“How about Amy or Andy? Boomer was always just there. He never did anything mean to me. In fact, he tried many times to get Jeff to leave me alone. I feel like I’m right on the edge of remembering, then it slips away. So, what you’re saying is you and the others didn’t go to the pond that day.”

Pete’s heart slammed against his rib cage. He laid down his chopsticks and stared across the table at Cady. “Are you asking me if I lied? I was at the park. Other people saw us.”

Cady stirred the rice into the vegetables, which were supposed to be eaten when they were crisp and crunchy. They were soggy now. “I didn’t ask you if you lied. I asked you if you and the others went to the pond that day. You could have gone to the park before or after. I would never have gone to the pond that day knowing you and the others wouldn’t have been there. I know that about myself, Pete. Did you or didn’t you go to the pond that day? It’s a simple question, Pete. A yes or a no answer will do just fine.”

The ten-year-old boy inside Pete pushed the lawyer aside and responded to the question. “No.” If he’d said yes, there would go his dreams of possibly marrying Cady at some point. If he’d said yes, there would be no fortune to manage and possibly inherit. If he’d said yes, he would have to kiss his standing in the community goodbye.

“Why doesn’t your response have the ring of truth to it, Pete? Plus, your ears are turning red. Your ears always used to get red when Amy would come up with some daredevil adventure the rest of us were afraid of. They would stay red, too, until we either did what she wanted or we talked her out of it. I think you were all there that day because I was supposed to ride the zip line. Sooner or later I’m going to remember, Pete. If there’s one thing in this life that I hate, it’s a liar. You were supposed to be my friends. I know a lot of years have gone by, but that shouldn’t make a bit of difference. Real, true friends are supposed to be friends forever.”

“Cady…listen to me…”

Cady stood up and reached for her purse. “I’ll get home on my own. Thanks for dinner.”

“Cady, wait,” Pete said, slapping bills down on the table. “Damn it, wait.”

Cady kept on walking till she reached the lobby, where she asked the hostess to call her a cab.

“Damn it, Cady, why are you so sure I lied? I suppose this means you’re going to tell your grandmother to ax me as her attorney.”

There it was, that money thing again. Cady looked up at his six-foot handsomeness and shook her head. “Years ago you would have trusted me. For little kids we were soul mates. I guess you forgot about that and how wonderful it was that we could commiserate together. I know you lied because your ears turned red. All of you lied that day. I know it in my head, in my heart, and in my gut. No, I’m not going to tell my grandmother to ax you. One thing has nothing to do with the other. I might not have much in this world that’s my own, but I do have my good name and my integrity. Thanks again for dinner.”