Neal looked off into the distance. “I really did love her. Emily. She gave birth to our daughter seventeen years ago, but died from hemorrhage, leaving me all of her inheritance. Emily was the only heir left to the Forsyth money-but it wasn’t nearly enough for Mother.”

So to disguise himself, Neal took his wife’s maiden name and their baby. Oh…my…God. I looked him in the eye. “You are the father? Of…Lydia.”

He didn’t even acknowledge the fact but merely said, “She was too much a reminder of her mother. I couldn’t love her.” He looked off into space and muttered, “The goddamn baby was too much of a reminder of what I could have had. What I’d lost. Well, at least I got all of the Forsyth money and house.”

That’s it, Neal. The old glass was half full in theory.

So Lydia’s grandmother, not aunt, raised her. Or at least let her live in the same mansion, but grow up unloved.

But why not let her go to Yale?

I asked Neal that question, and after him mumbling a few seconds learned that Olivia kept all of them-Neal, Devin, Ian, and Lydia-on a very short rope. If Lydia moved away, she could draw attention to the family, such as it were, and maybe even uncover their moneymaking scheme.

That’s what Lydia had meant by only trusting family.

She knew about the fraud, but had no choice in the matter.

Poor kid. No wonder she talked of suicide.

“Does your daughter know who you are?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“No.”

“Good,” I mumbled. She was better off not knowing.

“So you pushed your brother off Cliff Walk so he wouldn’t go to the authorities?”

“He already had. How ironic. He knocks off Baines, who refused to pay for Daphne’s multiple surgeries, and then found out about the diagnosis scheme we used, yet Ian too was going to bail. Poor Mother.” Neal looked me in the eyes. “And you, Ms. Sokol, investigator, are the reason we are out here. You too are not going to be allowed to ruin Mother’s scheme.”

“How…why me, Neal? Why pay all that fund-raiser money to get me out here?”

He laughed. The eerie sound had me stiffen.

“Ah. The Chandlers are known for their generosity, Pauline. We needed to make sure to keep up our stellar image.”

Stellar my ass.

“Mother kept a close eye on things recently. She’d sent Ian to check out your room at the lodge.” He laughed. “He thought he’d scare you off with the lipstick message.”

Ian? Knowing he tried to scare me made it somehow hurt more. I thought back to the pictures in the office. Ian must have been the blond child with Olivia. And I guess nurse Jackie was innocent, and it was Ian who had knocked me out.

“Mother found out about you in her spying. Very smart lady my mother. Oh, don’t flatter yourself that I spend all that money on you. There is no scholarship, the ruse was merely to make you feel as if you had to go out with me at least one more time. You might say we ‘killed two birds with one stone’ by having all of Newport admire our generosity, and getting you out here. Sealed your fate, you did, you fool.”

Fool? Hey! Wait. Spying? I let my mind wander backward. “Lady Bandage,” I murmured and had to stop myself from clocking him after that “fool” comment. “So Dr. Cook worked with you on all this?”

“Ha. He’s what kept the suspicion from us.”

I had to agree with him there. Damn, even I’d fallen for believing Dr. Cook was the crook when Neal had obviously set it up that way. The guy was smart. I’d give him that. Sick but smart and the true meaning of the words “mama’s boy.”

My eyes shut a second as I tried to think. This guy was off the deep end, and if I didn’t do something soon, I’d be off the deep end of the boat. With all my force I kicked my knee into his groin, opened my eyes and pushed at his chest, sliding from under him just enough to grab the pink locket with its pepper spray.

Neal screamed out in pain and, taken off guard, fell to the floor where his head smacked against the bedside table. Blood spurted out onto the beige carpet, but I told myself that head wounds bled a lot and that I had to save myself.

No nursing the killers, Jagger had once said.

I needed my miracle.

Neal lay silently still.

I grabbed the pull rope of the drapes and yanked with strength I had no idea that I had.

Ring. Ring.

In the pocket of my jeans my cell phone went off.

Neal started to moan.

I grabbed my cell phone out, pushed the speaker button on and talked nonstop to whoever was on the line, telling him or her exactly what had happened and where I was-not even knowing the real location. I chattered on and on, never letting the other person say a word-then the line went blank.

But for a miracle, you don’t have to fill in all the blanks. You merely have to believe.

I pushed Neal over, ignored the gaping wound on the back of his head and tried to tie his hands together. In my nervousness my hands shook and I fumbled several times. Soon I had Neal’s hands near each other.

One hand reached out and grabbed me!

I screamed.

Neal swung around and with blood trickling down his forehead cursed at me in a low, guttural tone that sent chills racing up my spine and fear into my heart.

“You bitch!” he shouted and started to get up.

I pushed him back with all the Benadryl-laced strength that I could muster. Then I relied on my self-defense moves that Jagger had taught me-and stuck my fingers into Neal’s nostrils.

Barely able to complete the gross action, I did as I’d learned, and before I knew it, Neal was once again doubled over in pain. I then grabbed the rope, tied as tightly as I could, not forgetting his feet, and ran out of the room.

At the top of the stairs a set of arms seized me.

I screamed.

And I knew I was then going overboard to my death.

All went black.

“What the hell possessed you to come out on a boat? You couldn’t swim to save your life, Sherlock!”

I opened one eye, realized I was on Jagger’s lap still on Neal’s boat and must have died. If this was Heaven, I’d wasted way too many years of diligently going to church each Sunday.

Not that being on Jagger’s lap wasn’t Heaven, but he was chastising me and the setting was all wrong.

I rubbed at my forehead. “Don’t yell so loudly.”

Suddenly his voice softened, “I’m just so pissed that you could have…you could have-”

I looked up at Jagger to see his eyes teary and him not able to finish.

Worrying about me had Jagger speechless.

Oh…my…God.

This rush of pleasure made living through the experience with Neal all worth it.

As the Coast Guard called out from some bull-horn-since Jagger had called them right after my rambling cell phone call with him-he leaned over and kissed my lips, then tucked the pink locket into my hand.

“I can’t even take off a few days to go sailing on a quick trip to Martha’s Vineyard without you getting into trouble.”

“Hey, I didn’t get hurt.”

“Yeah, you did good, Sherlock.”

My heart soared.

Jagger blew out a deep breath. “I’d told Samuel to look after you.”

I chuckled. “I guess that’s why you called when you did. Who is he, Jagger?”

He looked off into the distance. “He lives in the lodge that I’d inherited many years ago. Samuel was my great-grandfather. Samuel Freeman Tonelli. He started the insurance company years ago…”

I knew Jagger was talking but I’d fixated on the word “Tonelli.”

Jagger Tonelli.

My boss.

My boss?

Shark bait was sounding better and better by the second.

My boss!