I thought back to breakfast, Carson laughing at that same memory. Except it wasn’t the same, not at all.

Tim’s hands were fists, his knuckles white. Even sheltered as he was by the overhang of the boathouse roof, his wet clothes whipped in the wind. “The town tried to charge me with second-degree arson. My parents had to hire an attorney. They spent half their savings to get me off the hook, and if they hadn’t there’s no way I could have joined the force. Carson tried to ruin my life, and almost succeeded. And the crazy thing is he acted like nothing happened, like we were still best buds. My parents had the school put me in a different class. I worked my ass off avoiding him all through high school, couldn’t wait until graduation. The day I heard he was moving to New York was one of the happiest of my life, because I thought I’d never have to see that shithead ever again.”

I told myself the nausea I felt was due to the smell, all those fish left to rot. Carson’s family had told me stories about his childhood. Everyone described him as a good kid who loved to help others, a healer to the core. “That’s ridiculous. You and Carson were friends.”

“I thought we were friends. I wanted us to be. I didn’t have a lot of them back then. He was a conniving jerk, and I was a tool. Carson’s a user, Shana. You’re lucky he hasn’t done the same to you.”

He’s not a good person. Please believe me. It’s the truth. “But he wanted to invite you to our wedding,” I said, still refusing to accept it, still fighting. “It was his idea.”

“Of course it was. He’s still playing mind games, even now. If there’s a way to humiliate me, he’ll find it.” The toe of Tim’s boot made contact with a stone and he sent it flying toward the river. It disappeared into the mist. “He called me when he moved back to town, you know that? ‘Heard you’re a cop,’ he said. He told me he was marrying a detective from the city, made sure to stress how inconsequential my life is compared to his. ‘My girl left the NYPD for me,’ he said, ‘but hey, don’t worry, Timmy, maybe you’ll find a lonely cashier and settle down in a nice backcountry trailer park.’”

My legs felt weak. Tim gave me a pitying look. “All of this comes as a complete shock, doesn’t it? Classic Carson.”

I pictured Carson the way he’d looked that morning. Thought back to our early days together, when he was my appointed therapist. We’d been dating less than a year, but I knew him, didn’t I? I couldn’t imagine him concealing this from me.

Can’t you? I asked myself. What about the secret you’ve been keeping from him?

“You want proof?” Tim said. “Talk to the other kids in our class. Interview my parents, for all I care—and when you get home, be sure to ask Carson about Moonshine Phil.”