Page 4 of Murder on Charity Lane

“Oh!” Sophie said, not having noticed them. “Hey.”

“Will do,” Nicholas said. “Thanks.”

“And I’m happy to help label boxes,” Lily-Ann told them.

“Oh, Lily-Ann, go inside,” Sophie said. “The chaos will only make you crazy.”

“Not if you—”

“Speaking of chaos,” Anthony murmured into her ear before she could finish. “We’ve got ten minutes before you’re due back at your laptop.”

By which he meant there was time for rushed sex. Lily-Ann felt her body warm up. She liked rushed sex.

“Take a picture of the back of your TV so you know where the cables go,” she called to Nicholas and Sophie, before Anthony dragged her back inside.

4

OCEAN

On the surface, Ocean’s new painting didn’t look like anything special. It was an almost photorealistic depiction of a hedge. Glossy green leaves filled the canvas, freckled with white ovals of sunlight and a cluster of salmon-colored berries. Ocean liked the composition, but what interested her most was what the hedge concealed. What the viewer couldn’t see.

Which is a lot to ask of a painting, she said to herself.

She stared at the canvas until she heard laughter ringing across the courtyard. She smiled at the happiness in Sophie’s voice. The freedom. She remembered when she’d first arrived at the Cottages, how she’d struck Ocean as timid and brittle.

Not anymore. There was more to her than met the eye. Just like this painting, if Ocean ever managed to make it work.

She frowned at the berries for a few seconds before she remembered that Mrs. B had asked her to pass along a message. She wiped her hands on a rag, even though they were clean already. She hadn’t touched paint today; after teaching her morning sculpture class, she’d just stood in front of the half-finished project and pondered.

Thinking about art, naturally, but also about the woman she’d been dating. The woman who, with crowing delight, Mrs. B had introduced her to.

“I’m a proper yenta now!” Mrs. B had crowed, after years of quizzing every single woman—every single single woman—she’d met about their sexuality.

She’d never developed the slightest hint of gaydar, either, so nobody had been safe: not young women with yoga mats, not middle-aged women with BMWs, not new mothers with strollers. But most of all, not medical professionals. At this point she’d charted the sexuality of every podiatrist, ENT, and medical transcriptionist in Santa Barbara. All in the vain hope she would find someone for Ocean.

Then she met CJ in the YMCA locker room and demanded to know if she was gay. Apparently CJ had said, “Well, I’m not not gay,” which resulted in Mrs. B immediately blurting, “Oh! Finally! I can’t wait for you to meet Ocean!”

CJ was almost ten years younger than Ocean, with auburn hair and winged eyeliner and a sunshine smile. She was vivacious and femme, and wore bright dresses and big earrings. She enjoyed crystals, journaling, and chatting with her pet birds. Riley called her a “flower crown lesbian,” which Ocean had never heard before but sounded exactly right.

After her divorce from Zoe, between raising the kids and feeling like the world’s premier romantic failure, Ocean had shied away from meeting people. But after three dates with CJ she was starting to feel a terrifying sensation of hope. Maybe it wasn’t too late for her.

She tossed her rag aside and headed for the courtyard, where she found Sophie and Nicholas messing around with boxes, while Anthony dragged Lily-Ann back into her cottage.

“Wait, Anthony!” Sophie called. “Do you need a blender?”

“Yes,” he told her.

“Promise you’ll take good care of him!”

“He likes moonlight walks on the beach,” Nicholas said. “And electrical sockets.”

Anthony swept Lily-Ann inside and closed the door behind them.

“Did I miss the big giveaway?” Ocean asked, crossing the courtyard.

“Yeah, I’m sacrificing my hard-won independence over here,” Sophie said.

“Also, her twenty-year-old blender,” Nicholas added.