She was about twenty， with long blond hair， and her body was found a few days after she fell from the cliffs to her death on the rocks below. The action of the water and sea life made circulating a picture of her impossible， but even with a description， no one identified her; no one reported a girl gone missing from any of the nearby villages. She d been fashionably dressed， obviously out for a night of partying. All the police knew was her approximate age， that she d had a child a few months before she died， and that she weighed only about ninety pounds. The cliff from which she fell was miles from anywhere. Her death was a mystery that had haunted Alan Nesbitt， Dorothy Martin s now-retired Chief Constable husband， since 1968. It was a failure that he d carried for years. It was raining in Sherebury， but the sun was out in Cornwall. A perfect time to take a vacation...and a perfect chance for Dorothy Martin. It didn t matter that the incident had happened more than thirty years earlier; Dorothy was going to get to the bottom of the mystery for Alan...and uncover a new one while she was at it.
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