“Shit.” Leonard jumped up. “There’s food out on the counters.”
Claude groaned. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”
“Of course,” Harriett told him. “Do you mind if I have a quick stroll around the grounds?”
“Not at all,” Leonard said. “Just keep an eye out for our seabeach amaranth. We have one of the biggest patches on the Eastern Seaboard.”
Harriett nodded, her attention already focused on a small older woman who’d appeared in the spot where the flock of gulls had been. The visitor walked to the edge of the scrub that separated the brilliant green grass from the beach and waved. She wore the somber gray dress of a domestic worker, and her hair was hidden beneath a kerchief of the same colorless fabric. She was twenty years older than Harriett, and she wore her age like a badge of honor.
Harriett trekked across the lawn to where the woman stood. “Hello,” she said. “Are you looking for me?”
“Yes, I’ve been waiting. When I saw the weeds and the bees, I knew you would be coming,” the woman responded.
“And now I am here. My name is Harriett.”
“Isabel.” The woman kept an eye on the house, but she didn’t seem afraid.
“What do you do on the Pointe, Isabel?” Harriett asked.
“I tend to the houseplants, and I take care of the workers. I know how to cure fevers and heal wounds, and protect the weakest among us from harm.”
Harriett was delighted. “You are like me. I knew the second I saw you.”
“Yes, women like us recognize each other.”
“Do you know why I’ve come?”
“The same reason I have. Girls are dead,” Isabel said. “You are here to avenge them. Spencer Harding is gone, but the scales are not balanced yet.”
“No,” Harriett agreed. “They certainly are not.”
“The people who work here on the Pointe over the summer see everything. But when the families go home, the workers leave as well. During the winter, when no one is watching, terrible things happen here. When people come back in May, it’s like the soil has turned poisonous. I can feel it now, seeping into my shoes. Mr. Harding was a bad man, but he was not the only one.”
“Who else is bad?” Harriett asked.
“Mr. Dunn. Two summers ago, a young woman named Rosalia came here with her mother to work on the Pointe. I did not know her, but I’ve seen pictures. She was a beautiful girl. One night, there was a party at Mr. Dunn’s house, and Rosalia was asked to serve drinks to the men. The next morning, the girl was gone. The police said she had run away. But there was nowhere for her to run. The guards would have seen her if she’d gone through the main gate. The only other way to leave the Pointe was by water, and Rosalia didn’t know how to swim.”
“Where is her mother now?”
“She was not allowed to stay. She’s back in Mexico. That’s where we met. She is the one who asked me to come here. She blames Mr. Dunn for what happened to her daughter.”
“That seems reasonable. Anyone else you think I should know about?”
“Yes, the police officer on Newsnight. He visits Mr. Dunn all the time. I watched the show, and I heard him say he didn’t get to the Pointe in time to arrest Mr. Harding. But that isn’t true. One of the cleaners was working next door to Mr. Harding’s house that night. She said the police officer was with Mr. Harding before the helicopter left.”
“Is there any way to prove it?” Harriett said.
“There will be video,” Isabel said. “Mr. Shaw records everything.” Her gaze shifted to a point somewhere behind Harriett. Leonard and Claude had returned to the table. Leonard bit into a croissant and gave them a friendly wave.