The House on Blackberry Hill (Jewell Cove 1)

She nodded. “She showed herself to you, too. She must trust you a lot, Tom. I think she was saying good-bye.”

“That was … that’s just…”

Abby laughed softly. “I’ve had longer to get used to it. Take your time.”

The banker’s box sat on the table while Abby got up to make a pot of tea and sandwiches for lunch. It wasn’t until the plates were cleared away and the teacups rinsed that she couldn’t hold back her curiosity. With Tom at her side, she carefully opened the lid and began to sort through the contents.

The hand on her shoulder stiffened as Tom reached past her with his opposite hand, taking out a photo that had caught his attention.

“Tom? What is it?” Abby put down the jewel box and leaned over to see what he held in his hand.

The picture was old—maybe twenty or thirty years by the fashions. She recognized Marian, smiling brightly behind a couple and a new baby. “That’s the Sullivans,” Tom said. “That baby must be Rick. But what was Marian doing there?”

He turned the photo over and his breath came out in a rush. Last clients of Foster House was written in blue ink on the back.

“Rick,” he said, and dropped the photo back into the box as if it were on fire.