“Funny,” Torie muttered, eyes locked on Candy lighting a cigarette. “She’s been meeting Tosh in secret all week . . . but she’s been meeting other men too. That woman is collecting more than stories.”
Janet snorted. “Candy meets anyone who will do something for her. It’s part of her brand.”
“This is different,” Torie said. “It’s more.”
Janet’s smile faded. “Please tell me you’re not getting back with Tosh. It always ends the same.”
“I know!” Torie yelled.
“And you’restillmarried,” Janet added softly. “To someone else.”
Torie’s jaw clenched. “My marriage ended years ago. We just stayed for the kids.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that Tosh was supposed to be . . . a fling. Revenge. Closure. Not emotional support.”
Torie’s eyes burned. “He promised he’d stop seeing her.”
“Candy?” Janet asked.
“And Janie. And Lisa. And all the others.” Torie swallowed hard. “He said he’d give me the respect of keeping them out of rotation. What we had mattered . . . or it was supposed to.” Torie’s voice trembled with a mixture of fury and heartbreak. “You don’t get it. He makes me feel alive, and then he makes me feel like I’m losing my mind.”
Janet hesitated. “Maybe take a break from the friendship, too.”
Torie bitterly laughed. “You sound like Harmony.”
“Well . . . if we’re all saying it, maybe you should listen.”
Torie scoffed. “I don’t trust Harmony. She asks too many questions. She was there the night Lisa died, and now she’s circling all of us like case studies. How is that normal?”
“What questions?” Janet asked.
“I don’t know. I just know she’s writing things down, and I don’t trust her.”
“Maybe it’s innocent,” Janet said carefully. “She is a writer.”
Torie shook her head, setting down her cup. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t—”
Too late. Torie was already moving, turning the walk into a stakeout.
She followed Candy through the streets, her heart pounding. Catalina seemed too bright and clean for how dark she felt inside. Every smiling face mocked her.
She cut behind the Avalon Theater and climbed the path to the cliffs above Lover’s Cove. Sea wind tangled her hair as she crouched behind a rock. Candy set her guitar down, lighting another cigarette.
Moments later, Tosh appeared.
The same grin that had once undone her slid into place effortlessly. He tucked a strand of Candy’s hair behind her ear. Candy laughed softly. Tosh’s hand slid down her back.
It was intimate. Easy. Rehearsed.
Torie’s breath broke. “You liar,” she whispered. “You lying—”
She hit record, hands shaking. The video captured everything: the touch, the smile, the betrayal.
Then Candy looked up toward the ridge—straight toward Torie.
Torie ducked low, scraping her knee on the rock, heartbeat roaring. When she peeked again, the cove was empty.
