Will catches my eye. I’ve said as much to him about Troy’s infidelity, but the pattern is a lot clearer to me now that I know Emily’s family history. “What about Cameron?” I ask, shifting focus. “Has the tension in her parents’ marriage changed her in your opinion?”

“Maybe,” Lydia says thoughtfully. “But honestly, she’s been changing for a while. Or that’s how it seems to me.”

“In what way?”

“More sensitive, I guess, and easily upset. Harder to get close to.”

“Guarded?” I throw out.

“Maybe that’s it.” Her gaze darkens. “When she first came, I thought it was going to be a good thing for all of them. Emily had wanted a child for a long time. And she was always so overwhelmed by her career. Hollywood.” Lydia says it as if she’s named a virus.

“Then what?”

“I don’t know exactly. At some point, Cameron seemed to shut down and go inward. Honestly, I’ve been worried about her for years now. Not that there was a lot of room to say that to Emily.”

I sit forward, suddenly far more interested in Lydia. Will seems to agree.

“Worried how?” he presses. “About what exactly?”

“I thought she might hurt herself or something. Don’t girls her age do that sometimes, cut themselves or act out self-destructively?”

“Did you ever offer her any help?” I ask.

“I tried. In July she seemed like she was barely there. When I asked, she said she was fine, but later we learned she’d just found out about the baby. Troy’s assistant, no less. What a nightmare.” Her look is barbed. “You know about that, I assume.”

“We do,” Will says. “How did Cameron find out?”

Lydia’s mouth tightens irately for a moment. “His girlfriend called the house and she answered the phone. Can you imagine?”

I can’t. “Troy’s girlfriend told Cameron she was pregnant? That’s cruel.”

“Cruel but effective.” Lydia shakes her head. “Actually it’s inexcusable. Cameron was probably reeling, but we had this completely stiff birthday lunch. Crab salad and flourless chocolate cake. Emily didn’t let anything slip, not a single sign that anything was wrong. But that’s Emily, right?” She sighs meaningfully. “Drew and I haven’t spoken to Troy since.”

At the sound of Drew’s name, I’m jolted back to reality. With all this talk of Cameron, I’ve nearly forgotten why we came. Maybe Will has, too, or maybe he’s just been biding his time.

“Cameron disappeared on the twenty-first,” he says. “What was going on for you and Drew that night?”

“We’d just started harvesting the pinot,” Lydia explains. “We were out in the vineyards until two or three, I think.”

It’s obvious she means a.m. “Together?”

“That’s right. It’s all hands on deck from August through October. No one sleeps.”

“And you started working when that night?” I ask.