Everyone had secrets. Some wanted their stories told. Some would kill to keep them buried.
Who were these people, really? Were they willing to kill? Or did they quietly hope someone would save them?
Somewhere behind her, boots scraped against wet stone, the steady rhythm too measured to be a drunk tourist. When she turned, all she saw was fog and the faint outline of a tan uniform at the top of the hill. By the time she blinked, even that had dissolved.
By the time the storm hit its peak, the whole island felt caged. The power flickered. Wind screamed through the palms. Harmony watched the lights in town sputter and die. In the dark, she whispered the last line she’d written aloud, just to hear it.
“When everyone’s guilty, who do you forgive?”
Thunder answered. Lightning lit her reflection in the window—pale, composed, watching herself watch. For a moment, she thought she saw another silhouette behind her in the glass. When she turned, the room was empty.
Only the whisper of the rain remained, steady and alive, like the island itself.
Chapter Eleven
Dressed to Kill
The sun came back out, and Catalina put on her good jewelry—pretending she wasn’t coming apart at the seams. The Casino Ballroom shimmered like a secret too bright to hold. Crystal chandeliers threw gold across polished marble, the band played swing loud enough to drown out guilt, and the air itself buzzed with perfume, money, and pretense.
Avalon’s elite had gathered for charity, though everyone knew they weren’t there to give. They were there to be seen, to be forgiven, to pretend the island wasn’t cracking beneath them.
Harmony arrived late, slipping through the doors with a smile that could’ve meant anything. Black satin caught the light as she moved, her eyes scanning the room and missing nothing. Though she wanted to be there as nothing more than an observer, her pulse quickened with anticipation. Nights like these always exposed something new.
The Casino’s floors echoed with every step—a confession desperate to escape. Above, chandeliers swayed gently with the tide, their light older than truth itself.
“Look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Cass teased, meeting her at the champagne bar. “You’re two glasses behind and three scandals too late.”
“I’ll catch up,” Harmony said, scanning the room.
Tosh stood near the stage, laughing loudly with the mayor’s wife. Candy glittered beside him in a sequined dress—a deliberate weapon. At a nearby table, Torie sat watching every movement with surgical precision, fingers white around her wineglass.
Mary hovered near the silent auction table, pretending to study jewelry, her hand shaking just enough for Harmony to notice. And Zach was leaning against a column, jacket open, expression unreadable.
Near the back wall, Deputy Ciscel stood out of uniform in a dark suit that didn’t quite hide the cop. He wasn’t drinking or dancing; instead, he leaned with crossed arms against the wall, surveying the room with that same quiet attention he always carried.
“You can feel it, can’t you?” Cass murmured. “The tension?”
Harmony smiled faintly. “That’s not tension. It’s foreplay.”
The band shifted songs. The crowd began to swirl. Waiters wove through laughter, champagne trays balanced high, while gossip moved even faster.
At a table, Sue leaned close to Leo. “You hear what they found near the cliffs?”
Leo smirked. “A bottle?”
“A shoe,” she whispered. “A woman’s shoe.”
“Plenty of those on this island,” he said.
Sue’s eyes flicked to Candy. “Not like that one.”
Janie swept by in a shimmer of silk and intent, three men trailing her like obedient shadows. She paused at Sue’s table.
“Having fun?” she asked in the perfected purr she’d spent a lifetime mastering.
“I’m having the time of my life,” Sue told her.
“Me too. My only problem is knowing who to choose first. It’s a difficult decision.”
