The restaurant was open to the outside with seating on the beach, but the weather was cool enough that only a few stragglers accepted those tables. Most preferred to eat inside, then walk out for a picture.
Ismay sat with Bastian at one of the best tables, which had warmth and a view—and she knew it was because the maître d’ had recognized Bastian, who’d also slipped him a few bills. Remy did the same type of thing. He expected the very best wherever they went, but it wasn’t quite so easy to obtain preferential treatment in LA, where there were a lot of rich and famous people. On Mariners, his family’s name and wealth made more of a difference.
Bastian ordered a whiskey and then bluefin tuna. The waiter said it was unusual to have tuna this early in the season, so Bastian tried to convince her to order it, too, but she got a seared scallop appetizer with butternut squash puree and a mojito.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything else?” Bastian asked as they surrendered their menus.
“No. I’m not hungry.”
“Well, save room for dessert. This is a celebration.”
“Of what?” she asked in surprise.
“My reformation,” he teased. “What else?”
His self-deprecation could be disarming, but Ismay was still wary. “I have to admit, I’m starting to like you better.”
“I knew you would.” He laughed. That he could turn on the charm so easily begged the question—why didn’t he make the effort more often? And what had finally convinced him to try with her?
“So...tell me about you and Remy,” he said.
“What about us?” she asked.
“How’d you meet? What attracted you to him? How are you still together despite his neglect while he’s studying? And when do you plan to get married?”
Since she lived with Remy, she knew the two brothers didn’t speak very often. They’d never gotten along, preferred to avoid each other. But they’d traveled to Vale and Italy together since Ismay had been with Remy. Certainly, Remy must’ve mentioned her. Or at least some of what he’d told his parents should’ve filtered through. “You don’t know any of this?”
“I’d like to hear it from your perspective.”
She leaned back as the waiter delivered her mojito and his whiskey served “up.”
“We met at the school library. I don’t know why he sat down next to me, but—”
“Quit being so modest,” he broke in. “You have to know why any single man would sit next to you. It’s obvious to everyone else.”
She felt herself blush. Now he was lavishing her with compliments to the point she was embarrassed they still flattered her. “Well, I guess he found me attractive. And then he struck up a conversation and returned the next day and the day after until, a few days later, he asked me out.”
“Where’d he take you on your first date?”
“To a fancy place called APL Restaurant on Hollywood Boulevard. He said Jake Gyllenhaal and other celebrities had been spotted there.”
She’d told Bo that Remy’s money had nothing to do with her attraction to him, but that wasn’t entirely true. She wasn’t after his money, but there was something about the confidence money could give—the safety and security—that helped her relax. Her parents had to stretch every dollar, especially while she was growing up, so it was a relief to have more than enough, even if it she could only enjoy it through someone who was close to her. Remy liked good food, fine wine, and doing fun things, and shared all of that with her.
“Why haven’t you joined for any of the family trips he’s invited you on?” Bastian asked.
“There’ve only been two, and they both fell on holidays.”
He looked confused. “When you were out of school...”
“Yes, but that was also when I’d promised my own family I’d be home.”
He took a sip of his whiskey. “So you’re loyal, even if it means missing Europe or a fabulous ski trip to Vale...”
“You could put it that way, I guess. I didn’t want to disappoint my parents. These days, I rarely get to see them and my siblings.” She didn’t volunteer that she already felt slightly disconnected from her family since leaving the religion that was such a big part of their lives. She didn’t want to do anything to separate herself further.
“What do they think of you spending the summer on Mariners?”
“I think they wish I’d come home instead, but they’ve accepted it.” The topic of this conversation had created a perfect opportunity to tell him about Jack. She was afraid “nice” Bastian would disappear, and he’d revert to the man she’d first met, but it would seem strange if she didn’t speak up now that they were discussing her family. “I don’t know if Remy’s told you, but Jack, the brother closest to me in age, has decided to come here.” She checked the time on her phone. “He actually arrives tonight.”
Bastian rocked back. “Your brother’s coming here? Tonight? For how long?”
“That’s yet to be determined. He’s going through a hard time—a divorce—so nothing’s for sure. It’s a chance to escape all the gossip, as well as his estranged wife, and spend some time meditating on what he really wants for his future.”
A contemplative expression crept over Bastian’s face. “Is he staying at the cottage?”
She was glad she could say no. But she didn’t want to tell him Jack was staying with Bo, either. He’d find it strange, which was why she hadn’t even told Remy yet. “I got him a room at Hotel Mariners,” she said and left it there. Technically, that wasn’t a lie. She did get Jack a room at Hotel Mariners, but she’d already given it up. Still, it would seem more natural if Bastian and Remy thought staying with Bo was something that’d cropped up after her brother had been at the hotel for a few days.
“Interesting,” he said.
She shifted in her seat. “In what way?”
“In a lot of ways.” Finished with his third—or was it fourth—whiskey, he flagged down the waiter to get him another one.
He’d already had plenty to drink. She was afraid he wouldn’t be able to walk home, but she didn’t say anything. At least they were finally getting along. “I hope you don’t mind that’s he’s coming...”
His lips curved into a smile that showed such perfect teeth, she wondered if they were veneers. Maybe that was one way she could tell the brothers apart, she realized. Remy’s teeth were more natural in color. “Me?” he said. “No way. The more the merrier. I’m just surprised he’s not staying with us.”
“I didn’t want to take advantage of your parents’ generosity. And Remy’s looking forward to a certain kind of summer. I think it’ll be better—for everyone—if Jack stays somewhere else.”
He spun his glass around on the table. “Remy knows your brother’s coming and didn’t insist he stay at the cottage?”
She didn’t want to make her fiancé look selfish, especially to someone who already seemed to think the worst of him. So she said, “Jack insisted. He doesn’t mind.”
“That’s got to be expensive. But...okay. I can’t wait to see how he and Remy get along.”
What did Bastian mean by that? “Jack can get along with anyone.”
He chuckled softly. “I wish I could say the same for Remy.”
He’d found it. Bo studied the image that’d come up when he performed a Google search for house fire kills girl on Mariners and compared it to the photograph on his phone. They looked so similar it had to be the same person.
Her name was Lyssa Helberg, and she died nine years ago in June, only a year or so after her family had moved to Mariners from Boulder, Colorado. It’d been long enough that people wouldn’t still be talking about the incident, which was why he hadn’t heard anything about it.
“Thank God for Honey,” he murmured as he read the articles attached to the various headlines.
Girl, 19, Dies in House Fire
Power Outage, Candles, Booze—Recipe for Death
McMurtrys Sell Home for $2 Million Less Than True Value
No Charges Filed in McMurtry Case
Bo searched every article he could find for mentions of the Windsor boys. The girl would’ve been a couple of years younger than they were when she lost her life, but the party hadn’t been exclusive. While the articles included statements from several of the partygoers, neither Remy nor Bastian was one of them.
It was possible Remy had known her. Cared about her.
But that didn’t explain the underwear and jewelry. Nothing Bo could think of explained the underwear and jewelry, certainly not better than what seemed to be the most logical answer—that Remy, or someone, was peeping on women, assaulting women, or worse.
That was what his experience as an ex-convict suggested, and it was downright terrifying—so terrifying he couldn’t accept it. What were the chances?
Next to nil, he told himself. He wanted to keep focusing on this problem, keep searching to find the people quoted in those articles. One of them might be able to tell him if Remy or Bastian had been there that night.
But if word got back to any of the Windsors that he was digging up the past—questioning people about Remy’s and Bastian’s whereabouts that night—it might not go over well. They’d certainly wonder what he was after, and he couldn’t imagine they’d take it as a friendly gesture.
Dare he push the issue?
Time was getting away from him, he realized. He needed to get the spare bedroom ready for Jack. Ismay was probably on her way to get him right now.
Bastian insisted on paying for dinner, and Ismay let him because he was the one who’d extended the invitation and insisted she go, even though she’d told him she wasn’t hungry.
Afterward, he acted as if he’d accompany her to the airport. But she managed to sidestep that—barely—by saying it would be better if she had a little time alone with Jack. She could tell Bastian didn’t like not getting what he wanted, making it awkward having to insist, especially since she was using the Windsors’ Jeep. But she had no idea what shape her brother would be in emotionally and could easily guess he wouldn’t be excited to meet anyone, especially one of the Windsors, as soon as he walked off the plane. Beyond that, Jack didn’t know he couldn’t tell Bastian he was staying with Bo. She didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable about it.
If she could just keep Remy’s brother and Jack separated for a few days—long enough to create a believable story on how Jack came to be staying in Bo’s bungalow—everything would be okay. She hoped she’d be able to say that Jack had needed something to keep himself occupied while he was on the island, and she’d known Bo could use his help. Then she’d explain that after a day of working together, Bo had invited him to stay since he had an extra bedroom. She felt that would be her best chance of ensuring no one, including Remy, had a problem with the arrangement.
The cobblestone streets caused the Jeep to shimmy as she passed the quaint shops and restaurants downtown, with their mid-nineteenth century architecture and sidewalk dining beneath the tall leafy elm trees that lined most major streets. She wanted to take Jack out to eat before going to Bo’s so they could have some time to talk. But it would be rude to arrive at Bo’s too late, so she thought she’d order some food while Jack was deplaning and take it over to Bo’s. With any luck, by the time she returned to Windsor Cottage, Bastian would be asleep—or if he continued to drink, maybe he’d just pass out. She’d never seen anyone consume so much alcohol in one night.
The parking lot was nearly full, but she managed to find a space along the perimeter. Then she used her phone to place an order for three meals of fish and chips at a restaurant that had fabulous Yelp reviews and hurried inside the small airport, where Boeing Business Jets, carrying sixteen people, took off and landed—weather permitting—several times a day.
While she waited in the crowded room for Jack’s plane to come in, she received a text from her mother. Has he arrived yet?
Not yet, she wrote back. I’ll let you know when I’ve got him.
Good. I’m worried about him. But I’m glad you convinced him to leave this place. Tongues here are already wagging.
Ismay had known they would be, but she was still surprised her mother would admit she was glad Jack had the opportunity to leave. She’d thought her parents would be angry she’d tempted him away from the farm.
I’ll take good care of him. Have you talked to Ashleigh?
I tried calling her. She won’t pick up.
Ismay was going to leave it there, but her mother sent another message.
Ashleigh’s mother called me today, though.
Marie? What’d she have to say?
She was in tears. Said she couldn’t understand what had possessed her daughter to do what she did.
She doesn’t believe Ashleigh’s gay?
You know what she believes.
That sexuality was a choice—despite all the scientific research indicating otherwise.
What do *you* believe?
Don’t bait me, Ismay. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’m just glad you’re there to help us get through this.
Ismay smiled at her mother’s message. Suddenly, the gulf between them didn’t seem quite so wide. Maybe the tragedy of Jack’s divorce would pull them back together, so there’d be a silver lining to all the pain.
Travelers coming from the tarmac began to stream into the building. Ismay waited anxiously until she saw her brother, who was easy to spot because of his height, even though he was at the back of the line. He wore a world-weary expression that made him look much older than when she’d seen him last, with hollow eyes and tousled hair.
“You okay?” she murmured as he reached her and bent to give her a hug.
“I’m breathing,” he said.
“You’re going to get through this.”
His mouth twisted into an approximation of a smile. “I’m glad you’re confident.”
“I am.” She drew him toward the baggage claim area. “How was it, flying for your first time?”
“If I had more fight in me, I would’ve been scared to death,” he said with the same wry note in his voice. “Instead, I was praying we’d just go down, and it’d all be over.”
She swatted his arm. “Don’t talk like that.”
“It was a joke,” he mumbled, but she didn’t fully believe him.
As soon as his bag showed up, he wheeled it out while she led him to the Jeep. “I got your text when I landed,” he said. “So... I won’t be at the hotel, after all?”
“No. You’ll have a room in the bungalow, where the Windsors’ caretaker lives, which will be free.”
“The free part’s nice. I was a little stressed about how much it’ll cost. So I’m staying with the caretaker, and you’re staying with Remy’s brother?”
“Yes. But the cottage is very close.”
“I’m not worried about that. It’s just...isn’t it sort of weird that it’s just the two of you?”
“To be honest? Yes,” she said. “No one knew Bastian was going to show up. And I’m hoping he won’t be here long. Then you can hang out at the cottage with me until Remy arrives, and by then, I’m hoping the house-sitting gig will materialize.”
“Remy doesn’t want me at the cottage?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Nothing else explains it. Seems like a welcoming brother-in-law, sis.”
Ismay couldn’t miss the sarcasm. Jack had always had a dry sense of humor. “Stop. He’s just...a little spoiled,” she admitted.
“A little?” he echoed, and when they both laughed, Ismay felt a measure of relief. Thank God she’d been able to convince Jack to leave Utah. With time, she felt her brother would be okay. He had a long road ahead of him, though.
“You’re going to love Bo,” she said with confidence.
He looked askance at her as he deposited his bag in the back of the Jeep. “How well do you know this guy?”
“He helped me get through the storm.”
“And is that affection I detect in your voice?”
Hoping the darkness hid her burning face, Ismay refused to meet his gaze. “No. He’s just...a cool guy.”
“Cooler than Remy?”
In some ways, yes. But she wasn’t about to admit that. “They’re very different. I like them both.”
He froze. “Did you just say you like Remy?”
Growing flustered, she gestured for him to get in the car. “I don’t remember you being this difficult.”
“I can’t pretend I’ll be any fun while I’m here. I feel like the living dead.”
“Sometimes terrible things turn out to be what’s best in the end.”
He sighed as if he couldn’t believe that could apply to him. “That’s just what everyone says when they don’t know how to fix something.”
“You’ll see,” she promised and reached out to cover his large hand, already calloused from years of work on the farm, with hers.