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  Coby glanced at her father, who’d moved to stand by Annette and Juliet. It didn’t register at the time but later she realized Dave and Annette had bonded the night before, the beginning of their relationship, though Lucas’s death kept them from acting upon their desires for a time. At least that’s what Dave told Coby later on when she demanded to know the truth.

  “Well, who was with him? Yvette?” Jean-Claude demanded.

  “We were all sitting around the campfire and then we just crawled into our sleeping bags and went to bed.” This was from Ellen, who’d been sitting in a chair by herself, extremely quiet. Her father hadn’t been able to make the trip, so she’d come with Wynona and Donald Greer.

  Coby gave her a long look, remembering her and Theo wrestling in a sleeping bag. “Where are Theo and Galen and Paul?” she asked, and Ellen shot her a worried look.

  “They drove back. Galen was sober,” Kirk added quickly.

  “A deputy’s coming this way,” Dave said, gazing out the window toward the beach.

  He didn’t say it—maybe he wouldn’t have said it—but Coby heard the unspoken comment as if her father had sent out the verbal warning:

  You’d better all get your story straight.

  And then the deputies arrived. Two members of the Tillamook County Sheriff’s Department, Fred Clausen and Marsha Kirkpatrick. Neither of them pulled any punches and they grilled the girls, guys, and dads alike for several hours, taking turns interviewing them in the den. Jean-Claude’s anxiety grew with each passing moment and his other daughters were silent and wide-eyed.

  And then Yvette suddenly opened the front door and just breezed in.

  Jean-Claude gave a yelp of joy and wrapped her in a bear hug and Yvette blinked in surprise at the crowd of people before her, her gaze focusing on the two members of law enforcement who were just starting to interview the guys. Detective Clausen and Kirk were aimed for the den but Yvette’s appearance stopped them.

  Yvette’s eyes widened and she demanded, “What happened?”

  “Lucas is dead,” Genevieve said again, and Yvette shook her head violently, as if the image were tearing into her brain.

  “No . . . no . . . he’s not,” she declared. “He’s not dead. He can’t be. He’s not dead.”

  Hank Sainer said dully, “He fell from the cliff into the rocks.”

  Yvette burst into tears and then, a few moments later, she wailed that she and Lucas were secret lovers and so began her story, one Coby still had trouble believing was anything more than a fairy tale.

  Now, taking a deep breath, Coby shook off the memories once more. Everything had changed. Time had moved on. Lucas’s death was an accident. Rhiannon’s death was an accident. There was no reason to dwell on any part of the past when there were so many new issues in the present she could fret over. Like Annette wanting a child. Like Faith poaching a bit on Danner. Like Coby wanting to believe she was over him when she’d known deep down she wasn’t. Also knowing she’d always wanted to give their relationship another go, and that being with Joe had been merely marking time.

  And she was going to get her chance.

  Climbing to her feet, she was about to rejoin the party when the door to the den suddenly slammed open and against the opposite wall. Coby stopped short as eleven-year-old Benedict Deneuve barreled into the room, looking as surprised to see Coby as she was to see him.

  “Oh . . . sorry . . .” the boy muttered.

  Yvette was right behind him. “So, this is where you went to hide,” she observed to Coby.

  “Excuse me?” Coby was too surprised to take offense.

  “I saw Danner Lockwood, too. With your sister.”

  “Can we go now?” Benedict wheedled, saving Coby from an answer.

  “I don’t want you playing video games the whole time,” Yvette said to him. “Come on, it’s time to eat.”

  “I can’t play anyway. There are too many people out there.” He gestured to the outer room, where the decibel level was increasing with the consumption of alcohol. “I want to go!”

  “After birthday cake,” she told him shortly.

  “When is that?”

  “Right after dinner. Come on.” She herded him out of the room and a loud wave of laughter washed over Coby just before the door shut behind them.

  It was a pisser having everyone believe Danner was with Faith.

  She yanked open the door and reentered the party just as Annette yelled, “Grab a plate. Mangia!”

  “There you are,” Jarrod said to Coby as if he’d been waiting for her.

  Danner was standing back from the table and Faith was at his elbow. Well, fine. There was nothing to do about that.

  “You okay?” Jarrod asked, following her gaze.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Need another glass of wine?”

  “Not a chance.” She’d left hers in the den.

  “You sure?”

  “Maybe later.”

  She surreptitiously threw a glance around the room, sizing up the party. People had lined up and were serving themselves. Juliet Deneuve was standing next to Kirk Grassi, an empty serving tray held loosely in one hand as if she’d forgotten its existence. Like Coby, her gaze was moving restlessly around the room to settle on Annette, who was urging people to move to the table and fill their plates.

  Coby moved up behind Donald Greer and Genevieve slid in behind her, forcing Jarrod one person back. She said in Coby’s ear, “Have you been thinking about that night?”

  “Uh . . . yeah. A little.”

  “Not just Lucas. I mean everything.” She exhaled. “But then you’ve been here lots of times since. This is my first.”

  “I haven’t been here as much as you might think,” Coby admitted.

  “Like that, huh? Because of that night?”

  “And other things.”

  “Oh, your dad and Annette. I suppose that is a big hurdle.”

  “A hurdle, anyway.”

  They both looked over to Annette, who was standing a bit away from the table, overseeing, except that she was staring at something she held in her hands. An envelope? Then Suzette and Galen, plates full, stopped in front of her and Annette folded up the envelope and tossed on a smile that looked forced. After a moment Suzette and Galen moved on and Annette looked down at the envelope, tight-lipped, then headed down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

  “I was too hard on Rhiannon,” Genevieve was saying, as if she’d just been waiting to explain herself. “I shouldn’t have said those things.”

  “You were hard on Yvette,” Coby said. “We all were.”

  “Yeah, but don’t you remember? I blamed Rhiannon for bringing the boys by telling Lucas where we were and what we were doing.”

  Coby gave Genevieve a sideways look. It wasn’t really like her to place blame on herself, but that’s what she seemed intent on doing. On the other hand, she wasn’t wrong about her actions, because almost as soon as the deputies had finished their questions and were out the door, she’d turned on Rhiannon and said, “If you hadn’t invited the guys, Lucas would still be alive!”

  Rhiannon had paled again and swayed on her feet, but she’d stayed upright.

  “We were all a little crazy,” Coby said now, feeling her way.

  “Yeah, well, I shouldn’t have said it.” Gen paused a moment before adding, “But we were all a little in love with Lucas, weren’t we?”

  “More like infatuated with.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Felt more like love.”

  “We were teenagers,” Coby said, picking up a napkin and fork after scooping up lasagna, salad, and bread. “We’re forgiven.”

  “You made out with him that night, too.”

  Coby didn’t answer as she rounded the end of the table and walked away to make room for more diners. She thought about going into the kitchen, too, and looking for seating at the table in the nook, but she was pretty sure all the seats were already taken, so she chose the living room sofa beside Benedict, who was
turning scowling at the blank TV into an art form.

  Genevieve floated into the room, taking a chair across from Coby and next to Hank Sainer, whose head was bent to Yvette, standing on his right. Genevieve was still looking at Coby in an almost accusing way, which made Coby’s cheeks heat, and she was annoyed with herself. Lucas had been a high school crush, nothing more. Genevieve had to know that; she’d felt the same way about him.

  Yvette moved to Benedict and said in a voice that was tired of arguing, “Get something to eat! Now!” then she headed to the table herself. Benedict got to his feet reluctantly and followed his mother.

  Jarrod, plate in hand, moved to where Genevieve was seated, couldn’t find a place to sit, and chose the spot next to Coby.

  “Did you talk to Danner?” he asked her.

  “I did.”

  “Everything okay?”

  Danner and Faith were just going around the table, filling their plates, and Coby, feeling Genevieve’s gaze on her as well as Hank Sainer’s, growled with a touch of humor, “Eat your lasagna, Lockwood, and shut up.”

  Jarrod lifted his fork and napkin in surrender, then tucked into his food. Wanting to turn the attention away from herself, Coby pushed Hank Sainer to talk more about his political ambitions, filling the gaps in the conversation so that she could finish her meal without any more of Jarrod’s probing comments.

  Kirk Grassi sauntered into the living room, holding a plate. He chose to lean back against the wall and eat standing up. “Where’s Juliet?” Genevieve asked him.

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

  “Aren’t you living together?”

  “I don’t check on her every nanosecond like you and Jarrod.” He glazed at her blandly.

  “You’re such an ass,” she said.

  “You’re such a bitch,” he responded.

  “Stop, please, children. Not in front of the guests.” Jarrod was smiling faintly. “They might think you don’t like each other.”

  Genevieve rolled her eyes. “You’re friends with him. You and the band. That’s our whole connection.”

  Annette appeared from the hallway, looking serious. Suzette caught up with her and clearly was bubbling over about Galen, but Annette put a hand on her arm and looked past her, her gaze searching through the crowd for someone. Coby glanced back and saw her father meet Annette’s gaze and motion for her to come forward.

  “It’s cake time!” Dave Rendell yelled.

  Coby had picked at her lasagna and salad and was glad for the interruption. She got to her feet but Hank Sainer took her plate from her. “I got this,” he said with a smile. “For listening to me go on and on.”

  “Thanks.” Coby crowded forward with other guests to ring the now-empty table as Juliet and Suzette were quickly removing the last of the main dishes. Yvette walked out of the kitchen with a stack of dessert plates, her gaze narrowed on Benedict who, having taken a piece of bread, ignoring any kind of vegetable and casserole, was sneaking toward the back hallways and freedom from the adults. She set down the plates and headed after him as Galen Torres carried out a three-tiered white cake with blue flowers cascading down its sides. There were thirty candles flickering away and loops of caramel icing gleamed beneath their uncertain light.

  “I can’t blow all those out,” Annette said.

  “Think how many it’d be if they were for Dave!” Big Bob chortled and the crowd laughed.

  But Annette was pensive, not really in the moment, and Coby watched her shake her head as if pulling herself together with an effort. As she bent to attempt to blow out the candles on the lowest tier, Coby caught Danner’s eyes and they stared at each other a beat. Faith was hovering near his right shoulder, looking somewhat uncertainly at Annette. Coby knew she didn’t know how to feel about her one-time friend.

  Annette managed to get about half of the candles but the rest of them remained stubbornly lit. It took her two more tries, but then everyone clapped and Dave stepped forward and kissed her and handed her a slim blue box.

  “Tiffany’s,” Genevieve exhaled behind Coby.

  “We all like the blue boxes,” Suzette said, dimpling and looking adoringly at Galen.

  Juliet just stared at it with a locked jaw, her expression an echo of Yvette’s, and Yvette was still in pursuit of Benedict.

  Annette’s hand was poised over the lid. She blinked several times, and Coby wondered what the hell was going on with her. It was like she couldn’t keep herself focused even though it was her birthday party. Then she untied the ribbon, pulled off the lid, and lifted a necklace with a gleaming sapphire pendant from the puffy cotton within.

  Chapter 8

  An admiring gasp went around the room like a wave.

  “I know how much you like blue,” Dave said to Annette gently, taking the necklace from his wife’s fingers and slipping it around her neck. It nestled in the hollow of her throat and was surrounded by the fuzzy white sweater, much like it had been nesting within the cotton inside the box.

  Annette held a hand to the necklace at her throat, blinking. “Wow,” she said, her voice quivering a bit. “It’s amazing.”

  Coby’s father chuckled. “You’re supposed to say ‘my husband’s amazing.’ Didn’t I teach you anything?”

  Annette looked at Jean-Claude, then at Juliet and Yvette, who’d reappeared from the back of the house, then Suzette, and finally, Dave. “My husband’s amazing,” she said, and the group laughed again.

  The spell was broken and people started moving around. Coby, whose attention had been fractured by Danner, dragged her attention to the beautiful necklace, cake, festivities. She hung with the women who crowded around Annette to get a closer look.

  “Hubba hubba,” Yvette said, though her voice was flinty.

  McKenna snorted. “So now we know why you’re all dressed up while the rest of us didn’t get the memo!”

  Annette protested, “I didn’t know.”

  “She always dresses like that,” Juliet said, though in black slacks and a green silk blouse she was also a few notches up from the lousy weather/beachwear the rest of them were sporting.

  Danner and Faith were standing back by the windows as Juliet poured cups of coffee from a silver urn. Suzette held up the cake server and asked how many more plates she should fill, but no one was paying attention to her.

  Faith left Danner and came up to Coby. “So, what do you think now?”

  “About . . . the party?”

  “Annette and Dad. Is it real, or an act?”

  “I’m guessing real, based on the necklace,” Coby said. “I hope Lovejoy’s is doing as well as Dad’s making it seem, otherwise he’s in a world of financial hurt.”

  “You always count things up in dollars and cents.”

  “It’s my job.” Coby slid her sister a wry look. “And you do it, too.”

  “I know.” Faith gazed at Annette, who was still accepting the admiration of her guests as they went up to her as if in a receiving line to see the necklace and tell her how lucky she was. “They make me kinda sick. I have to be honest. I will not be able to accept a little brother or sister, and it would kill Mom. Just kill her. You know she’s at the beach this weekend.”

  “Mom. You didn’t tell me that. Where is she?”

  “Up in Seaside, I guess.”

  “Why this weekend?” Coby demanded. “She knows we’re at this party. Is Barry with her?”

  “God, I hope not.” Faith shuddered. “I don’t think she could stand the idea, you know. Annette turning thirty. So she just decided to go by herself. I know she wants me to call her, but I’m not going to.” Faith turned her gaze to Coby. “Where are you staying tonight?”

  “I don’t have a place yet. The Dunes, maybe?”

  She nodded. “That’s where we are.”

  We? Coby couldn’t help wondering, shaken in spite of herself.

  At that moment Danner appeared, threading his way through people to Coby and Faith, carrying two glasses of red. Faith looked a little s
tartled, then said, “I hope one of those is mine.”

  “For you and Coby,” Danner said, holding out a glass to each of them. “Unless you’re over wine,” he said to Coby.

  “Nope.” She had been, but after Faith’s last comment, she wasn’t so sure.

  Faith took her glass, looking from Danner to Coby. “Hmm . . .” was all she said.

  Benedict came through the room in swim trunks and a towel tossed around his neck. Yvette was nowhere to be seen. “Hey, buddy,” Jean-Claude said, putting a restraining hand out to his grandson. “You heading to the hot tub?”

  “Uh-huh.” Benedict tried to ease past the older man’s grip.

  “Your mom know?”

  “She said I could.”

  Jean-Claude and Coby both shot a look through the front windows at the rushing rain slamming into the windows, pouring down the panes. It wouldn’t be much better at the side deck outside the kitchen. Jean-Claude said uncertainly, “Okay, then. I’ll find your mom and we’ll join you.”

  Benedict didn’t wait. He rushed through the crowd toward the door off the living room deck, threading his way. But Yvette, coming from the kitchen, skirted the table and ran after him. “Benedict!” she screamed. “You’re not going in that hot tub!”

  “Oh, chill,” Kirk Grassi said. “I’ll go with him.” He put his empty dessert plate on the table along with his drained wineglass.

  “You have a suit?” Genevieve asked him, surprised. “You’re prepared?”

  “I’m going commando,” he responded and turned toward the kitchen, apparently hearing Yvette, who was yelling at Benedict to go through the garage to access the hot tub rather than using the glass door off the living room to the front deck, where he was aiming. Benedict reluctantly took his hand off the door lever to the deck that wrapped around the back of the house and was currently getting beaten hard by the weather. The garage entrance was definitely a better idea.

  Coby set her glass of wine down to carry a few dirty plates back to the kitchen. She should probably find her cell phone and make a reservation at the Dunes, if there was a reservation to be had. She entered the kitchen and interrupted the end of a tense conversation between Annette and Yvette.