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“I’m not interested in locking down anyone.”
“Casual’s good, too,” Bree mused. “What’s good for the gander and all that.”
“I don’t have time to date.”
She laughed. “Who’s talking about dating? I’m talking about having some fun. Fun would do you some good.”
Fun? I didn’t have time for that either. My one goal was to save enough money to move out of my father’s house. My baby sister, Gabi, had finally graduated high school and would be leaving in the fall on a full-ride scholarship to UNC Chapel Hill. With her safely away, my brother and I would be free in a way we’d never been before because we’d both stuck in order to protect her. I was so damned close to being able to afford something of my own. Maybe not a lot of something, but anything was better than staying in the same house as him. Once I was safely out from under our father’s thumb, maybe I’d be able to convince Rios to actually leave the island. His life here had been thoroughly ruined by a crime he hadn’t committed. There was nothing left for him on Hatterwick. But I suspected he wouldn’t budge unless I did, and I wasn’t ready to leave the island, despite our father. This was home.
“Speaking of fun, when is Ford getting home?”
Ford Donoghue was a sure-fire means of changing the subject. While he was one of Rios’s best friends, Bree and Ford had been practically joined at the hip since elementary school. She’d always been one of the guys. A position she’d never seemed to mind. But since I’d gotten to know her better the past few years working the bar, I’d started to wonder if there was something more there than friendship. She’d taken his leaving for college hard and the news of his college girlfriend even harder.
“His moms were in for lunch earlier. He’s hooking up with Jace in Hilton Head. Then they’re both coming home next week sometime.”
Jace Hollingsworth was another of my brother’s best friends, much to the disappointment of his parents. I suspected his dad especially hated how close Jace was to all the Wayward Sons—the nickname Rios and his friends had given themselves years before. As the son of a well-respected environmental attorney, the elder Hollingsworths tolerated Ford. But Rios, the son of a boat mechanic, and Sawyer Malone, progeny of a fisherman who spent more time in the bottle than on the water, definitely didn’t pass muster. I loved Jace for thumbing his nose at his parents’ snobbery and maintaining those bonds of forged brotherhood. That would be easier to do now. His parents had moved off-island a couple years ago, after Gwen Busby’s disappearance and his sister Willa’s near drowning. Other than Jace, I didn’t think any of them had been back since then.
I loaded the drinks onto a tray. “Do the boys have big plans for the reunion?”
“I’m sure they do.” The trace of resentment lacing her tone suggested she expected them to ditch her.
I hoped they didn’t. But I also knew the four of them had something together that didn’t include Bree.
“Order up for seventeen and nine!”
Pivoting toward the pass-thru, I added the plates of food to my tray and headed back into the fray to deliver them. The crowd was getting thicker as more people came in from the beaches and whatever afternoon activities they’d pursued. I dropped off the orders and paused to take a few more before I made it back to the McNamara’s table.
“Sorry for the delay.”
Hoyt flashed a smile that had two deep dimples winking in his darkly stubbled cheeks. I ignored the way my stomach shimmied at those dimples. “It’s no problem. Looks like it’s jumping in here.”
I cast a quick glance back at the restaurant, noting we were down to only two empty tables. “Gonna get worse before the night is through. Is there anything else I can get you?”
Before either man could answer, a male voice from a nearby table filled a momentary drop in the din. “Two years later and still no justice for that missing girl… almost like someone got away with murder here.”
I recognized that snide voice. Chet Banks. Holding myself very still, I fought to keep my smile in place as the conversation continued.
“If it was up to me, that whole family would be run right off the island after what the boy did.”
If I’d had any doubt that the McNamaras could hear, it was put to rest as I saw temper flare in Hoyt’s green eyes.
“Supposedly, the cops didn’t have quite enough to charge the brother. Tragic that no other evidence turned up.” Marcus Hoffman. He wasn’t usually a problem unless Chet was around to play ringleader.
“I catch even a whiff of that girl’s bones washing up, and there’ll be hell to pay.”
Mortified and furious, I struggled to maintain my calm. They’d meant for me to hear. This was all intended to get a rise out of me. But I’d learned a long time ago that I should never respond. Responding just gave them more fuel.
But before I’d gathered my wits enough to repeat my question about whether the guys needed anything else, Hoyt was out of his seat, striding over to the table of assholes.
“You’re out of line.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s innocent until proven guilty where I come from. And, last I checked, guilt by association isn’t a thing in this country. No one should be harassed for the accused crimes of family members when there’s no proof or charges against them personally. Oh, that’s right. There hasn’t been proof or charges against her brother, either. It’s unjust and unethical to spread blame without cause.”
Chet huffed. “Unjust and unethical. Listen to this shit. Tell that to the dead girl’s parents and see if they think it’s unfair.”
Hoyt didn’t move, but I saw the stiffening of his posture and the twitch of the fingers that clearly wanted to curl into fists. I knew the signs, and I didn’t know what to do with it. Apparently, his brother recognized it too, because suddenly Drew was there, too, forming a human wall between me and the other two men.
