“You said people killed her.”
Mary looked at the translucent stones in her palm. “They did. They called it an overdose, said she partied too hard and too often. But she didn’t. They made her do it. They held her downand forced things on her.” There was a pause. “And I know exactly who did it.”
Harmony’s fingers twitched with the urge to reach for her, but every comfort she could think of felt small and useless.
“Do the police know?”
Mary laughed, low and bitter. “Police? They stopped caring after the first autopsy. But justice isn’t aboutwhobelieves you. Justice comes when the world forgets to watch. I have patience.”
Harmony let the words hang in the air, heavy and dark and oddly beautiful. She had no doubt that Mary would get justice.
“You’ll make them pay.” It wasn’t a question. There was steel in this woman . . . in this mother. Someone was going to find out what happened when you messed with her family.
Mary smiled, secrets and pleasure in her eyes. “I already know how.”
For a fleeting second, Harmony envied the certainty in her voice. Mary had a target, a purpose. Harmony only had a question and a restless, gnawing hum that never left her ribs. How clean life must feel when you know exactly who deserves the blade.
Harmony wished she could see inside Mary’s mind in that moment. It would be worth all the gold in Fort Knox to know what she was thinking, planning, obsessed with doing. She’d have to wait, though, wait and watch . . . and listen.
By late afternoon, Parsons Beach shimmered in the sun. The group sprawled across blankets, sun-dazed and sticky with salt. Rum and tequila were flowing, and the laughter grew looser. Best of all, secrets began slipping like wet sand from cupped hands.
Candy wasn’t there, but her songs were—Joe brought a speaker, and her voice carried through the air like a ghost. Torie’s jaw tightened every time Tosh hummed along. Zachstretched out on a blanket, sand clinging to his forearms. He looked at Harmony.
“Do you write much while you’re here?”
“Always,” Harmony said. “The island’s loud with stories. It’s impossible to shut them out. If I don’t write, I’m afraid they’ll be carried away on the wind.”
He gave a lazy, confident smile. “Do you write about me? I’d make a great character.” He paused. “A sophisticated attorney protecting the rights of the innocent. Or maybe a suave CEO in a penthouse.”
“Or maybe a dirty builder with a hero complex,” Tosh said with a roll of his eyes.
“Don’t be jealous of the perfection,” Zach said with a laugh.
Tosh smirked. “I have nothing to be jealous about.”
“Yeah, everyone knows you’re Mr. Casanova,” Mary said, rolling her eyes.
“Nothing wrong with being Casanova,” Zach said.
“Except for all the girls you deceive,” Torie said, scooting closer to Tosh.
“If the girls let him do it, then whose fault is it?” Harmony asked.
Torie shot her a glare, not liking her input.
“I agree with Harmony. I only do what the ladies want,” Zach said.
“Ditto,” Tosh said.
“I’m a lover, not a fighter,” Joe said as he moved a couple of inches closer to Mary.
Mary gave him a look that said he’d come close enough. Joe smiled, not intimidated. Maybe he’d lived a full life and was willing to get bitten.
Harmony looked back at Zach and gave him an innocent smile. She sweetened her voice until it dripped with honey. “Iwrite about all of you. I haven’t yet decided if you’re the hero or the warning.” She winked.
Cass laughed as she made her way back from the water. “Careful, Zach. She’ll make you sound better than you are, then decide to kill you in the most horrific of ways.”
He grinned as he winked at Cass. “If she makes me sound too good, I’ll have to buy her dinner.”
