Chapter Seven
The Social Web
Morning light spilled over the boardwalk like it was trying too hard to be sly while still exposing what no one wanted to see. The harbor gleamed, tourists wandered with forced cheer, and cafés opened their doors as if determined to pretend nothing terrible had happened the night before.
A gentle breeze brushed over Harmony as she sat on the patio of The Brewhouse, fingers wrapped around a warm cup she hadn’t yet tasted. The world was moving too fast and shining too brightly. She looked at her friends with a strange, hollow ache. She was either a writer collecting moments or a friend searching for footing. She didn’t know which—or if it was something in between.
Cass slid into the seat across from her, dropping her sunglasses onto the table with a tired thud. Her hair was knotted into a rushed, messy bun, strands sticking out like static.
“I hate mornings,” she muttered. “Especially this one.”
Harmony forced a smile. “Some mornings are louder than others.”
“Some are screaming,” Candy said, drifting in with her guitar slung over her shoulder. She perched on the edge of a chair, eyes wide and too soft for the day they were waking up to. “Everyone’s talking. I can’t get away from it. It’s not just the tourists.”
“Of course they’re talking,” Harmony said, shifting in her chair. “Something horrible happened.”
Silence followed, brief but sharp. Torie split it open. Her makeup was flawless; her energy was brittle. She sat like someone had pulled the chair out from under her and forgotten to tell her she hadn’t actually fallen.
“Deputy Evans was watching me,” she said.
Harmony’s stomach tightened.
Being watched had never bothered her until her ex started scrolling through her messages tokeep her safe.Concern had turned into surveillance so gradually that she hadn’t noticed until it was too late. Now, even worried eyes felt less like protection and more like a spotlight she hadn’t agreed to stand under.
“He was staring like I did something wrong,” Torie whispered, staring at the table. A tear slipped down her cheek.
“No one thinks you did anything,” Cass said automatically, though a flicker of doubt crossed her eyes. “They’re just doing their job. We were all there when Lisa was killed.”
“Right.” Torie’s tone said she didn’t believe it. “Evans and Durante grilled me for an hour. They asked where I was, who I talked to, what I saw. They kept asking the same questions in different ways.” She shook her head. “I was a mess.”
She swallowed. “Evans and Durante did most of the talking. But it was that other one, Ciscel, that got under my skin. He barely said a word. He just watched and wrote, like he was waiting for me to slip.”
Cass’s head came up slowly. “They questioned you for that long?”
“Everyone’sbeen questioned for that long,” Torie said hoarsely. “That’s the problem.”
Harmony lifted her cup and took a sip. The coffee tasted like sawdust. Her stomach felt hollow, the hum beneath her ribs quiet and steady, like it had no intention of disappearing. A group of tourists walked past, whispering loudly enough to hear the wordmurder.
Candy flinched. “I don’t want to listen to it anymore.” Her hands shook too much for it to be just a hangover.
“They’re going to keep talking. It’ll get worse,” Torie said, looking more defeated than Harmony had ever seen her.
Cass rubbed her temples. “I’m trying to be positive, but I can’t take much more today.”
Harmony scanned the patio. The place buzzed with life, but the undercurrent had changed. People whispered, but not as quietly as they thought. A woman near the door jumped when a glass dropped and shattered.
Harmony looked down, throat tightening. She’d already taken so many hits this year. The divorce. The stalled career. The best friend. The lingering grief. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take before she shattered, just like the broken glass.
“Are you okay?” The warm voice drifted over her like a calm in the middle of a storm.
Zach.
His presence settled over the table; even Torie straightened a little. He sat, studying Harmony with those quiet, unsettling eyes of his. Everyone thought she was the one watching, but Zach saw more than any of them. If people understood how much he noticed, they’d be far more afraid of him than of her.
Lately, it felt like there were more eyes like that on the island. Zach wasn’t the only one cataloging people. A few faces in townhad started to watch the way Harmony did, as if they were taking notes for a story of their own.
Harmony forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
