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and patted his shoulder. "I'm sorry to tell you, Papa, but they've found Nell's body. I stopped by the Police Station right after school."
    Dr. Bailey rose from tending the fire and took his normal worn leather chair, moving the papers to the side table. "What does Tucker have to say?"
    If she'd been a man, the noise that came from Meghan as she flopped into her chair would've been called a snort. "Gage is being tight-lipped as usual. They're suggesting Nellie drowned."
    "Well, darling, it is possible. The Pasquotank can be extraordinarily dangerous."
    "I told Gage that Nell was an excellent swimmer."
    "As she was. But even good swimmers get cramps. Or slip and fall. Lose their balance."
    Meghan didn't believe in such oddities, but she knew her father was playing devil's advocate, trying to force her to look at all possibilities. She rose and made for the arched doorway that led to the kitchen. "Shall I make tea?"
    Dr. Bailey followed her into the large kitchen where he watched her set the kettle on the cook stove as he stoked up the embers and added wood. After gathering the cups and saucers from the pantry and arranging place settings for them, her father settled himself at the kitchen table. Meghan reached for the tea tin and sugar and added those items.
    She stared off at a spot over her father's head, deep in thought. "Am I being short-sighted, Papa? Could Nell's death have been an accident?" she asked when they'd finally sat down to drink their tea and eat the biscuits.
    "No," he answered quietly. "I don't think Nell's disappearance and death happened by chance."
    Meg looked up, startled.
    "I am a man of science," he explained. "Of logic and rational thought. So I ask myself – what would a young woman like Nell Carver be doing away from her home on an inclement winter's night?" He scratched his shaggy head. "And since she was a lovely, vibrant young woman – "
    "With many gentlemen friends," Meg interrupted, lifting one brow.
    "With too many gentlemen friends," her father conceded the point. "I ask myself if she'd gone to meet one, or possibly two, of those young men."
    He scratched his gray head thoughtfully and shifted in his chair. "Was there an ensuing altercation? Did one beau discover the identity of another? Was Nell harmed during the fracas?"
    He smiled gently. "You see, Meggie, there are many unanswered questions regarding Nell's disappearance." He spread his hands and tilted his head quizzically as if the problem were obvious.
    "Then, a cryptic diagram is sent to the authorities," he continued, "and finally, her body is discovered."
    Meghan frowned and jumped up, planting her hands on her hips. "And why hasn't Tucker Gage asked these same questions, Papa? Why is his first presumption that she drowned?"
    Her father finished the last drop of tea and placed his dishes in the sink. He turned to face her, a patient smile playing around his lips. "And you can read his thoughts, now? You know how the Marshal plans to investigate poor Nell's death?"
    He reached for her hands and held them gently in both of his. "You're privy to the conversations he's had with relatives, friends, and witnesses?"
    Meghan had the grace to blush, a condition of contrition only her father was able to arouse in her. She worried her bottom lip and shrugged like a young girl.
    "Give Gage a chance. He's going to keep his findings close to his vest if he's a smart man." He eyed his daughter's small, athletic form and shook his head. "I think our town marshal is a highly intelligent man. Don't be too quick to condemn his methods."
    "It's just like you to take his side," she complained, kissing her father quickly on the cheek.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter 5
     
    While he waited for Pruitt to bring James Wade to the Station House, Gage reviewed his interview notes with Nell's beau from November when she'd first gone missing. He spun his chair around to look out the window at the wet wintry day and thought about how to proceed.
    What he hated most