CHAPTER FOUR

IZZY

Mia had stopped seeming small to Izzy months ago, despite her petite frame. But standing in the middle of the lighthouse, her eyes on the floor, she was nothing if not delicate, fragile, vulnerable.

That starved, desperate quality that had settled into her body over the past few weeks was more pronounced than Izzy had seen before, even with the heavy layers of winter gear.

Izzy sighed. She didn’t want to kick someone when they were down, but she needed to clear the air. Mia was already too close, her judgment too compromised, just from having to investigate people she grew up with. Add trauma to that, and it became a knife’s edge, one wrong move toppling them in the wrong direction.

“All right,” Izzy said. “You should have told me all this days ago when we got the case. We can treat it as spilled milk and water under the bridge and all that jazz. But you can’t keep anything from me like that again.”

Mia had stilled and was watching her closely. The disorientation of the first few minutes of the lighthouse had faded, and she was once again composed and unreadable, cool, assessing.

A flipped switch and all the walls had come up.

“I should have,” Mia agreed finally, more easily than Izzy had expected. “I don’t talk about this ever.” She waved to encompass the room. “As you can imagine.”

“I get it.” Izzy nodded, because she did. She got it. But she also needed to trust Mia here, and that choice to keep Izzy in the dark hadn’t helped. Mia should have told her back in Rockport, or on the ferry, even. “Going forward, though, if I ask you a question, you need to actually answer it. No evasive maneuvering or anything.”

There was a second when Izzy thought Mia was going to balk. Or at least shimmy her way out of a direct promise. But then her chin dipped a half inch.

“I won’t lie to you, Izzy,” Mia finally said.

“That doesn’t mean you’ll tell the truth.” Izzy was pressing her luck when she’d technically already scored the victory. But she was starting to get it now, starting to understand the way Mia was when it came to all this.

Mia’s smile was rueful as she looked down so that her hair slid in front of her face. Always hiding something, no matter how small it might be. “I’ll tell you the truth. You have my word.”

Izzy knew she couldn’t ask for anything else. But as Mia’s eyes tracked over the maps, the fireplace, the couch, as they lingered on the stairs, before continuing to the stack of books on the coffee table, the jewelry box on the mantel, Izzy knew she hadn’t really won.

Maybe Mia would tell her truths, but that didn’t mean she would tell Izzy what she was thinking.