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But Lila was already moving away, hurrying past the pillars separating the living and dining areas. At the far end of a long table, Brit Watkins was huddled with Reva Santiago and Billy Dee Johnson around an open laptop. Reva wore a sleek black suit and a white blouse, her black hair cut in layers to her shoulders. Billy Dee was dressed more casually in sweats and a T-shirt, as if he’d just jogged off the practice field. His bald head shined in the glow of another chandelier as he picked up one of Brit’s catering menus. Brit appeared uncomfortable in the straight-backed chair. The trio, in deep discussion over their tasks of planning food, drinks, and games or contests, had not seemed to notice that Rachel had arrived.
“She never listens, does she?” Nate asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks and hitching his chin toward Lila. Still tall and lanky, his hair as brown and thick as she remembered, Nate would probably be a candidate for the most unchanged since graduation. A few faint lines were visible near the corners of his eyes, the beginnings of crow’s feet, but other than that, he looked about the same as he had when they’d graduated.
“Never.”
Lila was already filling two glasses at a mirrored sideboard that was laden with trays of food, gleaming stemware, and open bottles of wine, soda, and hard liquor.
In the middle of the display, three white candles had been lit, tiny flames flickering around a small bouquet of violets in a glass vase, obviously a tribute to Violet Sperry.
Geez. Lila must have moved on that quickly.
Sadness crawled through Rachel all over again.
Lila was returning with the drinks and had caught Rachel’s gaze. Handing a short glass to Nate, she explained, “I felt I had to do something.” She touched the rim of her wineglass to Nate’s, then took a long drink of wine. “I couldn’t just ignore the fact that she’d died today.”
Rachel didn’t say anything.
“Right?” Lila prompted.
“I guess.”
“She was killed, Rach. Murdered. In her own home. Last night, or early this morning. I just thought . . . you know, we needed to make some kind of statement. We couldn’t ignore it. She graduated with us.”
“Sure.” That was so Lila. “It’s just . . .”
“. . . so weird, I know.” Another big gulp of wine.
“Rachel!” Brit scraped her chair back. She’d finally noticed that Rachel had arrived and was blinking back tears as she awkwardly made her way around the end of the table. “It’s horrible. Horrible.”
“Unbelievable,” Rachel said, and to her surprise Brit hugged her for a second, pulling her close despite her baby bump.
Brit dabbed at her eyes. “Sorry. I’m emotional. Pregnancy hormones, y’know.”
“We all feel it,” Rachel said, hiding her surprise at being hugged by a woman who usually could barely scratch up a smile for her.
Nate agreed. “It’s sick,” he said.
From the corner of her eye, Rachel noticed that Reva and Billy Dee had abandoned their spots at the table and were walking toward the group. Reva carried a glass of red wine, and Billy Dee came around the other side of the table.
Oh. Great. She knew she shouldn’t have come. Within half a minute everyone on the committee was clustered in the living room.
“I saw her at the dog groomer’s, the one with that stupid play on words—what’s it called? Oh, Doggie Bartique, the one on Third Street—just last week. My schnauzer needed his nails clipped,” Reva reported as she joined the others in front of the cold fireplace. “Anyway, she was there with her three dogs and we waited at the counter, making small talk, you know. I can’t believe it. Now she’s gone. I hadn’t seen her in years—I mean years—and there we were talking about the stupid dogs. It’s surreal, y’know. Why would anyone . . . ?” Her voice faded and for once Reva seemed at a loss for words. She was pretty and smart, a woman who’d always used her good looks and brains to her advantage. She’d been a cheerleader, of course, and in the choir and drama club. Their senior year raven-haired Reva had sung and danced to deliver a stand-out performance in Bye, Bye Birdie.
And, for a while back then, before Lila had turned his head, Luke had dated Reva. Exclusively. Reva had been head over heels for him.
Now an attorney, Reva was as slim as she had been in high school, but her features had sharpened with age. If she still harbored any bad feelings for Lila, she did a damned good job of hiding them. Then again, she’d been a pretty good actress twenty years ago.
“Maybe she wasn’t targeted.” Billy Dee rubbed the back of his neck, and despite the cool temperature, he was sweating, beads visible on his bald pate. “Could’ve been a random thing. Y’know, a burglary gone bad.”
“You think?” Nate asked, not hiding his skepticism.
“Who knows?” Billy Dee shrugged his shoulders. “These days that kind of shit happens.”
“Makes sense to me,” Reva agreed. “I’d actually rather believe that than think someone wanted to kill her specifically.”
“Now wait a second. Can we let this go for a few minutes and maybe, you know, talk about the reunion, the reason we’re here?” Lila asked. “This is too morbid. And we don’t know anything anyway.”
“It’s just hard to concentrate,” Brit said.
