” “Well, I had some time before I have to go in to work, so I thought I’d come up here for a while.”

“Here.” He leaned over to reach for the sunscreen.

“Let me put that on your back for you.”

She held the tube away from him.

“I can do it,” she said. She squeezed some of the lotion onto her hand and tried to transfer it to her back.

Rory laughed at her contortions.

“Come on, don’t be shy.” He reached for the tube again, and this time she handed it to him. She leaned forward in her chair as he massaged the lotion into her back and shoulders.

This is a mistake, she thought. How should she handle things with Rory? She didn’t want to lead him on, yet she knew of no other way to be able to spend time so close to Shelly. She knew she was giving him the wrong impression. He thought she was repeatedly driving round trip between Rodanthe and Kill Devil Hills just to see him.

She was relieved when he stopped rubbing her shoulders and was no longer touching her. She was not unaware of his attractiveness, but no man—not Rory, not her husband—could pique her interest these days.

“Thanks,” she said, leaning back in her chair.

She chatted with him about the weather and a little about some attempted conversation he’d had the day before with Zack. Something about sex; she didn’t want to get into that. She hoped he would mention Shelly, trying to wait an appropriate amount of time before delving into her favorite topic herself. Her gaze was on those people walking along the beach, hoping to see the tall, young, blond woman who was capturing her heart.

When a few minutes of silence had passed between them and it was apparent he was not going to mention Shelly, she could stand it no longer.

“Oh, before I forget,” she said, forcing her voice to sound casual, “I have something for Shelly in my car.”

“She’s at work today,” Rory said.

“But I can give it to her, if you like.”

“At work? You mean at the church?” Her heart sank at the realization that she had come all the way down here and Shelly was not even at the Sea Shanty.

“Right. St. Esther’s.” Rory shaded his eyes to look at her.

“What do you have for her?”

“Oh, just an old jar of shells. It’s been collecting dust at my house for ages, and I thought she might be able to put it to good use.”

“I’m sure she will,” Rory said.

“Don’t forget to leave it with me before you go.”

“I might as well drop it off at St. Esther’s myself,” Grace said.

“I

have to go right past there on my way home. “

Now that she knew Shelly was not around, she was anxious to get back on the road. But it would look odd to leave this soon, and besides, Rory still wanted to talk.

“I spoke with one of the neighbors today,” he said.

“A woman who was here when Shelly was found. She was one of those kids who was very shy and quiet and faded into the woodwork, but I think it made her a keen observer of everything that was going on around her.”

“And… so, what did she observe?” Grace held her breath, waiting for his answer.

“Oh, she’s really playing a guessing game about who might have left Shelly on the beach. Same as everyone else. Only…” His voice trailed off.

“Only what?” “She said she always thought it was my sister. My sister, Polly. She had Down’s syndrome and was fifteen at the time Shelly was found. I think Linda’s out of her mind, of course, but… the thought is still grating on me.” “Is there any chance she could be right?” Grace asked.

“No, no way.” Rory shuddered.

“At least I hope there was no way.

Surely my mother would have known. But then. I’m starting to think crazy things. Like what if it had been Polly? And what if my mother knew and kept quiet about it to protect her? My mother was very protective of Polly, and I don’t think that would’ve been totally out of the question. “

Grace felt sorry for him. He was torturing himself with this, and she wanted to rescue him.

“Yes, but if it had been Polly, don’t you think you would have known something was going on with her? You lived in the same house.”

“You’re right,” he said.

“It’s just that Linda planted that seed in my mind and it’s been eating away at me ever since.”

Grace looked down at her pale legs.

“Well, as usual, I’m starting to bum,” she said, although her legs looked just as white as they had when she arrived.

“I’d better head back to Rodanthe.”

“We can go in the cottage for a while,” Rory suggested.

“Or we can go somewhere for a drink or a cup of coffee.”

She turned away from the hope in his eyes.

“No, I can’t,

really. I Ji^t came down here for a little break, but I’d better get back to work. “

Rory stood up and folded her chair for her. “You must love driving,” he said, alluding to all the time she was spending in the car for a mere half hour on the beach. Especially when she had a beach a few blocks from her own home. He had to think she was either madly in love with him. or simply mad.

“I don’t mind,” she said.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to give your shells to Shelly for you?” Rory asked.

“No,” she said.

“If I leave now, I’ll have time to stop at the church.”

Grace had never been to St. Esther’s and was not certain if she should go into the church itself or the small building beside it. She opted for the building, and once inside, found herself in a wide, woodsy-smelling corridor. A man stepped into the hallway from one of the offices and walked toward her.

“Hello,” he said. He was dressed in a short-sleeved, blue plaid shirt and khaki pants, and he was sandy-haired and handsome. He eyed the jar of shells in her arms, then looked at her quizzically.

“I’m looking for Shelly Cato,” she said.

He motioned toward one of the wooden benches against the wall.

“Have a seat,” he said.

“I’m Father Macy. I’ll find her for you. I think she’s working in Father Wayne’s office right now.”

“Thank you.” Grace took a seat, the heavy jar on her lap, and watched the priest walk down the hall and disappear into one of the rooms.