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‘Perhaps, and maybe that decision haunted her. But how could a broken heart kill Edith?’
‘Maybe that William guy murdered her,’ said Maisie, who’d just barged into the room and caught the end of the conversation.
‘Really?’ Caitlin raised an eyebrow. ‘Why would William kill Edith?’
‘Why does anyone kill anyone?’ muttered Maisie darkly. ‘He could have been upset that she came to her senses and decided not to get married, so he used strychnine to get his revenge. I’ve been reading about the Lambeth Poisoner, who killed his victims with it in the eighteen hundreds.’
Isla did a double-take at the teenager, probably disturbed that she was reading up about historic murders. But Caitlin, who knew her stepdaughter’s penchant for the grisly, was unfazed.
‘Do shush, Maisie,’ she said, before turning back to Isla. ‘So it looks as if Edith didn’t go to America. Or maybe she did, the marriage didn’t happen, and she was brought home after she passed away.’
‘It’s intriguing, don’t you think?’ said Isla.
Caitlin sighed and sat back in her chair. ‘You’re so much like Gran. Always keen to solve something.’
‘But don’t you think this riddle is fascinating? And it means even more because Gran wanted us to solve it. Together.’
‘Maybe you two should set up the Heaven’s Cove Detectives Agency,’ muttered Maisie, shifting from foot to foot.
Caitlin shot Maisie a look. ‘OK. So what do we do about it? How do we find out what happened to Edith?’
‘I guess we get hold of her death certificate, if we can,’ said Isla, ‘and try to find out what was happening in Heaven’s Cove around then? The village cultural centre might be worth a visit.’
‘And I can help,’ said Maisie. ‘What?’ She raised her palms to the ceiling when both sisters stared at her. ‘There’s nothing else to do around here, and the sooner you solve that stupid riddle, the sooner we can get back to London. Right, Caitlin?’
Caitlin nodded, even though solving the riddle wasn’t the real reason for their longer than expected stay in Heaven’s Cove. She was still hoping to persuade Isla to sell Rose Cottage because the cash from that sale would solve one very big problem in her life.
But, she had to admit, her interest was piqued by what Isla had discovered about their long-lost relative. What on earth had caused her romance with William to implode and meant she was buried in Heaven’s Cove after dying of a broken heart?
Caitlin couldn’t help but feel a kinship with Edith because her heart was also hurting. Stuart had let her down badly but she had no choice other than to stand by him. She glanced at Isla, who was still studying their grandmother’s riddle, and felt a rush of sorrow at the loss of closeness between them. She’d abandoned her sister, and she couldn’t do the same again to someone she cared about, so she would support her husband, however much she felt trapped.
12
ISLA
The next morning, Isla clicked onto Skype and sat waiting for Eleanor Columbus to accept her call, halfway across the world. It was embarrassing how quickly Maisie had managed to track down one of William’s descendants, after she had failed miserably.
‘That’s ’cos old people don’t know what they’re doing online,’ Maisie had muttered, handing over details of the people she’d found in the New York area who were named Columbus. Isla had winced at the comment – though twice the teenager’s age, she was hardly in her dotage. However, Maisie had come up with the goods so she’d simply thanked her and let it go.
Caitlin had contacted Eleanor, who was the only person whose email address was online, and Eleanor had replied almost immediately, confirming that her family did, indeed, have a link to William, and suggesting that she and Caitlin should speak.
So a call had been arranged, and Isla had insisted on making it. She wasn’t sure, now, why she’d been adamant that it should be her who spoke to this American stranger. Perhaps it was because Caitlin had said Paul wouldn’t like it, as if Isla couldn’t make up her own mind. Not that she’d told Paul what was going on. He definitely wouldn’t approve, and there was no point in getting him riled up about nothing.
Isla sighed and glanced round to make sure that Caitlin had disappeared into the kitchen. She’d turned down her offer of support, fearing that both of them on the call might be overwhelming for Eleanor. But, annoyingly, she was feeling nervous as she waited for her call to go through.
Perhaps it was exhaustion, rather than anxiety, that was making her head ache and her leg twitch up and down. She hadn’t been sleeping well since Jessie’s death and, even before her gran died, she’d not been a good sleeper. She was always listening out for Jessie’s call, in case she needed help to get to the bathroom.
What she would give now for her sleep to be interrupted by her lovely grandmother. Isla was lost in thought when a smiling woman with short blonde hair suddenly appeared on her screen.
‘Hey! Is that you, Caitlin?’
The woman’s voice was warm and her brown eyes twinkled.
‘No, I’m Isla, Caitlin’s sister. Hello. Thanks so much for speaking to me, Mrs Columbus.’
The woman laughed. ‘Nell, please. And I’m delighted you got in touch. I’ve begun researching my family tree for my children, and I’m so happy to discover this link to the UK. Thank you so much for sending over a photo of the letter from William. It’s utterly charming.’
All Isla knew about American accents had been gleaned from TV series, but Nell, she decided, came from the Deep South. Maybe from Savannah or New Orleans, both places that Isla had once longed to visit. She’d been fascinated as a child by the swamplands and traditions of the sultry South.
