Once again that day, Annie didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure if she should tell the truth, but if she didn’t there was always a chance Lucy would find out, thanks to their living on an island. In any event, Lucy was smart enough to know that, if Annie was stalling, she was trying to hide something. So she said, “I ran into Jonas. We grabbed a bite.”

“Jonas? Like, my friend Jonas?”

Annie nodded. “We talked about art. I told you I’m thinking about using paintings from local artists to decorate the Inn.” She praised herself for landing upright on her verbal feet.

“I didn’t know you wanted to use Jonas’s. That’d be cool.”

Annie put the Jeep into reverse and backed out of the space. Until that moment, she hadn’t known it, either. But, why not? Because he was too young? Or because he was Taylor’s son and Annie still hadn’t completely warmed up to the woman? “Well, I haven’t seen any of his pieces up close, but I’d like to give it a try.” Even if his work wasn’t to her taste, surely she could find somewhere to hang a canvas or two. It might be worth it solely to be a good neighbor. And a friend to someone who seemed to need a few. “But I think he’s leaving the island. Have you talked to him lately?”

Scowling, Lucy said, “I texted him this morning. I asked if he wanted to grab a few beers today.”

Annie paused. She did not want to seem shocked. She tried to summon a calm demeanor, the one she’d learned to use whenever her third graders had tried to test her. “Really?” she asked quietly. As much as she didn’t want to pursue the topic, she was glad John wasn’t there. “A few beers?”

Lucy laughed. “It’s a joke. Slang, you know? Like ‘you wanna’ hang?’ It’s a joke because I’m too young to drink. And, anyway, he doesn’t.”

Annie wished they’d never started this conversation. She cut through the parking lot behind the courthouse and took a right onto Church Street. “I take it he didn’t want to . . . hang?”

“He couldn’t. He said he had somewhere to go. He didn’t mention going off island, though.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders in an offhanded way that made it tough to tell whether she was ambivalent or distressed.

The only thing Annie concluded was that she was grateful she no longer was a teenager.

“He’s pretty messed up right now,” Lucy added.

“I suppose that’s understandable.”

“Yeah, too bad, huh? I mean, my parents never got along real well, but I don’t think either one of them would ever kill the other one.”

“You don’t know that’s what happened, Lucy. Back then, the police said that it didn’t.”