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His nod confirmed that that was what he was thinking as well.

“Margaret, now in her twenties, discovers something that makesher think Ashton was responsible for her mother’s death. It’s time for revenge.”

Colter said, “Another scenario. Sarah was married too. She gets pregnant by Ashton and has the baby. The husband finds out and kills her. Margaret blames Ashton.”

“Little extreme.”

“But look at the syntax of the letter. There’s a foreign tone about it. European or Mediterranean or Latin? Relationships can be fiery. Misogynistic too.”

Dorion conceded this was true. And added, “Even if he doesn’t kill her, though, he might have thrown Sarah out, cut her off completely. She led a terrible life. Ashton won’t help because he’s married and has a family of his own. Sarah dies impoverished. And that sets Margaret off.”

In his reward business, Colter Shaw was well aware of the intricate soap opera plots that were people’s lives. This teleplay was no more outlandish than any other that bloomed when the orbits of two people overlapped.

“But get even against who? She has to know he’s dead. It’s public knowledge. The most basic research would have shown that.”

“Which means Mary Dove might be the target.”

Colter added, “Or us.”

“Positive reasons she’s looking for the Compound?”

“Ashton told Sarah and their daughter everything about his other family. But Margaret went off to school to study abroad, got a degree or two and has come back to reconnect.”

“Maybe we should have nicknamed you the Optimistic One.”

“Just ask me the percentage likelihood.”

She lifted her palm.

“Ten percent it’s innocent. Why is she asking third parties about the Compound? Any research would tell her about me and the reward business. I’m in dozens of articles and podcasts. And Google takes you right to my website.”

“That means ninety percent she wants to kill us and burn the Compound to the ground.”

“Not exactly,” Colter said. “Remember there’s that other percentage.”

“The unknown. The percentage that it’s something else, something we can’t figure out just yet.”

“Right. I’d say ten percent innocent, fifty percent she has murder or mayhem on the mind, and forty percent who-the-hell-knows.” Colter thought for a moment. He added, “And she mentions going to Eddy Street. What’s that about?”

A part of San Francisco’s Tenderloin District. Back then it was an unsavory place, to put it mildly.

Dorion shook her head.

He said, “Well, the important thing is to get Mary Dove out of the Compound.”

“We can’t just call. News like this isn’t phone worthy. Let alonetextworthy.”

He agreed. “But we can’t get back to the Compound while this”—a nod at the levee—“is going on. And even if we did tell her that her stepdaughter is looking for her— Wait. Is she a stepdaughter?”

“No, no relationship between Mary Dove and Margaret.”

Colter could never keep family connections straight. “Even if we did tell her on the phone, you know what she would do.”

“Stay and defend the place.”

“It’s just a matter of time until Margaret finds the Compound.”

“We need to get Mary Dove here. Stat.”