She noted that David was deep in conversation with Cooper. He’d told her that David’s drone business was booming in London. Who knew? she wondered. Cooper was studying international business. Maybe a job there was in Cooper’s future.

Beside her, Gordon and Pandora were head-bent in some discussion that had Gordon gesturing with his hands. Linnea smiled, thinking how he got so caught up in his work. He was always eager to share with someone his latest research. He’d found an eager listener in Pandora. Perhaps too eager, she thought, observing how Pandora hung on his every word. Linnea wondered, too, why she didn’t feel all that concerned.

Speaking of flirting, sitting in the rocking chairs in the corner she spied Palmer and Julia leaning close as though to catch every word. If she hadn’t known who they were, she’d have guessed her parents were a couple just hooking up. It made her happy to see them happy.

She looked at Julia, dressed in white jeans and a chic navy-and-white-striped shirt, and didn’t think she’d ever seen her mother more beautiful, or more comfortable in her own skin. Julia’s work at the James house was not only lucrative for her business but had firmly placed her new company on the local stage. Linnea recalled her conversation with Julia last summer. Julia had had little confidence in herself, yet claimed she didn’t want to be known only as someone’s daughter, wife, or mother. Well, Mama, Linnea thought with pride. You did it. You are Julia Rutledge of Rutledge House Interiors. And perhaps, her inner satisfaction was the glow that her father found so attractive.

Her attention was diverted by Emmi as she rang an old school bell.

“Okay y’all! Let’s have dessert!”

PANDORA, LINNEA, CARA, and Anna were packing up the china and wrapping up the last of the food and dividing it up to go to different homes. John and Gordon were carrying out pots of coffee and tea when Emmi hurried from her house, her face pale with worry.

“Has anyone seen Flo?”

Immediately, all conversation stopped, chairs were pushed back from the table, and everyone started running around the enclave of houses calling out Flo’s name.

“You’re not to blame,” Cara told a frantic Emmi, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. “No one is. She’s wandered off before and we’ve always found her. We’ll find her now.”

“She’s not at my place,” Linnea called out, returning at a sprint from the beach house.

John put his hands in his back pockets, his face worried. “She’s nowhere in the house.”

“When was the last time anyone saw her?” David asked.

“I checked on her right before we sat down for dinner. She was sound asleep,” Emmi said.

“That was over hours ago,” Cara said. “She could be anywhere.”

“Should we call the police?” asked Emmi, worry making her voice wobble.

“We’ve gone through this before,” Cara said, interjecting a note of calm. “She walks, so I don’t believe we have to worry about her going in the ocean.”