Now, she sat across the table from him, brooding. She’d called Mark as soon as they’d pulled into the café’s parking lot and it hadn’t gone well. Lots of apologizing on her part for not responding to his texts or returning his calls. Lots of complaining from his end. Dylan could hear Mark through the phone before he politely exited the car to give her some privacy.

“Fun fact,” Dylan said, trying for levity. Her mood was heavier than the air outside. “John Lasseter visited this restaurant, and rumor has it, after meeting the owner, he created Sally Carrera, that character in the movie Cars. Do you think Sally is modeled after the owner?”

“Who?” Joy asked, looking up from her tea. It had to be cold by now. She’d barely touched it since the waitress brought it over, and that was forty minutes ago.

“Sally Carrera. You know, the blue Porsche. Didn’t you watch Cars as a kid? Love that movie. I swear I’ve seen it fifty times.”

Joy shrugged. She twirled a spoon around the teacup.

He pushed aside his empty coffee mug, planted his elbows on the table. “Let me see the bucket list.” Unless she did so while he wasn’t looking, she hadn’t checked off sleep under the stars, which was uncharacteristic of her. She made a point to drag that dull stick of lead through the bullets as soon as she did them.

Joy pulled out the list. She didn’t give it to him but pushed aside her plate. She’d eaten one bite of pancakes and ignored the eggs. Dylan had eaten her bacon when she offered. She unfolded the sheet and studied the list as if the bullets had changed since yesterday at the waterfall. Sleep under the stars was still unchecked. She didn’t move to cross it out.

Dylan pursed his lips. “What’s going on with you and Mark?” He hated seeing her so down on herself. It was depressing and made him want to punch her fiancé. He’d had a great time with Joy yesterday and that call had knocked the fun chair out from under her.

“You know, I’ve been wondering.” She pointed to fall in love. It had already been struck out. “Judy had been dating this guy for two years when she wrote this. She’d told me that she was going to marry Todd. Why would she add this?”

Dylan shrugged. “Maybe things weren’t so hot between them.”

“They weren’t on her last night. Todd messed up. He cheated on her. But what if he hadn’t? My sister would still be alive.”

Dylan leaned forward. “Wait a sec. Did he kill her?”

“No . . . he didn’t.”