“Still no word from the almighty Victoria?” Campbell readjusted her position on our dock, stretching out in the sun. “Or the White Gloves?”
Campbell had invited herself over and brought Sadie-Grace along. Lily still had enough hostess in her that she hadn’t turned either of them away. She wasn’t saying much, though. Her birthday had passed the week before with only minimal—by Taft family standards, at least—fanfare. Lily hadn’t wanted a party. Now she sat at the end of the dock, facing the lake, silent. Despite the heat, she wore a long-sleeved shirt.
“Victoria’s daddy died, Campbell,” Sadie-Grace said emphatically.
“Not entirely unreasonable that some things would be put on hold,” I added. Like White Glove initiations—or our search for Ana’s baby.
Campbell caught my gaze—and my drift. Sadie-Grace, who was standing between the two of us and Lily, gave a little twirl.
“You’re going to pirouette right off this dock,” Campbell told her.
“No, she’s not,” Lily said, without even looking back.
Campbell glanced at Lily. “Will Lily freak out if I ask if y’all have heard the news about Ana?” she asked me.
“Lily doesn’t freak out,” Sadie-Grace said loyally.
“The bob says otherwise,” Campbell replied.
Sadie-Grace put her hands on her hips. “If the bob could speak, it would speak French.”
“What about Ana?” Lily interjected, still facing the water.
“She was in Mr. Gutierrez’s will,” Campbell reported. “In a big way. There’s a trust for the other grandchildren, but he left Ana half of her father’s share of the inheritance. Directly.”
I thought back to the night on King’s Island when we’d buried and burned and shared our secrets. “Victoria said she wasn’t in her father’s will.”
“From what I’ve heard,” Campbell replied lightly, “she wasn’t. And neither was her mother. Mr. Gutierrez’s sons are supposedly charged with taking care of them both, but . . .”
But we’ll see how that goes.
“So Ana is set for life now.” Lily stood, her hands disappearing inside the long sleeves. She had to be burning up out here but didn’t show it. “Maybe she can pay back all of that money my father gave to her.”
I searched for some hint of emotion in her tone and came up blank.
“I talked to my grandfather,” Campbell said suddenly. “About Ana’s baby.”
“We don’t have to talk about this,” I told Lily, unsure if she was in a place to handle any more talk about Ana.
Lily turned back to look at me. “I don’t mind.”
Part of me was glad that she had gotten to the point where the mention of Ana’s name didn’t hurt her. The other part couldn’t help thinking that pain was the body’s warning system. Things hurt because they were supposed to.
That’s how you know you’re too involved.
“What did your grandfather say?” I asked Campbell, keeping an eye on Lily and my mind in the moment—and not on Nick, who’d never told me why he’d stood me up at the Gutierrez party that night.
“The great Davis Ames told me the same story he told you,” Campbell replied. “He paid Ana. She disappeared. He has no idea what happened to the baby.”
“Maybe he or she was adopted by a very nice family,” Sadie-Grace suggested, stretching one leg up until it nearly touched her ear. “With a very flexible older sister!”
She was obviously thinking of herself and baby Audie, but my mind went to a different place—and to a different older sister. Hope.
“Funny you should mention that,” I told Sadie-Grace. “My perusal of the White Gloves dossiers did yield a possibility. . . .”
I told them about Summer—about her blond hair and brown eyes, the cancer, her date of birth.
“Was that the only possibility that jumped out at you?” Campbell asked me in a tone that suggested that she was probably going to make me pay for not mentioning any of this until now.
“No,” I said, but I couldn’t bring myself to elaborate on Victoria’s other theory.
As luck would have it, I didn’t have to.
“It could be me,” Campbell stated, finally earning Lily’s complete and undiluted attention. “It’s not like my grandfather would admit it if it was.”
“You?” Sadie-Grace was almost comically wide-eyed.
“Walker was always Daddy’s favorite,” Campbell said, looking at Lily, even though it was Sadie-Grace she was responding to. “I was supposed to be Mama’s.”
“His and hers,” I said, because she’d told me that once. “Like towels.”
“And yet . . .” Campbell dragged out the words. “Mama and I have always been like oil and water, gotten along like a house on fire, insert conflict-laden cliché of your choice here. She adores Walker. She’s never adored me. My birthday’s almost here, and she hasn’t said a word.”
“Do you think your mama forgot your birthday?” Sadie-Grace asked, wide-eyed.
“I’m not really wondering about Mama and my birthday,” Campbell said, her voice flat.
“You’re wondering if you’re really hers.” I cut straight to the thick of it.
“Maybe I’m not,” Campbell tossed out. “Maybe I’m just my father’s daughter. It would explain some things, not least among them why Walker and I are so close in age.”
“And why your mama . . .” Sadie-Grace started that sentence but didn’t finish it.
“Doesn’t find me to her taste?” Campbell suggested. “I always just figured she fell head over heels in love with Walker the day he was born, and I came so soon afterward there just wasn’t any more oxytocin bonding hormone left over for me.”
“What about Boone?” Sadie-Grace asked suddenly. “He’s the right age, too. Your dad and his mom are twins. And he’s so much more injury-prone than the rest of you.”
I so did not want to know how Sadie-Grace had injured Boone now.
“I’m going to change the subject,” Campbell told Sadie-Grace, “before you take a shortcut to TMI.” She pivoted. “In case any of you were wondering, I’m planning an epic birthday party, but it is so epic that it will require months of planning and will thus be held on my half birthday, once this summer and all of its drama is just a blip in the mirror.” Campbell didn’t give any of us the chance to reply before she changed the subject a second time. “Now, who wants to hear my update on the Lady of the Lake?”
I saw Lily shiver, even though she couldn’t have possibly been cold. It was a hundred degrees out, and the rest of us were sweltering in swimsuits.
“What update?” Lily said quietly.
“My ‘friend’ at the deputy’s office says they’re bringing in a forensic sculptor.” Campbell awaited our response.
Sadie-Grace raised her hand. “Do I want to know what a forensic sculptor is?”
“That depends,” Campbell replied coyly. “Do you want a play-by-play on how someone can reconstruct a face from a skull?”