Maybe she should have.
Jill rose from her chair and went to get her laptop. Retreating to a guest bedroom in the back of the house, she drew the shades and began her search. With only a vague idea of what she was doing, Jill looked for the document Marc had given the judge. Her first thought was that, as a court document, it might be part of the public record, but Jill couldn’t find it.
Several hours later, a bigger picture began to form, but it was murky. Jill printed documents and pictures that seemed like what she needed, even though she wasn’t sure. Everything she discovered seemed to offer some clue, and yet nothing came together.
The chirp of her cell phone startled her. Straightening, she winced at the crick in her neck. As she reached for her phone, she noticed the room wasn’t as dark as it had been when she’d started.
“Hello?” Jill’s eyes felt grainy and dry.
“Hello, Ms. DiFiore. This is Sheri, Seth’s assistant?” a chipper voice began immediately. “He asked me to call you. I hope it’s not too early.”
Jill cleared her throat. “No, not too early at all.”
“I’m calling with good news: the client Seth toured the house with yesterday is very interested. He’s requested another showing and wants to bring his team down this morning, if that’s okay with you?”
“He has a team?” Jill echoed, her head fuzzy from lack of sleep.
“Yes. He’s hired an architect and an engineer to look into expanding the widow’s walk on the roof. It’s got such a great view, there’s really no reason not to.” Her voice was much too cheery for this early in the morning and it made Jill’s head ache. “They were delighted to discover that the property has almost no restriction on building or expanding. Such an advantage, don’t you think?”
“Yes, it is,” Jill agreed, without enthusiasm. Of course there would be few restrictions. Peter Muscadine had trusted his son-in-law.
“So do you mind if we come down and measure? Maybe take some photographs? If things go well, Seth might have an offer for you very soon.”
“Sure. Of course. Come whenever you like.”
“Great!” Sheri gushed. “We hoped you’d agree. Seth and the client are on their way to you now. This showing will be a long one. But, with luck, it will be the last.”
“That’s fine. Take as long as you like. I’ll be out all day.”
After the conversation ended, Jill rose and threw some things in her bag. On her way out the door, she grabbed the pages she’d printed, along with her camera case. She needed to talk to someone she trusted.
Twenty-Three
Ellie was still away when Jill arrived back at the apartment. Dropping her bags, she made her way to the spare bedroom, pushing away all thought of Dewberry Beach and the festival as she shrugged off her coat. Right now she was supposed to be delivering her photograph to Brenda’s framers. More than anything she wished she could. It hurt to lose this opportunity.
And what would Brenda think of her when she found out who she was?
What would they all think?
The obvious answer was that they’d think she was no better than Marc. And that judgment wasn’t fair.
Sometime later, Jill woke to the sound of the front door opening. The light outside was dim, and her head felt fuzzy from the oddly timed sleep.
“Hello?” Ellie called.
“I’m in here,” Jill croaked as she sat up.
Ellie appeared at the guest-room door, looking contrite. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were sleeping.”
“It’s okay. I need to get up anyway.” Jill pushed the blanket from her legs. “How was the wedding?”
“Fine. The Brockhursts paid well, but I didn’t like it. I’m not sure organizing posh weddings in the Hamptons is the best career path for me.” She reached for the door. “You want to go back to sleep?”
“Uh-uh.” Jill shook her head as she stood. “I’m hungry. Have you eaten?”
“They gave us a boxed lunch, but honestly, I could seriously go for a Mama G’s pizza.”
Jill smiled. It felt good to be with her best friend again. So why did her thoughts pull her toward Dewberry Beach?
They ordered a pizza and set the box on the coffee table when it arrived. Ellie grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and settled on the floor, just like they used to, and as they ate, she told Jill about the Brockhurst wedding—the luxury and the guests. She described the woman who’d brought her twins to an adults-only reception and had been furious that on-site childcare hadn’t been provided. And the teens who’d crept into the wine cellar for a bottle of their own, setting off the alarm in the process. It almost felt like old times—almost.
When the pizza was reduced to just a few crusts tossed into the box, Ellie’s attitude became more serious. Her gaze sharpened as if she were trying to solve a puzzle.
“Something happened at the shore, didn’t it?” she asked as she pushed herself up from the floor. “Something you haven’t told me.”
“Well, the sales agent may have found a buyer already, so that’s good news… great, in fact,” Jill offered, deliberately stalling. Ellie looked tired and Jill wasn’t sure this was the right time to present her findings. “And they’re measuring today. Or maybe they already have. The days are starting to blend.”
Ellie paused, her eyes narrowing as she considered. Finally, she shook her head. “Nope. That’s not it.” She took two more beers from the refrigerator and handed one to Jill.
Jill twisted the top and tossed it into the pizza box. She thought of the mortgage she wouldn’t have
