Nick leaned forward, putting an elbow on his knee and resting his chin on his palm.
“You could just let it go,” he said. “This is a police matter, Kate. It’s not up to you to solve this crime.”
“I don’t agree!” she said, louder than she intended. She pushed herself to her feet and walked over to the fireplace. “I’m the one who’s dreaming about her. She washed up on the beach in front of my parents’ home. This feels really personal to me. And, forgive me, but there’s no way you are going to find a living, breathing person who is responsible for her death. If her murder is going to be solved, it is up to me.”
“But why, Kate? Just for the sake of argument, say everything we’ve been talking about today is true. Say the woman lying in the morgue right now is the very same woman in this photograph. She died more than a century ago! As you said, there is no living, breathing person to bring to justice, to pay for this crime.”
Kate wheeled around to face him. “That’s not the point!”
“Justice isn’t the point? Then what is?”
Simon had come into the room, carrying Kate’s cup of tea. He stood still, eyeing her.
“What?” she said to him.
He raised his eyebrows. “I wasn’t sure if I should come in or not. It sounded rather . . . heated in here.”
Kate let out a sigh and folded herself back down into her chair. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking from Simon to Nick and back again. “I’m just so frustrated with all of this. You’re right, Nick. She’s been dead for a century, and whoever did this died long ago, too. So, for me, this isn’t about catching a killer and making him pay for his crimes.”
“For all we know, he did pay,” Simon said, setting the cup in front of Kate.
“What do you mean?” she said.
Simon settled into the other armchair. “We’ve got the body, but we don’t know anything else,” he said. “For all we know, somebody did pay for the crime, all those years ago.”
Kate nodded. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that.” Kate paused for a minute. “For me, it’s about something else. I only know that I can’t stop looking until I find out what that ‘something else’ is. But without a name, I don’t know how I can find out anything online, and . . .” She let her thought dissolve into a sigh.
Kate took a sip of the tea that Simon had placed in front of her and found her hands were shaking.
Simon eyed her and then turned his gaze to the detective, who had also noticed.
“She’s thought of nothing else since she arrived,” Simon said to Nick. “It’s taking its toll on her, physically and emotionally. I’ve been begging her to take a break. We both can see she needs it.”
Kate set her teacup on the table. “Thank you for talking about me as though I’m not sitting right next to you.”
Simon smiled at her. “Well, Grandma’s not here, so that kind of slight is up to me now.”
Nick leaned forward, toward Kate. “Listen,” he said. “I think your cousin is right. I really shouldn’t be doing this because the investigation is still technically open, but how about we go somewhere for a beer and talk about anything other than this case?”
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” Simon piped up. “You need something else to think about.”
“Well . . . ,” Kate began.
“Well, nothing,” Simon said. “And you don’t have to go anywhere, either. We’ve got no guests right now. There’s an entire bar at your disposal. Charles isn’t here to make you any dinner, but feel free to whip up anything you’d like to eat. And I will put a ‘Closed’ sign on the door on my way out.”
“Since when are you going out?” Kate asked him.
“Since right now,” he said. “Have fun, kids.” He turned on his heel and walked out of the room.
Nick looked at Kate, smiling. “He gets his way all of the time, doesn’t he?”
“You have no idea,” she chuckled, pushing herself to her feet. “We had better get into the bar before he comes back and drags us in there himself.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Wharton, 1910
Addie and Jess walked toward the Connors’ grand home, hand in hand. Jess had hired a car, but Addie never felt comfortable in those contraptions and told her husband that she wanted to walk in the cool night air.
“Not a good idea, darling.” Jess had looked at her through narrowed eyes. “In your condition?”
“You act as though I’m fragile as a china teacup.” Addie had smiled, putting on her coat.
“You are.” Jess patted her growing belly. “You’re carrying precious cargo, you know.”
“Please?” she asked, making her way out the door and striding ahead of him down the street. “It’s just a little walk.”
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Jess stood in the doorway and called after her. “It’s quite a climb. I don’t think—”
“Nonsense.” Addie kept walking. “With all the lying about I did today, I can use a bit of exercise.”
“Follow us,” Jess called over his shoulder to the driver as he jogged down the street to catch up with his wife. “If she gets tired, I want you close by.”
He caught up with Addie and grabbed her hand. “You vex me, Miss Cassatt,” he smiled at her.
“That’s ‘Mrs. Stewart’ to you.” Addie smiled back at him.
They walked in silence on the raised sidewalks for a bit, and then Jess said, “Darling, I’m so sorry about this morning.”
“Let’s not talk about it anymore,” Addie said, squeezing Jess’s hand. He squeezed back. She didn’t want to think about the bitter words they had exchanged that morning, but they were still hanging in the air between them.
“I just don’t understand why you cannot seem to make small talk with these people,” Jess had said to her at the breakfast table. “It’s just a dinner party, Addie. Once again I found you in the library instead of socializing with the wives of my colleagues. Why must you be so shy? Don’t you understand how embarrassing it is for me?”
Addie looked down at her untouched oatmeal. “I didn’t realize I was an embarrassment to you.”
Jess pushed his chair back from the table with a huff. “That’s ridiculous. You know you’re not an embarrassment. It’s just . . . Addie. Aren’t you happy here?”
She met his gaze. “I love our home and the town of Wharton and especially the proximity to the lake. I love you! And I love Celeste and Harrison. But the parties and socializing . . .” Her words trailed off into a sigh.
“What is the problem, Addie? How difficult is it to make a little small talk with the wives of my colleagues? To laugh? Can’t you even appear to be having a good time? I just don’t understand why you can’t bring yourself to be more helpful to me in this way.”
With that, he had grabbed his briefcase and stalked out the door without even a backward glance.
It didn’t help matters that he had come home from the office and found Addie swimming instead of dressing for the dinner party they were to attend at the Connors’ that night. He didn’t know—as she rushed onto shore and into the house after him—that it was the lake that soothed her after his outbursts.