Faith looked in confusion from her mother’s amazed expression to Shelby’s grim face. ‘You two know each other?’

‘Yes. Well, I’ll be darned,’ said Peggy. ‘It’s a small world, isn’t it?’

Shelby was staring at the woman in disbelief. No, she thought. Not that small. How could it be? She did not understand it, and she could not organize the cacophony of thoughts in her head.

Peggy’s surprise seemed perfectly genuine. But her genial amazement turned to wariness in the face of Shelby’s silence and her frozen expression.

‘How do you know each other?’ Faith asked.

‘We met when Dad and I were on the cruise,’ said Peggy.

‘You were on the same cruise?’ Faith asked.

Shelby tore her gaze from Peggy’s face and blinked at Faith as if she had just awakened. ‘No. It wasn’t me who was on the cruise. My daughter was. She died on that cruise,’ she said.

‘Mrs Sloan’s daughter was the one who fell off the boat,’ Peggy confided sadly.

Faith gasped. ‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs Sloan. I didn’t know. My mother told me a woman fell off the boat. I just never realized . . .’

‘Talia never said a word about it?’ Shelby cried. ‘That was her niece.’

‘No.’ Faith looked almost guilty. ‘She doesn’t really talk about personal things,’ she said.

My God, Shelby thought with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. Even for Talia, that level of indifference was difficult to imagine. In Talia’s mind, Chloe’s death had not been worth mentioning to her own assistant.

‘She did send me to the CVS to pick up a sympathy card for her,’ said Faith. ‘But that wasn’t for you, I’m sure. No, of course not.’

Yes, Shelby thought. It was. The thought of it made her furious.

‘What an amazing coincidence,’ said Peg. ‘I mean, to think that we were on that same trip where your daughter . . . Well, what are the odds?’

Shelby turned to Faith. ‘Did Talia know that your parents were on that cruise?’

‘I don’t know. Wait. As a matter of fact, I think I did tell her. I mean, I thought it was an interesting story, about my parents spending time with the woman who fell off the boat. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was your daughter,’ Faith said, grimacing apologetically. ‘And she never said anything.’

‘Maybe she didn’t put two and two together,’ Peg offered hopefully.

No, Shelby thought. That’s impossible. Even for Talia. She was used to Talia treating the circumstances of her life as insignificant. But this was no ordinary circumstance. The parents of Talia’s assistant were the last people to see Shelby’s daughter alive. You would have to be stupid not to make the connection. And whatever else she might be, Talia was not stupid.

‘Have you had any news?’ Peggy asked kindly. ‘Anything at all?’

Shelby’s gaze returned to Peggy. ‘No,’ she said.

‘We thought it was just awful the way the boat continued on after that,’ Peggy said, shaking her head. ‘We didn’t feel right about that. Virgie and I couldn’t get over it. People carrying on as if nothing had happened.’

Shelby was having difficulty forming the words for a response. All she could think about was their mutual connection to Talia. It was a coincidence that she could not reconcile. But, how could these people be involved? They seemed utterly guileless.

‘We got a card from Virgie and Don the other day. Do you remember Virgie and Don Mathers? They were the other couple . . .’

‘Yes,’ said Shelby.

Peggy sighed and shook her head. ‘Lovely people. Salt of the earth.’

Faith glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Well, Mom, we better be going. I’ve got to get back for class.’

‘You’re right,’ said Peggy. She reached out a soft, dry hand and placed it over Shelby’s. ‘I’m glad to see you again,’ she said. ‘I never stopped praying for your Chloe.’ There was something here that Shelby didn’t know. Something that she needed to know. Perhaps, she thought, she was grasping at straws, still trying to make some sense of Chloe’s death. But she couldn’t just dismiss the fact that the Ridleys provided some kind of bizarre connection between Chloe’s death and her life here at home. After all, she reminded herself, wasn’t that why she had pored over the photos of people on board the ship? She was searching for a connection and now, here it was, even thought she had no idea what it meant. Shelby had to make a quick decision. ‘Faith,’ she said. ‘I can take your mother home. Why don’t you let me drive her and you can head back to the lab. Or . . . wherever . . .’

Peggy frowned. ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘We couldn’t ask you to do that.’

‘Please, I’d like to,’ said Shelby. ‘You were so kind to me in St Thomas. It’s no trouble. Where do you live?’

‘It’s a bad neighborhood,’ said Faith apologetically.

‘You grew up there,’ Peggy chided her.

‘Still . . .’ said Faith.

‘Where is it?’ Shelby demanded. She felt shaky and unsure of herself. She did not know what, if anything, she was hoping to find by taking this woman all the way across town. At the very least, she reassured herself, it was an opportunity to spend a little more time with the people who had last seen her daughter alive. Maybe in their last conversations Chloe had said something illuminating. Something that would help Shelby to understand.

‘South Philly,’ said Faith. ‘It’s called Hector. It’s off of South Fourth Street.’

‘Sure, I know it,’ said Shelby. ‘We used to live in South Philly when my Chloe was a little girl. I know just where it is.’

Faith looked relieved. She turned to her mother. ‘I could use the extra time on this research.’

Peggy hesitated, and then nodded. ‘OK, honey. You go ahead,’ she said.

‘I’ll take good care of her,’ Shelby promised.

Faith embraced her mother. ‘Give Dad a hug for me. Tell him I’ll see him soon,’ said Faith.

Peggy held her daughter’s arms and looked at her seriously. ‘Don’t forget. You know how he is. He needs bucking up.’

‘I won’t forget.’

‘Shall we go?’ said Shelby.

Peggy settled into the seat like a plump, feathery bird on her nest. She carefully put on her seat belt and folded her hands in her lap.

‘This is really very nice of you,’ said Peggy. ‘My Faith works so hard. Too hard if you ask me. She and her husband bought a house that they’re fixing up themselves. She’s trying to finish that degree. Plus, she works for Dr Winter. And she has a part-time job cleaning houses on Saturdays.’

‘That is a lot,’ said Shelby.

Peggy sighed. ‘That’s for sure. And now she’s trying to help me out as well. Bud, my husband, is not well. Do you remember Bud?’

‘Of course,’ said Shelby. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

Peggy sighed. ‘He has a very serious condition. Lou Gehrig’s disease.’

Shelby thought about the man she had met in the St Thomas police station. He had looked perfectly healthy. Rather robust even. And yet, Lou Gehrig’s disease was about as grim a prognosis as one could receive. ‘It just happened? Since you got back?’ Shelby asked.

‘Oh no. We’ve known about it for a couple of months,’ said Peggy. ‘He hardly has any symptoms yet. Most of the time he feels perfectly well. But, he has days . . . I keep thinking that if he remains in good health long enough, they may find a cure. He doesn’t seem to have any optimism left though. I guess, maybe, when we had the cruise to look forward to, we were thinking about that. But now he’s just very down. Hardly leaves the house.’

As Peggy talked, Shelby was driving south through the city, passing from the trendy neighborhood around the hospital through the bustling Italian Market area, now mostly Asian in flavor, and into the huge residential swathe of the city known as South Philly. Close to Washington Street, the two-story row homes were plain but well kept, with trees planted along the sidewalks. As she drove farther south, towards Snyder, the curbs became strewn with litter, and the run-down blocks were pockmarked with boarded-up buildings, covered with graffiti. One fact was inescapable. The Ridleys had just been on an expensive cruise. And yet, one had to be poor to live in this neighborhood. Nobody would ever live here by choice.

She found Hector Street. It was a narrow, one-way street. It was in better condition than some they had passed, but food wrappers and cigarette butts were wadded up on the sewer grates, thuggish teenagers clustered on the corner, and cars with duct-taped roofs and windows were parked along the curb.

Shelby parked a few doors down from the Ridleys’ house. As she got out of the car and came around to the passenger side to open the door for Peggy, she was trying to think of a tactful way to frame the troubling question that was emerging in her mind. Finally, she said, ‘Well, it was lucky that you had the means to take that cruise before your husband got any sicker.’

‘Oh heavens,’ Peggy chuckled as she allowed Shelby to help her out of the seat and accepted the cane which Shelby retrieved from the back seat. ‘We could never have afforded that cruise. Not in a million years.’

‘Oh?’ said Shelby, although she was not truly surprised.

‘No,’ Peggy scoffed. ‘My husband won that cruise in a contest.’

‘Really,’ said Shelby.

‘I know. Wasn’t that lucky? Sometimes it seems like everything is going wrong. And then, something good happens.’

They had crossed the sidewalk and arrived at the foot of the steps leading up to the Ridleys’ house. ‘I can’t thank you enough,’ said Peggy. ‘This was so nice of you.’

‘Here,’ said Shelby. ‘Let me help you inside.’

‘Oh, I can manage,’ said Peggy.

‘No, I promised Faith,’ said Shelby.

Peggy beamed. ‘Bless your heart. Can you stay for a cup of coffee?’

Shelby tried to sound nonchalant. ‘Sure. A quick half a cup.’

‘Good,’ said Peggy, as Shelby helped her, one by one, up the steps. The front windows looked blank, covered, as they were, with closed drapes discolored by years of sun, except for a dusty arrangement of fake flowers in a greenish urn which was propped on the inside window sill. Peggy unlocked the front door, opened it, and called out ‘Bud, I’m back.’ There was no answer.

Then she turned to Shelby. ‘Come. Come on in.’

Inside the house was dimly lit and tidy. Peggy indicated a well-worn chair at the scarred dining table. ‘So, coffee?’ Peggy asked. ‘It’s instant.’

‘Sure,’ said Shelby, although she was not thirsty. Now that she was seated in the Ridleys’ home, she felt more confused than ever. These were people of the most modest means who had won their trip in a contest. It was purely a stroke of luck in an unlucky life. How could it have anything to do with Chloe’s death? She did not even know what questions to ask.

Peggy limped back to the kitchen. Shelby looked around the tiny living room and dining area. It was a virtual shrine to Faith. Every wall and surface had photographs of her, from baby pictures to wedding photos of Faith, in a sensible knee-length dress and a short veil, holding a bouquet and tilting her head toward her gentle-looking husband. She had not been a young bride, but she was beaming with contentment in the photos. In a few moments Peggy returned with a steaming mug, and set it down in front of Shelby.

‘Aren’t you having any?’ Shelby asked.

Peggy shook her head. ‘Makes me need to pee. And the bathroom’s upstairs.’

Shelby nodded, and blew on the steaming liquid. ‘So, you won that cruise in a contest.’

‘I didn’t win it,’ said Peggy. ‘Bud did. Some sports radio station he listens to. You had to be the twentieth caller or something. At first I wanted to see if we could trade it in for the money, so we could help Faith and her husband out with the house. The place needs all new appliances and everything. And he’s got two kids from his first marriage so the money is always tight.’

‘Sure,’ said Shelby. But she wasn’t thinking about Faith’s finances. She was thinking about the probability of someone winning such an expensive prize from a call-in radio contest. Shelby worked in the retail business. She knew a thing or two about advertising expenses. There was something wrong with this explanation.

‘Bud wouldn’t hear of it. He insisted that we go. We’d never been on a real vacation like that. When Faith was little we took some trips in the car, but then Bud lost his job. And I had my accident – it was always something.’

‘I know how that is,’ said Shelby absently.

‘I’m glad we went,’ said Peggy. ‘We have good memories to look back on.’

‘That’s good,’ said Shelby.

‘I wonder where he is,’ Peggy fretted. ‘I did ask him to get me some coleslaw. Maybe he walked down to the corner deli. He hardly leaves the house anymore. He’s very depressed. Well, who wouldn’t be? Here he’s been worrying about me all these years and then boom. But I tell him, look, you never know. It could take years for this thing to progress. Meantime, you can’t spend the rest of your life hiding in the house.’

Shelby sipped at the coffee. ‘No, of course not,’ she said.

‘Usually I volunteer in the morning at the church. My friend, Judy, picks us up and we have lunch there. We know everybody there. Bud used to enjoy it himself. But now he doesn’t want to go anymore.’

There was a sound of a key turning in a lock, and Peggy looked up at the front door. ‘There he is,’ she said, with real relief in her voice.

The front door opened, and Bud Ridley came in, a newspaper tucked under his arm, carrying a small, brown paper bag. He did not look like a sick man. He had the same hearty appearance that Shelby remembered from the police station in St Thomas, but the expression in his eyes was weary.

‘Hey honey,’ said Peggy. ‘Guess what?’

‘What?’ Bud asked, tucking his keys into his pants pocket.

‘You’ll never believe who’s here.’

‘Who?’ Bud demanded.

Shelby stood up and turned to face him.

Bud stared at her, and then recoiled, his eyes wide, as if he’d seen a ghost. He let out a strangled cry, dropping the bag and his newspaper.

‘Bud,’ Peggy exclaimed. ‘What’s the matter with you? That’s spilling all over the rug.’

The carton of coleslaw in the brown bag had burst open and dumped out on the floor. The oily dressing was seeping into the well-worn carpet. Bud did not seem to notice. His face was a deathly white.

Shelby’s heart began to race. His reaction was not simply surprise. It was something much greater. The sight of her had sent him into a complete panic. Why? ‘Hello Bud.’

Bud’s mouth opened and closed, like a fish. ‘How did you find us?’ he gasped.

‘Find you?’ Shelby asked.

‘Faith,’ said Peggy. ‘Faith’s boss is Shelby’s sister. How is that for a strange coincidence?’

Bud averted his eyes, as if he was afraid to look at Shelby.

‘Did you have one of those spells of weakness, honey?’ Peggy fretted. ‘You haven’t had one in a while. It’s all right. Don’t worry. These things happen.’

Bud shook his head.

‘I better clean this up,’ Peggy sighed.

‘I’ll do it,’ said Bud, avoiding Shelby’s gaze.

Shelby was electrified by his discomfort. By his fear. Suspicion sharpened all her senses. There was a secret here. She could feel it. She was sure. She just didn’t know how to confront him. How did you happen to be with my daughter, just before she died? she wanted to ask. How did you come to be on that boat? On that same cruise. And then, suddenly, she knew what to ask. ‘Bud, Peggy was just telling me about how you won that cruise from a radio station,’ said Shelby. ‘I have to start listening to that station myself. What station was it?’

Bud did not answer. He scurried past her into the kitchen. Peggy was shaking her head at the mess on the floor. Shelby stood in the dreary living room, feeling like a tireless explorer at the hidden portal to an ancient tomb. The look on Bud’s face at that first, unexpected sight of her, told her that she had stumbled on to the secret she was seeking. And no matter what it took, she was going to pry that secret loose.