I heard her under the bushes, releasing a slow growl.

I moved to the top of the steps and put my hands on my hips. “Muffy! Leave whatever poor creature you’ve got trapped under there alone and come inside.”

She emerged with her head down, still snarling at the bushes.

“Does she ordinarily do that?” Neely Kate asked.

I sighed. “She had a raccoon trapped under there a few weeks ago. It was next to impossible to get her to come in.” Muffy was still at the bottom of the steps. “Muffy!”

She reluctantly made her way up, one step at a time, letting the creature under the bushes know that she wasn’t one bit happy about leaving it behind.

Once she was inside, I closed and locked the door behind her and turned to Neely Kate. “The yearbooks are in the office.”

I pushed open the French doors and walked around the desk to the bookcases. Mason had taken over the office and it totally reflected him now. An empty coffee mug was on a coaster and he had stacks of legal pads and a few books. His sweatshirt was crumpled in his chair. His mother had given me his forensics trophy from when he’d gone to state his senior year in high school, and I’d put it on a shelf to tease him. I was suddenly struck by how integral he had become to my life and the farmhouse. Parts of him were everywhere. If something were to happen to him, I didn’t think I could stand coming home and seeing things like his sweatshirt as he’d left them…not with the knowledge he’d never come home to wear it again.

“Rose?” Neely Kate asked, worry in her voice.

I wiped a stray tear. “Someone wants Mason dead.” It was one thing knowing that it was true and another considering this his enemies might actually be successful.

“I know, honey.”

“I can’t lose him, Neely Kate.”

She pulled me into a hug. “You’re not going to. Joe’s going to make sure he’s okay.”

I took a deep breath and pulled loose. Here I was whining about hypothetically losing Mason when Neely Kate was grieving an actual loss. “You’re right.” I forced a smile. “He’s gonna be just fine.”

I turned to face the bookcases and went straight to the section that held school yearbooks. I ran my finger along the spines, looking for the years that would fit Dora’s time in high school. I grabbed four books off the shelf and hefted them onto my hip.

Neely Kate studied the books lining the shelves, most of which I hadn’t given so much as a glance since moving into the farmhouse. “While we’re in here, why don’t we see if the other journal’s in here?”

“It seems a little too obvious, doesn’t it?”

“Sometimes the best place to hide something is in plain sight.”

I put the books on Mason’s desk, and we spent the next ten minutes searching titles on the spines and pulling out any book that looked like it could be a journal. No luck.

“Well, it was worth a try,” I said, picking up the yearbooks. “Back to plan A.”

“Let’s take them out to the kitchen,” Neely Kate said, leading the way. “I’ll start a pot of coffee.”

Once we reached the kitchen, she started the coffee and I set the books on the table.

“Since we didn’t get any cupcakes for ourselves,” I said, moving to the refrigerator, “do you want a piece of Maeve’s marble cheesecake?”

“I’m gonna gain fifty pounds if I keep eating that woman’s food,” Neely Kate said with a grin.

I pulled the pan out and carried it over to the table. “So was that a yes or a no?” I asked, reaching for plates in the cabinet.

“Duh. It’s a yes.”

After I dished up our dessert and Neely Kate poured our coffee, we sat at the table in front of the books.

“For someone so eager for answers,” Neely Kate murmured as she picked up her fork, “you sure are stalling.”

I grabbed the corner of the first book and took a deep breath. “What if I don’t like the answers we find?”

“Since when do you back down from the truth?” She took a bite. “Mmmm… Maeve should open her own restaurant.”

“Don’t give her any ideas.” I laughed half-heartedly. “And I’m not backin’ down from the truth. Just delaying it a bit.” I opened the top book, realizing I’d shuffled them out of order. I searched for the junior class and sure enough, I found Dora sandwiched between a girl with long blond hair who looked like the popular cheerleader type and a boy with acne and a sad look in his eyes.

“She was pretty,” Neely Kate said, as I slid the book more centrally between us. “You look like her.”

Neely Kate was right. I’d been struck by the resemblance the first time I’d seen a photo of her holding a tiny me. “There’s something about her that seems so…friendly,” I said.

“I agree. She looks like she’d be nice to Donnie Hall.” She pointed to the sad-looking boy, then looked up at me. “Just like you would be.”

It was strange to think that the person I’d thought I was for twenty-four years wasn’t the person I was at all. Or more accurately, the parts that made up me weren’t what I’d thought they were. Who was the woman who’d carried me for nine months, hoping for a life full of love for the both of us? Had she resorted to something illegal to make that happen?

“We need to look for Hattie.” I flipped to the beginning of the junior class and started scanning names.