“Maybe I’m just trying too hard. “Don lay on the bed and studied a picture of a young beautiful Estelle next to the one of the woman in sweats. “Sometimes I see it and sometimes I don’t.” He shook his head. It had been such a disappointment, the trip to Homosassa—the soup kitchen—the church. No one recognized Estelle as the woman in the photo. “It’s just like Crothers said.”
Don nodded. “He said we ought to forget about this, relax and have a nice little vacation while we’re here—said I should get my mind off things and go see the mermaids.” Don smirked.
“I agree.” Scooting closer to him, Carrie tangled a foot across his, she inhaled softly. “Nobody recognized her, huh?”
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