Shit. Hold on. She was shattering, falling apart, and she couldn't do that yet.

Freiland handed her a handkerchief. "Can you make it?"

It was only then that she realized tears were running down her cheeks. She nodded jerkily as she wiped her eyes. "I'll make it." But that memory of Conner had splintered what little self-control she still had, and she felt as if she were bleeding inside. She didn't know how long she'd be able to keep from breaking down. Her pace quickened. "Come on, I have to get to the inn and call Cathy right away."

Cathy arrived at the inn seven hours later.

She entered Hannah's room without knocking. She was small and thin, but no one usually noticed her lack of stature because of her boundless vitality. Today, she looked very fragile. She was haggard, her short, brown hair clinging limply around her pale face, her dark eyes red from weeping. "He's dead. I didn't believe you. But he's really dead."

Hannah got up from her chair and came toward her. "Cathy…"

Cathy shook her head and stepped back before Hannah could take her in her arms. "No, don't touch me yet. I can't break down again. I have to ask you some questions first."

"It's no use. I don't have any answers yet."

"Don't tell me that. I just saw what used to be my husband in that morgue downtown. I have to have answers."

"Oh, Christ, I told you not to go to see him."

"And I told you, I didn't believe you. I called Bradworth and asked him to meet me at the morgue. I had to see Conner for myself." She drew a deep shaky breath. "I couldn't make any sense of it."

"Neither can I."

"But you must know something. This couldn't have just happened out of the blue." Cathy's voice vibrated with intensity. "Why? "

"I'll find out. I promise you." Hannah's voice broke. "Don't you think I'm asking myself the same questions? Cathy, I'd never have brought Conner on board any job that would have endangered him. I loved him."

The tears were suddenly flowing down Cathy's cheeks. "Oh, shit. I know you did." She went into Hannah's arms, and whispered, "I couldn't tell the kids. How could I? When I couldn't believe it myself. What was I to say? Your daddy got his head blown off and won't be home anymore? He won't be there to watch your next game or be proud when you go to your first prom or see you grow up or-" She broke off, sobbing. "I don't know how to tell them. I don't know how to make sense out of something that's-"

"We'll figure it out." Hannah's arms tightened around her. "Are they with your mother?"

"Yes, but I'll have to go back and make arrangements for the memorial service. Conner wanted to be cremated, you know."

"Yes." She hesitated. "But they may not release the body if there's an investigation."

"Bradworth said there wouldn't be a problem," Cathy said dully. "He said they had all the evidence they needed. They'll autopsy and check for DNA. It's not as if they're going to have to determine the cause of death." She shuddered. "He said if we wouldn't make any statements to the media, he'd try to keep them in the dark about this monstrosity until later. He even offered to make the arrangements with the crematory."

She stiffened. "Did you agree?"

"Why not? I wanted it over." She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. "I don't want my kids bothered by reporters, and I didn't want Conner to stay in that… place. He hated funeral homes. He wanted his ashes thrown out to sea."

"It's just a surprise that Bradworth would approach you about arrangements at a moment like that."

"He only asked me what I intended to do about-Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was weird. But he's giving me what I want, and that's all that's-I can't talk any more about it, Hannah. Not now."

Hannah didn't want to dwell on those arrangements either. She'd thought she'd gotten control of her emotions in those seven hours of tears and heartache when she'd been waiting for Cathy. But the practicalities were too harsh and made the wounds sting anew. "Then let's not talk at all. Do you want to take a nap? I'll call your mother."

She shook her head. "I can't-" She moistened her lips. "The questions have to be answered, but I can't think any more about them now. I have to get that memory of Conner lying on that slab out of my mind. I don't want to ever remember him like that. I… want to talk about him. Not his death. Not what they did to him. Can we do that, Hannah?"

Hannah nodded and wiped her own eyes. "I'd like that, too." She pushed Cathy down on the bed and pulled a blanket up around her. Then she curled up in the chair beside the bed. "You're right, we have to remember who he was, the difference he made to our lives."

"You start. I can't seem to stop crying."

Neither could Hannah. "What do you want to-Shall I tell you about Conner when we were children together?"

"Whatever you like."

No, those golden childhood memories would be too poignant for Hannah, and Cathy would not be able to relate to them. Start with something current.

"Do you know what he said when I wanted to take that gray sweater away from him? He said, no way. That it brought back memories and warmed his heart. And then he smiled, and that smile warmed my heart…"

"He's gone." Cathy gazed into the sea, where she'd poured the ashes. "So quick. I've been dreading this moment, but now I want it back." She turned toward her sister-in-law but Hannah wasn't sure Cathy really saw her. "Isn't that strange?"

"Are you okay?"

Cathy shook her head. "I don't know if I'll ever be okay again." Her voice held a note of wonder. "How can I live without him?"

"Ronnie. Donna."

Cathy nodded, her gaze going to her mother, who was standing with the children across the deck. "I know. They need me. I should be with them now. I want them to remember me holding them when they think back on this. The ship's already heading back to the dock."

"Are you going back to Boston right away?"

She nodded. "My mother has her SUV parked at the dock, and we'll leave as soon as we get off the boat. The sooner I get the kids back to a normal schedule, the healthier for them." She looked down into the water again for a long moment. "It's not really good-bye, Conner," she whispered. "You'll be with me every day of my life. You know that." She straightened her shoulders and turned to look at Hannah again. "I'm being selfish. It's been all about me. You're hurting too."

"Oh, yes. Big-time." She tried to smile. "But you're entitled."

"I'm entitled to something else, too. You promised me answers. I want those answers. And I also want the man who killed my husband to burn in hell." She stared Hannah directly in the eye. "Keep your promise."

"I will."

"Bradworth told me you couldn't remember anything about those plates. Were you telling him the truth?"

"Yes. I can't recall anything connected to that night without going into a mental tailspin. I've told you before that I can't isolate a specific memory. Everything overlaps and runs together. I can't think of the plates without thinking about that last night with Conner." She said unevenly, "And it may be a while before I have the guts to do that. I'm sorry, Cathy."

"Nothing to be sorry about. I doubt if I could do it either. Then we'll just find a way to get Conner's killer without knowing about the plates. I'll help you all I can, but Ronnie and Donna have to come first." She paused. "I trust you, Hannah. Don't let me down." She didn't wait for a reply as she started toward her son and daughter.

Hannah took a step closer to the rail and looked down into the water. A thousand memories of Conner bombarded her.

"I won't let her down, Conner," she murmured. "And I won't let you down. I swear it."