She and Gypsie chatted for a few more minutes. When Mary finished her drink, she glanced at the door.
“If anyone asks, I wasn’t here.”
They laughed as she slid off the stool and walked out. There were no secrets in Avalon.
Unless you were a murderer.
Whoever that was could keep a secret very well.
She smiled at the thought.
She pushed the door open. A deputy brushed past her on his way in, the patch on his sleeve catching her eye. He gave her a polite nod, eyes flicking to her face, then to the bar behind her. His radio hissed once, then went quiet again, like someone had just muted a room.
On the sidewalk, people moved along without slowing, the tide of daily life undisturbed. Mary merged with the crowd as her phone buzzed again. She shouldn’t look. She did anyway.
We’re all safest when the truth is told.
“Are we?” Mary asked no one.
She lifted her face to the sun, eyes closed, and let the heat wash over her skin. Baptism by fire always felt purer than that done by water.
She set her phone on silent and continued walking. She’d keep surviving. Survivors were rarely innocent for long.
***
Near Lover’s Cove, the sun turned the water into glittering diamond dust. Tosh sat cross-legged on the pier, a rod betweenhis knees, his mirrored sunglasses reflecting the gentle waves. Zach baited a hook with hands that never minded getting dirty.
“Fishing is a bold choice for a man who checks his phone every five seconds,” Zach said, laughing.
“I’m detoxing,” Tosh said. He set his phone face down beside the tackle box. It lit up anyway. “Or trying to.”
“Try harder.” Zach lobbed his line out. The bobber made a precise circle, a period at the end of a sentence. “You look like a man waiting for a verdict.”
Tosh grinned without humor. “Aren’t we all?”
“Some of us more than others.” Zach’s ball cap shaded his eyes. He had a split across his knuckle, half-healed, the kind you get from contact, not carpentry.
Tosh clocked it and looked away, choosing not to ask. Some questions came with answers you couldn’t unknow.
“If the cops ask again,” Zach said, “what do you want me to say about that night?”
“The truth,” Tosh replied too quickly.
“Which version?” Zach’s lips twitched.
“Mine.” Tosh watched a paddleboarder glide past, wishing he could feel that free. “We were at the fire. We laughed. We drank. Everyone danced. Lisa went for a walk. I didn’t follow.” He paused just long enough to let doubt bleed through, eyes shadowed with what he didn’t, or couldn’t, confess.
“Did you want to?” Zach asked.
“Wanting isn’t a crime.”
“Tell that to half this island.” Zach reeled and cast again. “People are talking.”
“They always are.” Tosh chuckled. He didn’t care what people said. “Let me guess. Tosh is a narcissist with a body count.” He leaned back on his palms. “Maybe they’re saying that I cried just right for the cameras.”
“They’re also saying that Harmony’s a cold block of ice.”
“She’s not ice.” Tosh’s voice softened. “She’s water. Calm until the rip tide hits.”
