She was out of her element in the HOA meeting and particularly so once the banter turned to her own house.
Whoever the Carl Carlson character was who’d lived there before clearly had a reputation. The odd thing was that no one had ever seen him. Heard from him. No one knew him.
Quinn couldn’t decide if it was a point of interest for her or a point of concern. For now, she was more focused on getting the house in good enough shape to bring Vivi there. Yes, that was it. She had her goal, but still she needed to apply a timeline.
Jude cleared her throat, dragging the group’s attention to her. “Annette mentioned a block party?”
“Oh, right!” Annette jumped on this nugget and ran with it. “A block party. Beverly? Did you want to get into it?”
Quinn watched as Beverly formed a measured response. Something about Beverly felt familiar. Not her looks—her warm chestnut hair or honey-colored eyes. She had a slight build to match her unassuming face, but she was put-together. Pretty and stylish, as though she spent an inordinate amount of time preparing herself for each day.
Quinn knew what it was like to prepare herself for the day. The rituals. The exhaustion, too. Was that it? Behind Beverly’s meticulous exterior…was it exhaustion?
“Right, well, I thought it might be nice for us to form a new tradition, of sorts,” Beverly began, glancing around the room.
“Everyone goes to Main Street for the Fourth. That’s where the party is,” Annette pointed out, her lips curling mischievously.
One of the others—Quinn couldn’t recall all their names quite yet—chimed in. “Judith, don’t you coordinate the Main Street event? What, you even have a name, right?”
Judith—or Jude, as she’d corrected the others—answered, “Freedom on Main Street, that’s right.” She said it with a half sigh, her typical polite-if-curt smile entirely absent.
“What?” Annette asked. “You’re not putting it on or something?” Quinn had quickly learned that Annette tried hard to read people. Whether she was right in her readings remained to be seen. But she sure gave it a go. She…cared. Too much? Quinn wasn’t sure. If it weren’t for the three visits so far, it might not have even stood out to her yet. But Annette had “popped over” with cookies, lemonade, and a full-blown welcome basket on those separate occasions, each time prying a tad more than the previous.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jude answered.
“It’s less than a month out. Have you been in touch with the council?” Annette pressed her.
Quinn felt the rumble of discomfort in her stomach. She took a small sip of her drink, willing it to pass. She had grown to fear confrontation—her own and others’. This had come from Vivi, naturally. Not Vivi. Quinn cursed herself silently for the thought. The fear of confrontation hadn’t come from Vivi, it had come from Quinn’s poor attempt at parenting Vivi. All that Vivi was or wasn’t had everything to do with all that Quinn was or wasn’t.
Jude shrugged. “Sure, I have. I mean, the event practically runs itself. We don’t gear up until the week of. We have time.”
“Then we have time to make a change,” Annette replied.
“Jude,” Beverly went on, “do you think you might be willing to start a new tradition?”
“And betray the rest of the town?” one of the other neighbors asked, guilt coating her voice.
“I never said betray the rest of the town,” Beverly defended herself. “I just wonder if she might be willing to focus her talents even more locally for once. Just this year, even. To get us started. Or maybe you could consult for us.”
“It’s a block party,” Annette spat flatly then laughed at herself. “Hiring a consultant for a block party? How HOA are we?” She rolled her eyes. “Jude, you give us some direction, and we can pitch in at the Harbor Hills event in return.” Quinn saw Annette wink directly at Beverly. “A midday block party on Apple Hill, and then the usual festivities on Main.”
Jude shrugged a second time and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Quinn saw glimmers of gray peek through the neat coif. Something was off about Jude. The first time Quinn met her—out in Birch Harbor—she was a different woman. Icy and severe and elegant.
Now, she looked…normal?
“Apple Pie on Apple Hill,” Jude answered, a small grin forming on her lips. “I’m in.”
Quinn smiled along with the others, who dove into Jude’s idea with enthusiasm. Then, she felt a buzz at her thigh. Her phone.
Discreetly, she reached into her small purse and removed it, studying the screen.
It was Vivi. Warmth flooded Quinn’s body, but it left just as quickly. Confusion took its place. Ice-cold, heart-numbing confusion.
I still can’t believe you moved next door to a murderer.