“Watch it,” Huck says. “Please.”

“LeeAnn knew I existed. She knew my name!”

“Yes, and if you read carefully, LeeAnn said that if Rosie didn’t stop seeing Russ, she would call you.” Huck clears his throat. “LeeAnn didn’t condone the relationship for one second, Irene. She never would have. She wasn’t like that.”

“What about you, Huck? You expect me to believe that LeeAnn didn’t tell you what was going on? You weren’t informed that Rosie was seeing a married man?”

“LeeAnn kept her business with Rosie between herself and Rosie.”

“But you were her husband.”

Huck gives Irene a hard stare. “I’m not sure I owe you an explanation.” He sighs. “LeeAnn and Rosie’s relationship was tumultuous, Irene. It had deep fault lines that weren’t visible to the casual observer. Although most of the time things were fine between them, there would be tremors. And some of those tremors turned into earthquakes. I didn’t get in the middle. So, no, I didn’t know Rosie was seeing a married man.”

“And when she started seeing Russ after LeeAnn died? The Invisible Man, Huck? You didn’t ask questions?”

“After LeeAnn died…I was lost for a long time. I was self-absorbed. I knew Rosie was dating someone; I asked to meet him, and Rosie was dead set against it. I didn’t push. Maybe I should have, but she was a grown woman.”

“She was living under your roof! She was your—”

“Daughter,” Huck says. “Yes, yes, she was. But you have two grown children of your own, Irene. Are you accountable for their actions?”

“My sons are good people,” Irene says. “I raised them right.”

“Fine, I agree, you did. That’s not my point. My point is you can’t control how they act. Cash lost the stores in Colorado. Was that your fault? Both Baker and Cash lied to Ayers about who they were when they first got here. Was that your fault?”

“No,” Irene says.

“Rosie made a mistake, Irene, but as the saying goes, it takes two to tango. That affair was fifty percent her fault.” Huck feels his blood pressure rising. “I could just as easily be furious that Russ led Rosie on for so many years. That Russ’s business dealings got her killed. Leaving my granddaughter without a mother!” He’s losing control—and it feels good! Irene isn’t the only one allowed to feel angry and hurt. The affair was 50 percent Russ’s fault, but the illegal business was 100 percent his fault.

Irene stares at Huck for a long second, her eyes narrowed. “‘Love is messy and complicated and unfair,’” she says. “Quote, unquote, from Rosie herself, and I agree. It’s not fair that I have feelings for the man who should be my enemy. Your words just now crystallized our problem. You should be furious with Russ. He was to blame for their deaths, at least indirectly. We’re on different sides of this, Huck. And because of that, I can’t work for you and I can’t live here. I’m sorry.”

“So—what?” Huck says. “You’re quitting and you’re moving out? Where will you go?”

“To Baker’s for the time being, then I’ll figure something out,” Irene says. “It’s none of your concern.”

None of your concern. How can she say that? “What you told Jack and Diane is true?” Huck asks. “You’re striking out on your own? Getting your captain’s license? Starting your own charter? Any idea how difficult that’s going to be? You don’t know anyone on this island except for me.” This comes out all wrong; he sounds like a complete bastard when what he really wants to say is Please don’t leave me.

“I’m going to pack my things,” Irene says. “Which shouldn’t take long, but I’d appreciate it if you weren’t here when I left.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” Huck says. “You’re ordering me out of my own house. After I took you in and gave you a home and gave you a job and…” He wants to say Gave you my love—but no, he won’t let her have the satisfaction. She wants to leave? Fine, she can leave. She wants to throw away the relationship? Great. Maybe she’s right, maybe they are on different sides of this goddamned situation, maybe the stupidest thing he ever did was let her on his boat that first day.

But even as Huck is thinking this, he knows it’s not true. They are on the same side because they’re alive. They’re the survivors. “I’ll leave,” Huck says. “But just remember what you told me yesterday, Irene.”

She cocks an eyebrow. Her expression now is more sassy than angry; she looks like a rebellious teenager.

“You said you would find a way to forgive them.”

Irene retreats to the bedroom and slams the door behind her.

When Huck gets out to his truck, he lights a cigarette and flies down Jacob’s Ladder faster than he should. He checks the spot where the black Jeep with the tinted windows was waiting that morning, but it’s not there. Too bad, because he’s in the mood for a confrontation. He wonders if the woman is a reporter. Or someone sent by the FBI to watch them. Or…someone sent by Croft to watch them. Maybe it’s good that Irene is leaving. He doesn’t need strangers lurking around him and his granddaughter.

When Huck reaches the bottom of the hill, he has to decide where he’s going. He could pick up some barbecue from Candi’s but he won’t be able to eat a thing and Maia would be just as happy with peanut butter and jelly.

Her own charter boat. Ha!

He should have passed the journals on to Vasco. People think they want the truth but they can’t handle the truth! Huck supposes it’s possible that Irene would have reacted like this if he’d given the journals to the FBI without telling her about them. He was damned either way.

He toys with the idea of going to a bar for a beer and a shot, something to calm him down, but that’s not the answer tonight. He could only too easily end up like Mick, chained to a bar stool at CBL making a spectacle of himself.

Huck drives through town, past Mongoose Junction, and up the wide, sweeping hill to the sunset-view spot over Cruz Bay. He pulls over and parks. There are a dozen or so people, several couples and one family, waiting for the sun to drop into the ocean. They have their cameras out—of course. These days, a picture of a thing is more important than the thing itself. But Huck is old enough to remember otherwise. He’s old enough to watch the sun go down and the fiery pink brush-stroking the clouds and do nothing but think.

At first he’s melancholy. The sun is setting on the last day he will ever spend with the Angler Cupcake, Irene Steele.

But then he thinks, No, that won’t do.

He’s a pretty smart guy, resourceful. He’s going to find a way to get her back.

Ayers

The phone rings at midnight but Ayers doesn’t wake up until she feels Winnie’s cold nose pushing against the back of her hand. The dog has proven to be eerily in touch with the human world. Your phone is ringing! Yes, Ayers hears the muffled tone; she digs it out from under the rumpled covers of her bed.

The screen tells her it’s Mick.

Ayers huffs and hits Decline. She was so tired after her shift at La Tapa that she face-planted on her bed still in her uniform, still in her clogs, and when Winnie jumped onto the bed with her, she didn’t protest. The phone goes dark for a second, then lights up again, and again Winnie nudges Ayers.