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wasn’t a lie, Ava took dinner in her room, which, she decided, was probably the coward’s way out. Too bad. Having Biggs in the house was unsettling, though she couldn’t really name why. It wasn’t as if he was going to arrest her or anything, but she had the feeling that he, along with everyone else, was against her, or at the very least waiting for her to slip up, make a big mistake.
    About what?
    Don’t let your paranoia override your common sense.
    â€œI’m not paranoid,” she whispered under her breath, then clamped her mouth shut. She couldn’t let anyone hear her talking to herself. No, that wouldn’t do. She needed to regroup and pull herself together and figure out who, if anyone, she could trust.
    But as she dunked the crusty bread into Virginia’s spicy clam chowder and stared through the window to the dock, she found she had no appetite. On clear nights, from this window she was able to spy the lights of Anchorville on the far side of the bay, even watch traffic moving through the sleepy little town.
    Chewing thoughtfully, Ava wondered why Khloe had rushed to call the sheriff. Not 911, but Biggs himself. Because he was her uncle? To avoid an unnecessary trip by the EMTs or to stave off a scandal or any embarrassment? That seemed unlikely.
    She stared at the department-issued boat tied to the listing dock, barely visible in the fog.
    â€œOdd,” she muttered as she shoved most of the chowder aside. But then everything was and gossip surrounding Church Island certainly wasn’t unheard of. In fact, scandal seemed as carved into the walls of this bit of land as surely as the coves and inlets that split the rugged stone outcroppings of the island. She felt a chill and found her sweater, a brown cardigan she’d had forever that she’d left on the foot of the bed. She slid her arms through the sleeves and pulled her hair out of the neckline before cinching the belt tighter around her waist.
    Tap. Tap. Tap.
    She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of knuckles rapping against her door. “Ava?” The door opened and Khloe stuck her head into the room. “Hey, how’re you doing?”
    â€œHow do you think?” she demanded, her heart knocking wildly. God, she was a nervous Nellie.
    â€œDidn’t mean to scare you.”
    â€œYou didn’t.” It was a lie. They both knew it. She settled back at the desk where the reddish broth was starting to congeal. “Why did you call Biggs?”
    â€œI told you. I was worried!” Khloe admitted, rubbing her arms as if she, too, experienced a sudden chill. “God, it’s cold in here.”
    â€œAlways,” Ava said, “and you’re hedging.”
    Khloe sat on the edge of the mattress. “What if . . . what if something had happened to you and we didn’t report it? You could’ve drowned. Passed out in the water. Been the victim of hypothermia or God knows what else.”
    â€œI was okay.”
    â€œYou were alive. Barely. And really kind of out of it.” Thin lines of concern etched her forehead. “I probably really should have called nine-one-one, but I was afraid that they would haul you off and . . .” She shrugged her shoulders, then raked frustrated fingers through her short blue-black hair. “To tell you the truth, Ava, sometimes I just don’t know what to do.”
    Neither did she. “I know.”
    â€œSo . . . since Uncle Joe is still here, why don’t you come down and talk to everyone? Show that you’re okay.”
    â€œYou mean fake it?”
    â€œI mean stop acting crazy. Tell Joe and that psychologist that you know you didn’t see Noah.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œShhh! Don’t argue.” Khloe’s big eyes implored her. “Just say you were confused, a little unclear because of the meds you’re on and that you realize you couldn’t have seen Noah.” She didn’t