Page 55 of The Shape of Night

He leans closer, his eyes laser-sharp. “Can you think of anyone who might have done this? Aside from some nameless teenager?”

“No. But if it also happened to Charlotte, could it be the same person?”

“We have to consider all the possibilities.”

All the possibilities.I look back and forth at the two men, whose silence only makes me more agitated. “Whatdidhappen to Charlotte?” I ask. “I know she was found floating in the bay, but how did she die?”

“All we can tell you is this is a homicide investigation.”

My cellphone rings, but I don’t even bother to look at who’s calling; I let it go to voicemail and stay focused on the detectives.

“Were there bruises?” I ask. “Did the killer leave any marks?”

Vaughn says, “Why are you asking, ma’am?”

“I’m just trying to understand why you’re so certain it was murder. How do you know she didn’t just fall off a boat and drown?”

“There was no seawater in her lungs. She was dead before her body entered the water.”

“But it could still be an accident. Maybe she fell on the rocks. Hit her head and—”

“It was not an accident. She was strangled.” He watches as I take in this information, no doubt wondering if these details are more than I can handle and he’ll have a hysterical woman on his hands. But I sit perfectly still as I consider what he’s just told me. There’s so much more I want to know. Were there broken bones? Bruises left by real hands made of real flesh? Can mere ectoplasm kill a woman?

Could Captain Brodie?

I look down at my left wrist, remembering the bruise that has since faded. A bruise that I found the morning after my first encounter with the ghost. Had I caused that bruise myself while stumbling around in a drunken stupor, as I have on more than one occasion? Or was that bruise the evidence that he can inflict real harm on the living?

“Have there been other break-ins since the night you called the Tucker Cove police?” Detective Perry asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

“Anyone calling you, harassing you?”

“No.”

“We understand from Ms. Branca that there’s been some carpentry work done here recently.”

“Yes, up in the turret and the widow’s walk. They’ve already finished the renovations.”

“How well do you know the carpenters?”

“I saw Billy and Ned almost every day for weeks, so I’d say we’re well acquainted.”

“Did you spend much time talking to them?”

“I used them as my guinea pigs.” At Vaughn’s raised eyebrow, I give a laugh. “I’m a cookbook author. I’m writing a book about traditional New England foods and I’ve been testing recipes. Billy and Ned were always happy to sample the results.”

“Did either one of them ever make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No. I trusted them enough to let them come and go even when I wasn’t here.”

“They had a key to the house?”

“They knew where to find it. I left the spare key for them on top of the doorjamb.”

“So one of them could have made a copy of that key.”

I shake my head in bewilderment. “Why are you asking about them?”

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