Charlotte sighed. “I had to ask. I thought maybe you’d know something.”
“I’m sorry I don’t. This is all very exciting, though. Secret babies. It’s like a Hallmark movie. Do you think she’s secretly an angel?”
Charlotte jerked back her head. “What?”
“Someone always ends up being a secret angel.” Mariska waved her hand as if dismissing her previous thought. “Probably not. What are you going to do?”
“As soon as the sun comes up I’m going to give the Loggerhead Inn a call and see if Siofra McQueen still works there.”
“You think she’s still there?”
“I don’t know. Right now it’s the only lead I have.”
Mariska pressed her lips together and nodded. “It’s all very mysterious. Any idea who Shea McQueen is?”
“I can tell you the Internet has no idea. I couldn’t find anything about him—or at least nothing that told me I had the right Shea McQueen. I’m going to keep looking.”
Charlotte spotted the exact moment Mariska’s attention began to wander.
“Do you want some breakfast?”
Mariska’s gaze drifted to her always-stuffed refrigerator. Charlotte was surprised the poor appliance didn’t groan with relief at the idea of something being removed.
“I could make toast and eggs, or waffles, or a scramble, or—”
Charlotte smiled. “No, thank you. I’m going to try and do a little more research and then pack.”
“Pack for what?”
“For a trip to Jupiter Beach. If I call and Siofra is there, I need to go meet her. If she isn’t there, I want to go look for her—find a lead. Can you watch Abby for a day or two?”
“Of course.” Mariska frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe Siofra doesn’t want to be found.”
Charlotte cocked her head. “I never considered that.” She thought for a moment and then decided she didn’t want to consider that scenario a possibility. “Ah well. I’ll give you an update in a bit. Maybe I’ll get her on the phone and that’s all it will take.”
“Okay. Just let me know.”
Charlotte packed up the box, and after enduring a trademark bear-hug from Mariska, returned to her house. She did more Internet-searching, but found no Shea McQueen who could be her grandmother’s baby-daddy.
Nanny, what were you up to?
Why would her nanny have a baby with another man ten years after her mother was born? How could her mother not know she had a sister? Or half-sister as the case may be—
Charlotte recalled a story her mother once told her about how she’d traveled to live with a family friend on a farm for the summer when she was around ten. Enthralled by the idea of riding horses all day, young Charlotte had never thought it strange that her mother would be sent away to stay with a family friend she’d never met before or after. But now...
That’s it.
Her grandmother had sent her mother to live with friends while she was heavily pregnant with Siofra. Her mother didn’t know she had a sister because Nanny had hidden it from her.
Siofra had been a secret from the whole family.
But what about when her mother came home? Where was Siofra at the time?
Charlotte’s gaze dropped to the birth certificate again.
Shea McQueen.
Did you take your daughter with you?
Charlotte looked at her watch again.
Eight o’clock.
Close enough.
She found her phone and dialed the Loggerhead Inn, which, according to the Internet, was still in business. The woman who answered the phone sounded young and chipper.
“Good morning, Loggerhead Inn. How can I help you?”
Charlotte decided to get right to the true purpose of her call.
“Hi, I was hoping someone there could help me. I’m looking for Siofra McQueen?” She pronounced the name ‘she-fra,’ which was how the Internet had told her to do it.
“I’d be happy to help you. Do you know what room she’s staying in?”
“She isn’t a guest, I think she works there.”
“Oh.” The girl’s tone seemed to grow icy. “In what area?”
“That’s it. I don’t know. I was hoping you did,” Charlotte said, tacking a nervous chuckle to the end. It didn’t seem to warm the chill growing between herself and the young woman on the opposite side of the line.
“Can I ask what this is in reference to?”
“I—” Charlotte paused. She hadn’t taken the time to devise a plausible answer to that question. She couldn’t tell the woman she’d discovered she had an aunt she didn’t know existed.
“She’s a friend of the family and I wanted to notify her about a death.”
She winced. Her lie was a little heavier than she’d meant it to be.
After a short silence, the girl said, “Um, let me put you through to someone who might be able to help. Just a second please.”
A few moments later, Charlotte heard another female voice, this one smoky, an older woman.
“Hello, can I help you?”
“Hi. I’m looking for Siofra McQueen.”
She barely finished her sentence before the woman answered.
“I’m sorry we don’t have anyone here by that name.”
“Oh.” Charlotte felt defeated. “She was a friend of my mother’s, and, my mother’s dead. I wanted to let her know.”
“Who’s your mother?”
“Hm?”
“Who’s your mother?”
Charlotte frowned.
Do I have to tell her that?
“Um, I don’t think—”
“Tell you what. I’ll ask around and see if I can find anyone who might know her.”
“I’d appreciate it. The name is Siofra McQueen. She’d be in her late forties.”
“Got it.”
Charlotte’s attention wandered to the newspaper article, her gaze moving from one woman to the next. One possibility was blonde, the other two dark-haired...
Isn’t it strange the woman on the phone never asked what Siofra looks like?
“Do you know what she looks like?” Charlotte asked.
“Who?” The woman sniffed. “Oh. No. How could I? I don’t know her.”
