Page 45 of Return to Whitmore
“Are you some kind of private investigator or something?”
“I am,” the man said, surprising her with his affirmation.
Charlotte leaned back in the booth and crossed her arms. “What makes you think I’ll tell you anything?”
“You don’t have much in the way of cash, do you?” the investigator went on. “My client is willing to make it worth your while.”
“I would never turn anyone in for cash,” Charlotte stammered. “Anyone who thinks I would doesn’t know me that well.”
Again, she thought of Tio Angelo, who had never really gotten to know any of his nieces or nephews. Apparently, he’d been too busy running a massive drug ring out of the White Oak Lodge—and running from the law back in Italy.
The private investigator slipped a business card onto the table in front of her and got up. On it was a phone number, that was all. “Give me a call if you think of anything. My client’s offer still stands,” he said, buttoning his coat. “My client gives you their best until you meet again.”
Charlotte’s heart spasmed. “Who is it?” How dare they give me their best?
But before she could ask him again, the investigator slipped back into the dreary afternoon. She knew she would never call him. She tore up his card into itty-bitty pieces and tried to forget.
Chapter Nineteen
July 2025
Charlotte, Addison, and Nina packed their belongings, locked up the house on Madequecham Beach, bought snacks for the road, and made sure the kids buckled their seat belts. With that, they were en route, first to Fiona and Will’s camp, where they would return to swimming and horseback riding and bungee jumping and whatever else kids did when they had nothing to do but have fun. After that, the three adults would head to the airport, where Addison would fly back to Hawaii and Charlotte and Nina would fly to Rome.
For a little while, Charlotte allowed herself to pretend she was in the midst of a normal and fun family road trip. She played Fiona and Will’s favorite songs, laughed with them as she sang (badly) along to the words, and ate snacks till her belly hurt. Addison was playful and charming, sharing news about her own children, telling Fiona and Will how much they would like their cousins. Fiona and Will hadn’t known they had cousins on their mother’s side, and they demanded info from Addison, wantingto paint mental pictures of these three fun-loving strangers in Hawaii.
“I want to meet them!” Fiona cried.
“Me too,” Will said.
“One day,” Nina promised, smiling back at them. “We’ll all go to Hawaii and see Aunt Addison again. I promise.”
“Or maybe we’ll come to Nantucket again!” Addison said. “We’ll bring your Uncle Seth. You’ll love him.”
There was an ache to her voice that nearly shattered Charlotte’s heart.
When they reached the summer camp, Charlotte and Addison hung back by the car, watching as Nina said goodbye to her beautiful children, holding them extra-tight before they sped off to see their friends again. When Nina returned, she had tears in her eyes.
“I wanted them to have a great summer, to get away from all the stress of me and Daniel and everything that’s been going wrong,” Nina said nervously. “But I didn’t know they’d handle it this well. It’s like they don’t need me.”
Charlotte threw her arms around her little sister and held her close. “They’re like you, Nina. You were so brave and independent. I’ll never forget how amazed we all were by you, our brilliant little sister, who was up against everything back then.”
Nina beamed, “I wonder what Francesca will say when she sees me again. I’m like a bad nightmare she was able to send away.”
Charlotte’s stomach tightened into knots. “You don’t have to go with me.”
“I want to,” Nina said. “I want to put together more pieces of the puzzle. I want to know how much she knows about the fire, how much she helped cover up.”
Charlotte got in the passenger seat, groaning. “On the phone, she said her husband and son are dead. That’s what she told the private investigator.”
“It’s easy to say whatever you want to believe,” Nina said. “But I want to look her in the eye and tell her that there aren’t any death certificates. I want her to tell us why. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll finally tell me who my birth mother is.”
Charlotte hadn’t thought of that in a while. It remained a secret, buried as deep as the supposed “Whitmore” treasure.
Who was Nina’s birth mother?
At the airport, Charlotte was surprised when Addison burst into tears. She burrowed her face into Charlotte’s neck and whispered, “I wanted to find him. Why didn’t I find him?” But her kids were waiting for her back in Hawaii. She couldn’t wait any longer. She had to go.
Charlotte and Nina held Addison’s shoulders and spoke gently but firmly.
