He held the door for them. Evie glared at him again. She and Maya spilled out onto the sidewalk, and they were already on their way when he cleared his throat to get their attention. Maya looked over her shoulder.

“You want to lock the door?”

“Oh, right!” She lurched back, and after an unsuccessful attempt to fit her key into the lock, Sawyer took it from her and finished the job.

“Thanks, Chief! You saved the day!” She blew him a kiss. “We can steal the real thing if you like,” she stage-whispered to Evie as they set off down the sidewalk. “I’m just trying to be a good citizen, but we stole these amaryllises from my dad, so we’re basically criminals either way.”

He followed them. After about a quarter block, Maya turned and called over her shoulder, “You’re dismissed, Chief!”

“Ignore me.” He would try to make himself unobtrusive, but they were tipsy enough that he couldn’t just let them hang out on the pier without keeping an eye on them. He would even refrain from writing them tickets if they stole some authentic moonflowers.

“You’re not invited!” Maya yelled.

“And you’re not sober!” he yelled back.

“Is that a crime?”

“Actually, I could arrest you right now for public drunkenness, but I personally think tolerating me lurking in the background so you don’t fall in the bay and drown is your better bet. But it’s up to you.”

Maya threw up a hand in a gesture he chose to interpret as one of surrender and kept walking—but quietly, which he chose to interpret as victory.

He’d been watching Evie the whole time. As Maya had argued with him over her shoulder, Evie had stared straight ahead. Her posture was not easy. Her back was ramrod straight, and she marched with a kind of robotic gait.

He took some twisted comfort in the fact that though she was epically pissed at him, that was not an “It was never serious” posture.