June gave a soft laugh. “Don’t tell anyone.” Her eyes met his. “Since I arrived here, I’ve been seriously considering selling the law firm, my house, and moving here.” She glanced around and sighed. “There is just something so…”
“Tranquil, magical, and magnetic?” Dean offered.
“Yes, exactly that.” June looked at him.
They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the sun sink lower toward the horizon. Dean glanced at his watch and then back toward the gathering.
"Aren't Lacey and Margo supposed to be here by now?" Dean asked, unable to keep the concern out of his voice.
June's brow furrowed as she turned and scanned the crowd. "Yes," she nodded. "Lacey called me about an hour ago to let me know she wouldn't be long. She just had to attend to a sick dog."
"We should give her a call," Dean suggested, though something in his gut was starting to feel uneasy.
June nodded and pulled out her phone. She found Lacey's number and dialed. No answer. She tried the veterinary clinic. No answer. She called Margo's cell phone. No answer. She tried Teacups. No answer.
A bad feeling crept up Dean's spine like ice water. "Is it just me, or is that a big concern that neither of them is answering?"
"It is," June agreed, worry clear in her voice. "I know both Margo and Lacey. They always answer their phones, especially when they're expected somewhere."
"Maybe Lacey is still working on the sick dog, and Margo is helping her," Dean suggested, trying to find a reasonable explanation. "They could both have their hands full."
“Maybe.” He saw the worry flash in June's eyes as she bit her lip and met his gaze. "I don't like this," she said, echoing his own growing concern. She looked back at the crowd of people enjoying themselves. "I don't want to cause a scene or worry anyone unnecessarily..."
"But you want to go check on them," Dean finished, reading her mind perfectly. "I don't have a car here."
"Neither do I, but Carmen does," June said, glancing toward where Carmen's keys would be inside the house. "Let's walk around this side like we're going for a stroll on the beach, and then head toward her car. I'll sneak back in through the front door and grab her keys."
"Okay," Dean nodded, his sense of unease growing stronger by the minute.
A few minutes later, they were driving through the quiet evening streets toward downtown Sandpiper Shores. As they got closer to the main part of town, the worry eating at Dean's stomach intensified. Something felt wrong. It wasn’t just Lacey and Margo's absence, but something deeper. The same kind of wrongness he'd felt ten years ago when everything started falling apart.
They were nearing the veterinary clinic when sirens began wailing in the distance, growing louder and more urgent. Dean's blood ran cold as they rounded the final corner and saw thick black smoke billowing from the direction of the clinic.
9
HOLT
The evening air carried the mingled scents of barbecue smoke and ocean salt as Holt stood on Willa's expansive deck, taking in the familiar sounds of a community gathering in full swing. The backyard buzzed with simultaneous conversations, creating the kind of warm, chaotic atmosphere that reminded him of summers in his childhood in Sandpiper Shores.
He found himself drawn into a loose circle that included Rad, Willa, Noah, and the younger generation. But then his eyes caught the teenagers who hovered at the edges of the adult conversation.
“Mom,” Grace’s soft voice interrupted the conversation. “Can we switch the floodlights on so we can play beach volleyball?”
“Sure,” Willa said, smiling at her daughter, and then turned to the group she was talking to. “What say we take the teens on in a game of volleyball later?”
“If we’re going to play volleyball, I suggest we do it before we eat,” Noah chimed in. “I think most of us at our age just want to relax after our bellies are full.”
“Speak for yourself,” Ginny laughed at her husband. “I’m in.”
“Me too,” Ace agreed and turned toward Holt. “What about you, Holt? Want to join us in trying to go up against the teens?”
“Isn’t it getting a bit too dark to play volleyball on the beach?” Holt’s eyes turned pointedly toward the sun dipping below the horizon.
"We can play in the dark,” Grace informed him. “We have big floodlights that shine onto the beach." Her expression flickered with something that looked like pain before she continued speaking. "My father had them installed just after we moved here so we could still play on the beach when it got dark. He always said summer evenings were too precious to waste just because the sun went down."
The casual mention of Shaun created a moment of respectful silence in their group. Holt felt the familiar tightness in his chest that came whenever the absence of a fallen service member was highlighted, no matter where you were gathered. Though he'd never known Shaun personally, Holt understood the profound impact someone’s death left on their family.
"I’m afraid, even if he wanted to," Rad's voice came from beside Holt, who felt a surge of gratitude for his son's timely intervention, "my dad can't play volleyball right now. He's still recovering from being shot."
