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“No?”

Lara hesitated. “Jo has always been defiantly introverted.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it.”

“Isn’t it?” Lara said, “If you’re thinking Jo is writing these letters and then sending them to someone in Pirate’s Cove to mail them for her, no.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not her style. Anyway, she’s more of a dreamer than a doer.”

“Is it true that your sister is also trying to launch a music career?”

Lara didn’t roll her eyes, but the effect was the same. “Like I said, Jo’s a dreamer, not a doer.”

Whoa.Ellery hoped his expression didn’t reveal what he was thinking. He’d always wanted siblings when he was growing up, but with a sister like Lara, who needed natural enemies?

Or maybe Lara was just keeping it real. Maybe eleven years in prison knocked all the sugarcoating and sentiment out of you.

“Did you keep in touch with Sutherland and Rathbone?”

“I tried. I hoped we’d eventually get past it. We were close. I cared about them.” She shook her head. “But no. They weren’t having any of it. Like I said, I have no idea if they’re even still on the island. Neither planned on staying here past college.”

Ellery thought over what he’d learned. “Okay. Well, it gives me a place to start.”

“Does it? It all seems pretty unlikely to me.”

“Then you don’t think the threats are real?”

Lara seemed to mull it over. “I don’t know.” She gave an odd smile. “I’ll tell you something. After the last eleven years,noneof this feels real.”

No kidding. He felt his first flash of sympathy for her.

“If the threats aren’t real, what do you think is going on?”

Lara contemplated him for a moment. “Good question.”

* * * * *

When Ellery arrived back to the Crow’s Nest after his breakfast with Lara, he fully expected to hear Nora and Kingston haunting—er, rehearsing for Sunday’s debut. Instead, he discovered nearly the full contingent of the Silver Sleuths in assembly.

“I’m not saying itcouldn’thappen.” Nora’s voice carried clearly as Ellery knelt to unfasten Watson’s harness. “I’m only saying it’shighlyunlikely.”

“Here we go again,” Ellery whispered. Watson, eyes shining, tongue lolling, wagged his tail.

Hermione Nelson retorted, “But isn’t that true of all these discoveries? Who was that American school teacher who found that lost sonnet by Shelley in an antiques shop in the Lake District?”

“Grace something?” Mrs. Ferris offered.

“Sheworkedin an antiques shop,” Nora said. “She didn’t find the sonnet there. She found it…well, somewhere else. Which is my point.”

“What is your point?” Ellery inquired.

The Silver Sleuths—having missed the sound of the doorbell because, as usual, they were all talking at the same time—greeted him with more guilt than delight.

“Oh,thereyou are, dearie!” Nora exclaimed.

“And hereyouall are,” Ellery replied.