“Caroline, I could kiss you!” she said.

Caroline stared at her as if she’d gone nuts. “What?”

She decided she still didn’t feel ready to share what was proving to be only a nightmare, however terrifying, with anyone else. She’d already made a fool of herself in front of Caleb.

“This photograph. It explains everything,” Sarah said. Caroline was still looking at her blankly, so Sarah smiled and went on. “Don’t you see—I’ve been wary of him because somewhere in my subconscious I remembered this photo. Now I understand why he seemed so familiar, so…” She faltered, at a loss for a way to pull things together. “Now it all just makes so much sense,” she finished lamely.

“That’s all you can think of to say? You’ve got to be kidding,” Caroline said.

“No, I’m not kidding. Why?”

“Didn’t you hear me? This is uncanny.”

“I admit, the resemblance is startling.”

“It’s more than a resemblance. There’s got to be a genetic connection. I mean, how else could Caleb possibly look so much like Cato? His great, great, great…whatever grandfather must have been Cato MacTavish, who used to own your house. Maybe it’s destiny that Caleb’s here now. We have to show him the picture. We have to tell him about it,” Caroline said excitedly, and then her smile faded. “Although I have to admit, when I came across the picture today, my…mind went a little crazy. For a minute there I actually thought maybe Cato was back from the dead to take vengeance on the people who drove him away.”

“Oh, Caroline…”

“Well…you have to admit it’s pretty weird. I mean, Cato’s double shows up in the city when all this…stuff is happening.”

“Caroline, Caleb is here searching for a girl who disappeared a year ago, and then he plunged right into the efforts to look for the girl who only just disappeared, but be reasonable. He wasn’t here when either one of them disappeared,” Sarah said, then looked away for a moment. She’d been scared for a minute herself when she first saw the photograph, yet here she was, completely prepared to defend Caleb Anderson with all the passion she had.

And it wasn’t because he was good-looking and articulate, not to mention capable, charming and charismatic.

He worked for Adam Harrison, and that meant he was the one thing that really mattered: a good man.

“I know. I realized right away that I was being ridiculous. I can’t wait to show the picture to him, though. There’s obviously some connection here. He has to be related somehow to Cato MacTavish. I know—when Cato MacTavish left St. Augustine, he changed his name to Anderson.”

Sarah shook her head, smiling. “Even if he is somehow related—and I admit it looks likely—the connection might have come down through the maternal line.”

“Maybe. But I’ll have to research it later. Right now I have to get back out there and talk about Henry Flagler,” Caroline said, glancing at her watch. “What’s up at your house today, by the way?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been at the library, but I think I’ll head back home now. And, Caroline, I don’t think you should look into Caleb’s connection to Cato here at the museum.”

“Why not?”

“Because…Caleb is here on business. I don’t think he’d want to become a sideshow oddity.”

“You’re right.” Caroline studied the photograph for a long moment, then offered it to Sarah. “You hold on to it.”

“Thank you, Caroline.”

Caroline looked at her and smirked. “You’re really going to go back to the library to try to trace Caleb Anderson’s background, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Caroline studied her. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Sarah said, then hesitated for a moment. She felt silly for keeping secrets and decided to confide in her. “Caroline, here’s what’s so strange. I must have remembered this photograph in the back in my mind somewhere, because last night I had a nightmare about this man, dressed just this way, standing at the foot of my bed, telling me that he was innocent.”

“Innocent?”

“I didn’t know what it could have meant then, but now that I know this is Cato, I think he meant he was innocent of kidnapping and killing those girls.”

“How bizarre.” Caroline grinned suddenly. “Did you think you were dreaming about Caleb all dressed up or something?”

Sarah grimaced and said, “Actually, I thought it was really him and he’d broken into the carriage house. I went over to Bertie’s and burst in on him, and accused him of trying to scare me half to death.”

Caroline gasped, then laughed. “You didn’t! What on earth did he say? No, wait. More importantly, does he sleep in the buff?”

“No.” Sarah said. She hesitated. “He was wearing boxers.”

“Still…oh, Sarah!” Caroline started to laugh.

“Stop it.”

“Sorry. So—does he think you’re crazy? Too crazy to maybe go out with? Wait—how did he look?”

Sarah paused, then admitted, “He looked damned good. Now let me out the back,” Sarah said. “I don’t want to run in to anyone right now. Be sure to lock the door behind me.”

“Okay, okay, come on.”

Sarah had just stepped outside when Caroline stopped her. “Sarah?”

“What?” Sarah asked, turning back.

Caroline was grinning. “Go for it. If he looks good in boxers, chances are he looks equally good out of them.”

Sarah groaned and made her escape.

Nigel Mason looked like a typical high school kid, hovering between adolescence and adulthood. He was tall, and extremely lean and lanky, with long hair that he had tied back and covered with a bandana as he served ice cream. Caleb recognized him instantly from his picture in the file Tim Jamison had given him.

He observed the boy before approaching the window. He saw Nigel perk up when a trio of young women came to the stand, and after they had paid and departed, he leaned an elbow on the counter and looked glum.

Caleb approached him. “Nigel?”

Nigel looked up and straightened, a wary look coming into his eyes.

“Yes?”

Caleb offered him a handshake. “Hi. My name is Caleb Anderson.”

“You another cop?” Nigel asked.

“Private investigator.”

A flash of pain crossed Nigel’s features, making him young and vulnerable all of a sudden. He looked around for a moment, as if praying for someone to come over to buy ice cream. “You’re here about Winona, aren’t you?” he asked Caleb.

“Yes.”

“I wish I knew something,” Nigel said.

“Can you just tell me about the night she was last seen? I’m coming in fresh, and something might hit me that the cops missed, or maybe you’ll remember something new.”

Nigel looked around again, still hopeful that a customer would appear from nowhere. “I wish I knew something,” he repeated.

“Anything that you know will help me. Where were you? Who was there? What was the night like? Like I said, I’m not a cop. I’m not going to turn anyone in, or tell anyone’s folks they were drinking or smoking pot or anything else,” Caleb assured him.

Nigel inhaled deeply, then exhaled loudly, as if he’d made a decision. “Okay, so we had this party at the beach—out on Anastasia Island, not far over the bridge. There’s a place that’s kind of off the beaten track. We had a bonfire going, and…and yeah, there was booze and grass.” He went quiet, remembering.

“You dated Winona for a while, right?” Caleb asked, prodding him.

“Yeah, kind of. Last year. But it felt too weird. We’d gone to grade school together, you know?”

“There were no hard feelings when you split up?”

“Hell, no.” He stared at Caleb suddenly. “You think I could have done something to her?” he asked incredulously.

“No,” Caleb assured him. His gut told him that this kid couldn’t have carried off a white lie, much less an abduction. “I’m just wondering if she would have confided in you. If she would have told you that she was going to run away, for instance. Or if she was meeting someone.”