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“Ted Wilkerson is coming in later this afternoon,” I said. “Ted’s finally moving to the Outer Banks. He wants to settle his bill in person.”

Dad had represented Ted Wilkerson for over twenty years. He was one of the last legal clients still needing to be wrapped up. If it made my father feel melancholy, he didn’t show it. He walked over to the empty reception desk and squared the desk blotter.

We needed an office manager. This was a bone of contention between us. Dad’s longtime secretary had proven unreliable, to say the least. Dad was reluctant to trust someone new. So was I. But every minute I spent not working a case, I had to handle all the administrative tasks as well. Bottom line, I had no life outside these four walls anymore. It needed to change.

“I’m sorry,” Dad said, out of the blue. He walked over to me. His eyes reddened. My breath caught. Something was bothering him more deeply than his banged-up car. I could feel it.

“What do you have to be sorry about?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. “It’s too much. I’m a selfish old fool.”

“I like it here.” And I did. It had taken a while. But Helene had grown on me. Dad and I lived on a private island out in the bay. It wasn’t what I originally planned for myself, but it had turned out to be perfect.

For now.

“You don’t need to sit in on Wilkerson,” he said. “I’m sure you have a hundred better things to do. I can handle Ted on my own. Why don’t you cut out early? Take the boat. I’ll get Kobe to take me home.”

Kobe worked at the marina and as a hired deckhand and sometimes Uber driver. He did so many things for my dad we should probably put him on the payroll. I had no doubt Kobe would do exactly what Dad needed. Everyone in Helene looked out for Tom Gale.

“I have plenty of things to catch up on here,” I said. The wrecked Five Hundred bothered me. I couldn’t let on. Dad dealt with his diagnosis in waves. Some days he was practical. Others, like today, he wanted to deny it existed. “I’ll just be in my office if you need me.”

I expected Dad to toddle off to his corner office. Instead, he just stood there, staring at the empty desk in front of him.

“I can cancel Ted,” I said. “If you’re feeling tired or just not up to it.”

He didn’t answer. I knew not to press the issue. He needed space. Things got worse when I hovered. I went back to my office and shut the door.

Hoping he couldn’t hear me, I dialed Dr. Lorraine Ricci’s number. Her service put me on hold. A few minutes went by and I heard the front door open and voices. Ted Wilkerson must be early.

A moment later, Dad knocked on my door. I quickly hung up on the doctor’s office.

“Kiddo,” he said. “You’ve got a hot one out here.”

“A what?”

“Lady out front says she wants to talk to you. A walk-in.”

I groaned on the inside. We’d talked about this. Dad kept letting in strays. It wasn’t how I liked to work. Dad ducked his head out rather than respond to my glare. A moment later, he came back with a young woman roughly my age. She had auburn hair and a sad smile.

“Here she is,” Dad said. “This is my daughter, Mercy.”

If Dad had asked for her name, he didn’t seem to remember it now. There was an awkward silence. Then the woman gave me a nervous smile and stepped forward.

“My name is Geneva Bell,” she said. She said it with an inflection that made it sound like the name should mean something. Behind her, my father grimaced. Did he know her?

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Should I know you?”

She shot a glance back at my father. He gave her a tight-lipped nod that made it clear to me he did know who she was. “I thought everyone around here still did. I suppose that’s a good sign,” she said.

“How can I help you, Ms. Bell?” I said, meeting my father’s eyes.

“I’m Geneva Bell,” she repeated.

“She’s one of the Deadwater Five,” Dad said. The Deadwater Five? There was some flicker of recognition in the recesses of my brain. Geneva winced when he said it.

“I never should have come back here,” she said. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

“Ms. Bell, please. Why don’t you have a seat and tell me what’s going on? I didn’t grow up in Helene. I’m sorry if I’m unfamiliar with your story.”