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Vivian pinches her lips together. I know this look. It’s the same one Griff gives when he’s trying not to smile, except he doesn’t purse his lips so much as frown heavily.

“Nine a.m. sharp,” Vivian says. “Wait. Show me.”

It takes me a minute to understand. She wants to see my wedding ring. I hold it out for her, waiting for a word of criticism. It’s funny, Chester did the same thing this morning, though when I asked him if he was a fan of jewelry or something, he just shook his head, quiet. “It’s very nice,” he said before moving on to talk about his hens.

Now, Vivian says the same thing. Or half of it. “It’s nice.” Then she turns away, picking up the phone again.

I can’t believe it—a compliment from the ice queen. I head straight for Glo, buzzing with excitement now. “So, are you here tomorrow?”

She nods, smiling. “Yes.”

“Looks like we’ll be working together—if that’s okay with you.”

Her whole face brightens. “Are you kidding? Maybe I’ll stay after all.”

I leave the store practically skipping.

I send a quick text to Griffin to let him know I’m officially starting work tomorrow, then see I’ve missed a text from Nora, begging to hear how everything went last night.

I owe her more info, but I’ve hesitated to call her because we’ve always told each other everything. I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep this big secret from her.

I swallow down the strange feeling of pain that comes on the heels of my ridiculous happiness about being with Griffin and slide back into the truck without turning it on.

Nora answers on the second ring. “Oh my God, it’s Mrs. Kelly!”

For a moment I panic and almost slip, but we immediately launch into a long back and forth about everything. Nora grills me about everything from the day with his sisters to the sex.

At least so far I can answer her completely honestly. “Nora, it’s hands-down the best I’ve ever had.”

“There must be something in the genes of these boys,” Nora says, sighing.

But after we get all the updates out of the way, I lean back in the seat of the truck, feeling melancholy.

“I miss you, Nor. It’s weird being in your hometown without you.”

“I know. Not too long now, though. But hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Since you’re there, would you want to pick the Eleanor mystery back up?”

I perk up. “Really?”

Eleanor Cleary had been murdered in the Rolling Hills resort six decades before the Kelly family took it over. She’d been married to an oil baron with a bad reputation and mistresses on the side. Ironically, she was said to have been murdered by a jealous lover, and that she now haunted the Rolling Hills. Whether or not Jude and Nora believed the ghost story part, they’d taken it upon themselves to get to the bottom of the story and had tracked Eleanor to Switzerland, where they’d discovered she and her lover—her husband’s chauffeur, James—had had a lovechild while on a trip there.

That was where the story had gone cold.

I just couldn’t believe James had murdered her. Not when he was so hopelessly devoted to her. It wasn’t the weird kind of obsession, either. James was a prolific diarist, and Nora and Jude had found more than one of his journals. It was hard to reconcile the way he loved her and cared for her with that of someone who’d murder her in cold blood once they got back home to Vermont.

“I thought you might be done with the story since your documentary.”

“I am. I may have archival and library research skills, but even I can’t trace people where there are no records. Or classified records, like at the orphanage in the states the convent sent its children to. But Sash, you’re married to a man with considerable data resources.”

“You’re a nerd.”

“True. But so is your husband. As well as being a big, sexy protector man.”

He is that. “I’d be happy to see what I can find. No promises, though.”

“No pressure, either. There might not be anything left to find. The convent that took Eleanor’s baby in Switzerland had hardly any useful records there, but I’ll send them anyway.”

I sign off, promising to be in touch if we find anything.