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Drew laughs. “I love how Juliet tries to make it sound like she was there to party.” She turns to me. “Dude, you weren’t even drinking. You were hiding out on the dunes with a pair of binoculars that entire—” At last she sees the look on my face and stops talking.
Donna reaches for my hand. “I had no idea you were at Pipeline,” she says, and I’m saved from replying by Hilary, who marches herself into the center of our circle with another of her tight, displeased smiles.
“Have any of you seen Libby?” she demands. “She’s supposed to be monitoring the silent auction tables, but she’s nowhere to be found, which is exactly why it’s a bad idea to entrust personal friends with important roles.”
I’ve fucking had it. I take a step forward but Luke beats me. “Donna and I will see if we can find her,” he says. “And, Hilary…alienating the people who pay your salary isn’t a great move.” His words are polite, but his tone and the chill in his eyes send a clear message. He takes one last look at me, a too-long look, before he leads Donna off in search of Libby.
“I’m sorry,” Drew whispers. “Was he not supposed to know?”
I shake my head. “It’s okay.” But I feel like it’s all spilling out, one secret after the next and, really, there’s only one left. The worst one. “Let me see if I can find Libby.”
I walk away, pulling out my phone and looking for Libby’s name. When our text chain appears, I feel sick all over again about how one-sided our friendship became: it was always her reaching out, her congratulating me, and me replying every third or fourth time with a heart emoji or something similarly distant.
One more person I disappeared on.
Hey, just making sure you didn’t go into labor. Hilary is looking for you. Is everything okay?
Libby
No, not really. But I’m nearly there.
She walks in the door a minute later, and I cut across the room toward her.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She looks over her shoulder. “Here, walk with me,” she says under her breath. “I’m supposed to be working in the auction part of the room.”
We start walking. The air seems to whistle out of her chest, and with it, she deflates. I hadn’t realized, until now, just how tired she looks.
“Grady got a call this afternoon and said he had to go back to talk to the police,” she continues.
“The police?”
She nods and looks around her quickly. “Some reporter gave them all this new information about the night Danny died. She’s suggesting they reopen the investigation.”
I grip the table closest to me to stop the room from spinning. “What?”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have broken the news to you like that. I just…they’re making something of the fact that Grady and Danny argued. And I guess Grady was seen coming back in the middle of the night—I didn’t even know about that. I mean…they can’t possibly believe Grady would kill someone, would they?”
The room is too loud and too bright. My knees begin to shake.
If the police even suggest Grady was involved, I know exactly what he’ll do. The very thing I’ve dreaded for the past seven years.
He’ll tell them the truth.
“I need to—” I whisper weakly, moving away from her without even finishing the sentence.
I walk blindly toward the other side of the room, hands pressed to my stomach, my heart beating wildly. I don’t know how to fix this but I’m still desperately hunting for a solution. I think of Luke so many years ago at Harrison’s house, glancing up at the cliff and saying, “You ever try jumping off that?” Right now, I’m looking for a way he can jump and survive. I don’t think there is one.
I have no idea what Grady and Danny argued about, but it hardly matters because Grady does have an alibi for those hours on the beach. And Luke doesn’t.
That fucking reporter. I should have known. I never should have come back.
“I can’t wait to peel that dress off you later tonight,” Luke says from behind, leaning down so I’m the only one who’ll hear.
I turn, looking around us before I answer. “We can’t. Donna’s going to be in the suite.”
“You think she’d care at this point? She just wants us to be happy.”
