The morning and afternoon pass quietly, with Tiny and me swimming by the dock and ordering a massive food delivery from Bob’s. Ella has been texting me on and off all day, which has had me buzzing for hours. But then I’ll remember that this is a case and that Ella doesn’t even know my real name, and I trade my high for grim dissonance.
Now sprawled on the wicker furniture on Tiny’s deck, we wind down our strategy discussion, each of us offering thoughts sporadically. Silence with Tiny is easy; we’re more family than friends.
A screen door snaps shut and we both turn our heads. Bentley enters his yard, picking up weights. He keeps looking over at Tiny’s porch. Not the way he usually does where he tries to get Tiny’s attention by peacocking, but more like he’s frustrated. And then there’s Tiny, who’s looking anywhere but at him.
“Weren’t you supposed to help Bentley with the twins today?” I ask, trying to suss out what I’m missing.
“Trying to get rid of me?” she says cheerfully. But by the way she pulls at the hem of her tank top, I know she’s antsy.
“Never.”
“Well, good,” she says.
We fall into another silence.
“You really think this is going to work?” I ask.
“My plan? Yeah, I do.” She pulls her legs up onto the chair cushion. “Justin will undoubtedly pressure her into something tonight.” Tiny examines a mosquito bite on her knee. “Then all I have to do is be there at the right moment when Justin acts like a schmuck, so I can call him out.”
“Yeah,” I say, unsure.
Tiny looks up. “If you have a concern, now is the time to voice it.”
I hesitate. “If Ella takes his side, you know we’re screwed, right?”
“Which is exactly why I’m calling him out and not you. Even if it pisses them both off, friendly concern is easy to recover from. New guy friend trash-talking her popular boyfriend, on the other hand? We’d get ourselves shunned by the entire group.”
I nod, trying not to think about the many ways this could end with Ella hating me, and also hating that I care about that.
“I know Ella’s talking to you more openly, and that’s amazing,” Tiny says. “But honestly that’s all the more reason we should kick up some dust, put up a few neon arrows pointing toward Justin’s douchiness, and hopefully seal the deal.”
I stretch my arms above my head, leaning back in my wicker chair.
“What’s with the sudden cold feet anyway?” she asks. “Two days ago, you thought it was brilliant.”
“It is,” I say and squint at the water beyond the dock.
“Good. It’s settled,” she says and sits up, giving Bentley a glance. “In which case . . . I guess now is as good a time as ever to help him.”
“I should probably go shower anyway,” I say, getting up and heading down her porch stairs onto the lawn. I frown at Bentley before I turn. Even though Tiny says it’s just a favor, I don’t love her hanging out with him—I wouldn’t put it past him to try something, and I’d really rather not go to prison for killing my next-door neighbor.
“I’ll help you pick out your outfit later!” Tiny calls after me.
I shake my head as I cross my lawn.
As I enter my kitchen, I feel a compulsion to glance back through the window at Tiny, who’s now talking to Bentley in his yard. While I can’t hear what they’re saying, Tiny’s arms are crossed and she’s wicked uncomfortable. Bentley hardly looks at her.
Something about it makes me uneasy. It’s not that I care if they’re awkward, but what would they even have to be awkward about?