“How does he like his new digs?” Ted asked.

Noah broke in before Eve could answer. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don’t charge down that path. You know I wasn’t referring to Bax when I asked if you’d heard the news.”

Ted eyed the crowd at the register. He wasn’t a man with a lot of patience. He preferred to sit and talk until he saw an opening and wouldn’t have to wait, but today he should’ve gotten in line. That might have provided him with a buffer. Maybe they would have covered Sophia’s situation and gotten embroiled in some other gossip before he returned with his usual—a cup of Black Gold’s finest fresh-roasted coffee. “If you’re talking about Skip DeBussi, of course I heard.”

“That his body washed up on the shore of Brazil?” Noah asked.

“It’s in all the papers, isn’t it?” Ted said. “AOL even had something about it online.”

“And?” Noah prompted. “Don’t you have any reaction?”

“I’m sorry for his parents and his daughter, if that’s what you’re after.”

Riley came back from the counter with a giant muffin, a fruit-and-yogurt parfait and an apple. Apparently, he planned to eat it all himself; his son was in school so he wouldn’t be sharing it as he did during the summer. “You’re sorry for everyone but his wife?” he asked, quickly picking up on the conversation.

Ted tried not to picture Sophia’s face. He’d never seen a more beautiful woman. She turned heads, including his, wherever she went. He hated that she still had the power to affect him and often reminded himself that her beauty was only skin-deep. “I’m sure she’ll manage. She always seems to land on her feet.”

Callie frowned. “You’re so hard on her. I won’t argue that Sophia was a...a difficult personality in high school, but—”

“A difficult personality?” he echoed. “She was the meanest girl Eureka High has ever seen. She stole other girls’ boyfriends, toyed with the guys she collected, manipulated anyone who’d let her and used her power and popularity to lord it over the less fortunate. You can feel bad for her all you want, but let’s not forget the facts.” He left out that she also had a slew of good qualities. That she’d been sexy and funny and determined and just mysterious enough to keep him guessing. At one time she was all he’d ever wanted. He expected someone to call him on that, but no one did.

“People grow up,” Riley said. “She seemed nice when she was coming to coffee.”

Because they hadn’t given her the chance to be anything else. Ted was glad she’d changed her mind about trying to be part of their group. He didn’t think she should have the right to hang out with them after behaving so badly, and he’d made sure she knew it. “Don’t let those big blue eyes fool you.”

Callie shot him a quelling look. “Ted, she just lost her husband. Can’t you have some sympathy?”

No. He couldn’t. He needed to keep up his defenses, because he knew where any softening would lead. He’d tried to rescue her once before. It’d been years since then, but he’d learned his lesson. “Like I said, I feel bad for her daughter and Skip’s parents. Losing a son or father would be hard, but finding out he cheated almost everyone in town and then died trying to fake his own death so he could start a new life somewhere else...” He’d never liked Skip, but he hadn’t expected him to do anything quite that bad.

“Skip died trying to fake his own death?” Levi sat down with some coffee and a yogurt he slid in front of Callie. “Last I knew, they were assuming it might’ve been an accident—that he fell off the boat and drowned.”

“It was no accident,” Ted responded. “No one ‘falls’ off a yacht with a waterproof bag containing a disposable, non-traceable cell phone, a change of clothes and a hundred thousand dollars in cash strapped to his back. What you saw must’ve been before news of the FBI probe broke. I doubt anyone would’ve been leaning toward ‘accident’ if they’d possessed that little detail. Maybe suicide,” he added.

Brandon poured a packet of sugar into his coffee. “So he meant to go overboard, was prepared for it. Why didn’t he survive?”

Ted shrugged. “No one knows. They’re speculating he had some sort of flotation device that he lost for whatever reason. Maybe he encountered a shark or some rocks or fell asleep and slipped out of it. Or he might have given it up, thinking he could move faster without it. Maybe he underestimated the distance to shore or his ability to fight the currents.”

Noah finished his cappuccino. “I could see him doing that. He’s always been over-confident.”

“What he’s done, to everyone, is terrible.” Olivia wiped the condensation from her orange juice. “Especially little Alexa. How will Sophia ever explain that he died trying to skate out on them?”

Ted shifted to one side so he could cross his ankles without getting in anyone’s way. “I’m just glad I didn’t invest, and I hope none of you guys did, either.”

He’d said it flippantly. He hadn’t really believed any of his friends would be victims, but when Kyle and Noah exchanged a glance, Ted sat up straight. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“He talked a good talk,” Noah said, his face turning red. “I mean, look at his house. Look at the cars he drives and all the trips he takes—or used to take. I thought he knew what the hell he was doing.”

“He did!” Ted said with a laugh. “He got you to invest, didn’t he?”

Kyle’s expression was just as chagrined as Noah’s but he came out fighting. “Don’t be so damn smug, Ted. The only reason you kept your distance was because you didn’t want to give Skip the pleasure of thinking he had anything you appreciated or admired.”

That was true. Like almost everyone else, he’d been tempted by the promise of easy money, especially when so many people he respected seemed to be jumping at the opportunity. It was Skip’s connection to Sophia that had stopped him.

For once his history with her was actually in his favor. “Doesn’t matter what saved me, I didn’t invest.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “So how much did you two lose?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Noah said. Kyle didn’t answer.

“You didn’t give him a lot, did you?”

Obviously defensive of the man she loved, Adelaide put an arm around her husband. “You didn’t do anything wrong, honey. He did. I bet lots of people in Whiskey Creek lost more than you.”

“I hope not,” Noah said, aghast. “What hurts the most is that I turned him down the first couple of times he called. Addie and I have had a rough year, as you guys know. But once our personal problems cleared up, the oily bastard offered me ‘the opportunity’ again. And he made it sound so...safe and lucrative.” He pushed the table, which was crowding him, a few inches away. “I had every reason to believe him. He’s been the richest man in town for years. None of us drive a Ferrari or have our asses chauffeured to work.”

“You want a chauffeur to drive you ten feet from your door to your bike shop?” Levi teased.

“No, but I’ll take one of the Ferraris.”

“Too bad he’s not alive so I could punch him out,” Kyle grumbled.

“Come on, how much did you guys lose?” Ted eyed Noah, since he’d had him in his sights first.

Noah flipped him off, but then relented. “What the hell. I admit I was a stupid sucker. Fifty thousand. I lost fifty grand.”

The way he said it showed how humiliated he was.

Brandon whistled; Callie dropped her spoon. “That’s a lot!” she exclaimed. “Maybe Levi and I should be glad for my medical bills. We didn’t have enough money for him to bother with us.”

Ted turned to Kyle. “And you? How much did you lose?”

“Kiss my ass,” Kyle replied, his nose in his cup.

“Noah just gave us a figure,” Brandon said.

Kyle scowled at him. “So? I’m not telling.”

Ted couldn’t help smiling at his petulant response. That meant he’d lost even more than Noah. “I’m sure there’ll be a list of victims in the paper at some point.”