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Of course, our adventures couldn’t start until after Greg closed the murder investigation on Kane Matthews. As we drove back to South Cove on Sunday afternoon, I could tell his mind was on work. And what had happened in South Cove since we’d been gone. Twenty-four hours away and then we were back in the fray. Life as normal. Except now I wore two rings on my left hand, and I couldn’t kick him out of the house without filing all the legal papers around a divorce. Maybe it was too soon to be thinking about an escape plan.

“It was a beautiful wedding. I’m so glad we found that mission. Or more accurately, you found that mission.” I leaned back and let the sun sh ine on my face.

“Everyone seemed to love it, even Mom and Jim.” He glanced over at me. “Thanks for including Beth in the wedding party. I know it wa s last-minute.”

“If Jim had mentioned she was coming, it wouldn’t have been…” I paused. No use getting mad about something that was done and over with. “Anyway, it was nice getting to know her a little more.”

“So you saw the missi on ghost, huh?”

The quick change of subject made me sit up and open my eyes. “Why would you ask that?”

“Now I know you did. You always answer a question with a question when you don’t want to answer the first question. What did he look like?” Greg slowed down for a squirrel who couldn’t decide if he was going to dash out on t he road or not.

“Just like the story. He was over by the old chapel and dressed in a friar’s robe. He seemed happy about the wedding.” I leaned back again. “I guess I should have expected some sort of event like that during our wedding. We’re just those people.”

“I’m sorry we have to go back to normal life so soon. As soon as this case is wrapped up, I’ve told Marvin I’m gone for two weeks—no qu estions asked.”

“Two weeks?” I opened my eyes again and looked at him. “We’re leaving for two weeks?”

Greg laughed. “You didn’t expect that, did you?”

No, I hadn’t. I still didn’t know where we were going on our honeymoon. My aunt knew because Greg had worked with her to set up the arrangements. The only thing she’d said was to make sure I didn’t update my driver’s license with my new name until after the honeymoon. I’d kind of expected that to be a false trail.

Now I wondered.

“Anyway, I’m sorry about having to work. If this Matthews thing hadn’t happened, we’d be on our way.”

“On our way where?” I tried to make the questio n sound casual.

“To bright, beautiful Nunya,” he responded quickly. A litt le too quickly.

“Nunya?” I watched out the window at the rolling hills.

“Nunya business so stop asking.” He squeezed my hand. “We have time for an early dinner on the way home. I told Toby we’d be there about five so he could drop off Emma.”

“Sounds good.”

We pulled into a seafood restaurant just off the highway about thirty minutes later. Since it was Sunday, the parking lot was busier than during the week for an early dinner. Greg found a parking spot near the building, and we headed inside. As we were waiting to be seated, I saw Roger and Maryanne Matthews sitting at a table. He was looking at his phone and she was eating what looked like surf and turf. I wondered what dinner was being served on the compound while the church’s leaders ate out and ordered the most expensive item on the res taurant’s menu.

The hostess walked us right pa st their table.

Maryanne looked up as we passed by and smiled. “If it isn’t the newlyweds. I figured you two would be off on y our honeymoon.”

“Work issues,” Greg said as he held up a finger to the hostess. “Well, have a nice dinner.”

“You too, and congratulations on your wedding,” Roger said. He’d set aside his phone, looking like he’d just gotten caught reading or watching a gam e at the table.

We nodded and turned back to foll ow the hostess.

As we got seated, Greg glanced over at the Matthewses. “He was trading stock. Justin has the same app on his phone. He showed it to me during the b achelor party.”

“On a Sunday? And at dinner with your wife? How romantic.” I studied the menu. I didn’t want to overeat, but I’d been eating healthily for weeks to make sure I fit into my wedding dress. Now all I needed was to not look like a beached whale, if we were goin g to the beach.

Greg didn’t respond, and when I looked up I saw he was still watching Roger Matthews, who again had his pho ne in his hand.

“Greg? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, then turned and smiled at me. “Sorry, I’m not being romantic either. But from a quick glance, it looked like that account had over two million in it.”

“Dollars?” I set down the menu. “Where does a preacher get two million in a stock account? Do you think it’s the chu rch’s account?”

“Those are both good questions.” He picked up his phone and texted someone. Then he put it back on the side of the table and picked up the menu. “That surf and tur f looked good.”

“I’m going all seafood,” I said, thinking of the money in Roger’s stock fund. “Who did you text?”

“Esmeralda. I wanted to know if the financial reports from the church had been received yet.” His phone buzzed. He read the text and set it down again.

The waitress came and asked for our order. Greg ordered his meal and a large iced tea. I followed suit. After she left, h e took my hand.

“You could have had a drink. You don’t even have to work tomorrow.” He kissed my knuckles. “The celebration doesn’t ha ve to end yet.”

“But you’re working tonight?” I nodded to the phone. “I guess Esmeralda go t the reports.”

“She did, the net-worth statements from the church. I need to head into the station and go over everything.” He looked over at the other table. “Funny thing is, the church’s net worth is way less than two million. Not including the compound. So now we need to look at their private accounts. I need to find a judge who will give me a warrant.”

“I also have important work to do tomorrow,” I said as I took the iced tea from our server. “I need to do laundry and take the dog for a walk. And maybe drive your mom to another tourist trap.”

He sipped his tea, then added sugar. “I’m jealous.”

“You are not.” I leaned back in my seat. Life was back to normal.

* * * *

When Monday morning came, I found myself alone in the house. Greg had gone to work early. Amanda was hanging out with Jim and Beth for the next two days before they all left for home. And I’d already run Emma. I’d started the laundry last night before grabbing a book to try to relax. So after I rotated my last load from the washer to the dryer, I was done. Sure, I had a ton of thank you notes to write, but I’d had Toby put the gifts in the office so Greg and I could open them together and write the thank you cards then.

The process had worked when we got engaged. And doing them together forced us to spend time together as a couple. But now, with the investigation ongoing, it wasn’t time to add this task to Greg’s alr eady full list.

Besides writing the thank you notes and returning any unwanted gifts, most of the wedding stuff that had overwhelmed my life a week ago was gone. I needed to take my wedding dress to the cleaners and get it boxed up for my currently nonexistent daughter. She’d probably hate it anyway. But it was a cute tradition. And take the drachma to my safety deposit b ox at the bank.

I opened my laptop, planning on updating my status and seeing what was going on with my virtual friends. I saw that New Hope Lies, Friends and Parents of Deceived Members had a new post. Their name might be long, but at least it showed a clear direction for the group. And they’d let me join the group without having to answer any questions.

A man, Tanner O’Dell, had posted an update on his missing wife, Heather. I pulled out my notebook where I’d been writing down ideas and noted the important facts of Heather’s case.

She was at the compound. The security cameras at the fabric store showed her buying denim the day Amanda and I watched Carlie being detained by the police. I compared the grainy black-and-white screen shot to the summer picture on the lake he’d also post ed of his wife.

At the end of his post, he wrote, “Just wait, I’ll have some answers today. That is if the South Cove police aren’t on the take, like we bel ieve they are.”

I texted the link and the last line to Greg. “What i s he planning?”

Greg called instead of responding. “I can’t believe they did that. We got an anonymous tip last night asking for a welfare check—someone’s kids had gone to the compound with his wife. This must be that Heather. Now the compound knows we’re coming, and we’ll be the idiots both there and wi th this group.”

“How will the compound know you’re coming?” I was confused. Did they have to announce welfare checks?

“You knew. You don’t think Roger and Maryanne are smart enough to put a spy into the group? Did they ask you any questions when th ey let you in?”

I hadn’t thought of that. “No . They didn’t.”

“I’ve got to go. Toby’s probably calling off work for the week at the bookstore until we can get this under control.” He paused. “Sorry if it’s leaving yo u shorthanded.”

“We’ll be fine. I’ll split his hours between Deek and me. You get to tell your mom she’s lost her person al tour guide.”

He chuckled. “I think she’s going home with Jim and Beth soon anyway. S he’s worn out.”

“She thinks she’s giving us space. She doesn’t realize that during an investigation, we have all the space we need.” I ended the conversation and opened the Google calendar for the store. Toby had five shifts to cover. I checked my calendar, then emailed the staff and offered to take two and switch for the rest if I could have t he early shift.

Then I dug into the links Beth had sent me about the Matthews brothers. I copied my thanks to Greg, so he wouldn’t think I was h iding anything.

By noon, I’d read everything and I had an idea. I went into my office and found my old address book. I found the number I was looking for and dialed. I got voice mail, no surprise. Anya Carter was always busy. She worked with Child Protection Services. I also knew she answered her voicemails while she drove to the ne xt appointment.

“Hey, Anya, a blast from the past, it’s Jill Gardner. Can you give me a call? I’ve got some questions about welfare checks.” I left her my number and set the phone down. I was at a standstill. At least with the compound. I went back to the Facebook group and looked for any over-the-top threats against the church o r Kane himself.

By the time I’d finished, I had ten names. Eight still were members and two had closed out their Facebook page or just stopped posting. I started with these two. I got hits on both w ith obituaries.

I bookmarked the pages, then looked at the other relatives listed on the obituaries and added t hem to my list.

If Greg didn’t have these names already, I might be adding them to his list of suspects to weed out. Then again, one of these people might just have acted on the threats they’d posted.

As I finished up the list, I went back to the group page and studied the posts that Tanner O’Dell had made. His wife had cleared out their joint bank accounts, cashed in her 401(k), and taken off to join the New Hope church. And she’d taken the younger son, J immy, with her.

Mr. O’Dell’s post said the older boy had been in school, but when his mom tried to pick him up in the middle of basketball practice he told her he’d get a ride from a friend. Then he’d called his dad to see why Mom had Jimmy in the car with a pile of suitcases. The post had the hashtag #thankgodforaft erschoolsports.

Now, the dad wanted his other son back. He’d filed for divorce and gotten full custody, so if Greg did find Tanner’s son at the compound, he could return him to his dad.

It all sounded too adversarial for a church, at least to me. Where was “turn the other cheek” and why did the Matthewses pretend to be living a simple life while dining at expensive restaurants? And have two mi llion in stock?

I didn’t think I was going to get very far with my internet research. I didn’t have anywhere to be until Tuesday morning when I would open the bookstore, so I decided to go shopping and fill our fridge. Maybe I’d get lucky; if I bought a full gallon of milk, Greg would solve the case today. If I didn’t buy food on the chance that we might be leaving sooner rather than later, the case would stay open. It just worked that way. I’d buy the stuff to make a pie as well. It would at least keep me busy. I could have my aunt clear out the fridge if we left town. Or Toby. Toby loved get ting free food.

I went through the fridge, discarding old stuff as I made my list. The farmers market was closed for the season, so I added fruits and vegetables to the list. I’d figure out which ones when I got to the store. Then I texted Greg and asked if he n eeded anything.

The reply I got made me curious. Can’t talk. Toby says we’re o ut of dog food.

I went into the laundry room. Toby was right. We were getting close to being out of Emma’s food. I added it and dryer shee ts to the list.

I checked the weather and found that it was going to be cool all day. I grabbed Emma’s leash. “You can come with me. You’ll have to stay in the car when I’m at the grocery store, but we’ll go to the dog food p lace together.”

Emma wagged her tail. She understood go. And probably dog food. But she’d be so excited when we hit the pet store. I took a couple of ice packs out of the freezer and put them in an insulated bag. I’d put them in the cooler we kept in the back of the Jeep fo r grocery runs.

But when we got to the car, there was no cooler. Someone had cleaned out the Jeep for the wedding. It took me a few more minutes to find it in the shed. By the time we got going, I was starving. But food would have to wait until we hit Bakerstown since there wasn’t a fast-foo d place nearby.

I’d share my fries with Emma. Neither one of us needed a full s leeve of fries.

I was just finishing up in the grocery store when I saw Molly. She had a couple of TV dinners in her basket as well as cereal, milk, and cookies. When she looked up at me, I saw she h ad a black eye.

“Molly, who hit you?” I reached up but s he turned away.

“I fell.” She tried to move past me but I gr abbed her cart.

“Did someone from the compound threaten you? I can call Greg right now.” I pulled out my phone. “Tha t’s not right.”

She held up a hand. “Stop. It wasn’t anyone from the compound. Let me explain, Jill. Can I call you Jill?”

I nodded and tucked the phone back into the pocket of my sweatshirt. “Yes. I’m Jill Gardner, I mean, Jill King. We just got married. Anyway, that’s not important . Who hit you?”

“Vince. The guy who was helping me find Carlie. He was agitated. He wanted to take her from the hospital. I told him this was Carlie’s decision. I saw in her eyes that she wanted to come with me, but I also saw confusion. I don’t want to push her. She’s still at the hospital but voluntarily now. She has an infection. She’s so thin.”

“Wait, Vince hit you?” Now I was concerned. Especially since this man was Amand a’s ex-husband.

“He called me a loser. A wimp. Then he hit me. And then he quit working for me. It saved me from having to fire him. Anyway, that was Sunday morning. I moved to an extended-stay hotel here in Bakerstown. I have a stove now.” She glanced at her buzzing phone. “And that’s him again. From his voicemails, he’s sorry and wants to continue to help me. I think he’s just afraid I’ll turn him i n to the cops.”

“You should.” I glanced out the large windows in the front of the store. I could see the Jeep and Emma, who was sitting in the driver’s seat, grinning. “My dog’s out in the car. I need to get going, but I could meet you for coffee in about an hour?”

“I’m fine. I’ll come to South Cove tomorrow. Will you be working at th e coffee shop?”

“Until eleven.” I paused, not wanting to scare her. “Maybe it’s better you don’t talk to Vince.”

“Not planning on it.” She snapped her fingers. “I need bread and jam. The room has a toaster and toast is my go-to snack. Especially with b lackberry jam.”

I watched her walk away and I got in line to check out. I needed to talk to Amanda. Without Greg around. If Vince would hit a woman he was working for, I bet he als o hit his wife.