Page 28 of Holmes, Margaret and Poe

“Hope so.”

They went in to find Ali and Willow sitting on the couch in front of the TV, riveted by a documentary about an octopus and a snorkeler. The underwater colors were brilliant, otherworldly.

“Is that real?” Bree asked.

Ali stopped the show with the remote. “Yeah, that’s real! You’ve never seen anything like this, Bree!”

“We watched it three times,” Willow said brightly. “Dad, the octopus climbs on the man’s arm. It knows him.”

“Okay,” Sampson said.

“We’ll watch it when we get home, Daddy,” Willow announced, standing up. “I’ll get my stuff, and Nana Mama said I could take some cookies.”

“Go grab it all,” her dad said.

Willow ran into the dining room and started gathering her things from the table.

“You all right?” Sampson said to Bree.

Bree said, “Yeah, I’m just getting thrown around by this missing-person case Elena has me working on.”

“Tell me about it,” Sampson said. “We’re getting yanked in every direction. The Dead Hours and the shootdown. Back and forth all day. Alex and Ned are still at it.”

“And probably will be for a few more hours. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why would someone from another country — say, Ireland — come to the United States, go to school at a prestigious university under one name, then change that name and marry someone to get a green card and a path to dual citizenship?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m told it was for tax issues involved in dual citizenship, but even the fake husband, a lawyer, didn’t understand that or why she changed her name before she started her firm.”

“That’s what’s got you? The name change?”

“Among other things. But, yeah, I can’t figure that one out.”

Willow returned with her coat on and carrying her little backpack.

Sampson shrugged. “Maybe she just didn’t like her name — you know, she could have had an ugly name like Brunhilda or something.”

“But her name was Maggie Fontaine,” Bree said. “I think it’s kind of a pretty name. Movie star–ish.”

“What’s pretty and movie star–ish?” Willow asked, handing her father her backpack.

“A lady’s name,” Sampson said. “Maggie Fontaine.”

“That is pretty,” Willow said. “Bye, Bree. Bye, Ali.”

Ali did not take his eyes off the documentary. “Bye, Willow.”

“Say goodbye to Jannie for me,” Willow said.

“We will,” Bree promised. “And by the way, I think Willow Sampson is a much prettier name than Maggie Fontaine.”

Willow giggled as she and her father went out the door. Bree turned and watched the octopus go darting off through a kelp bed for a few seconds, then headed to the kitchen, hoping to help Nana Mama. The front door opened behind her.

“Bree?”

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