“She’s a journalist,” the secretary warned.

“I am,” I agreed, “but this is off the record.”

“This way.” Claire Durant lifted a section of counter and ushered me into an office at one side of the reception area. I was happy when she closed the door.

I had prepared a story, this time an all-out lie because I was feeling a little desperate. “Thanks for seeing me. You did go to school with Wendy, right?”

She sat behind her desk and motioned me to the chair in front of it. “We were in drama club together, and probably a few classes.”

“So you knew her pretty well?”

Her smile was perfunctory, more of a placeholder than an expression of delight. “More or less.”

“Did you know she’s living in Seabank again? Temporarily, at least. She’s working at Gracey Group, and she wanted to be closer to our parents.”

“I think I heard she was back.”

I was glad I wasn’t a tardy Seabank student, or one who’d been caught cheating on a test. I launched into my lie. “I want to have a surprise party for her. It’s been so long since she lived here, she’s kind of a fish out of water.” I realized that was a mistake. No one would ever describe my sister that way.

Claire seemed to know that. “Has she made any attempt to find her old friends?”

“I don’t know. I’m just home temporarily. But when I talk to her, she seems lonely.” That, too, was out of character, so I hurried on. “She has little girls, so she’s not getting out a lot, and of course, the job. So I’m hoping I can gather a few old friends for a surprise party, and help her reestablish contacts.”

“That’s an interesting approach.”

“I was hoping you might be able to put me in touch with some of her high school friends. I don’t have her yearbook, so I’m fairly clueless. And besides, I don’t know who stayed in town and who didn’t.”

Claire didn’t reply. I hoped she was forming a guest list for my counterfeit surprise party, but I was doubtful. “Can you help?” I prodded.

She shook her head, and the hoops in her ears swayed gracefully. “Why are you really here, Ryan?”

That took me by surprise. “I told you. I’d like to find some of her old friends.”

“Her old boyfriends?”

I had no idea where she was leading. “Not particularly.”

“Do you have a personal reason for wanting to know who Wendy went out with in her senior year?”

I tried to process this odd turn in our conversation. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Claire picked up a pen and tapped it on her desktop. “I don’t think this is anything I can be involved with.”

“I’m sorry. I just thought you might know some people who’d like to see Wendy again.”

“I don’t know who she was close to. She always had a lot of boyfriends.” She emphasized “lot.”