“Yes, you,” Ellis retorted. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Just taking in the scenery,” Ty said innocently. “How about yourself?”

“My friends and I were relaxing on the beach,” Ellis said. “Until we became aware that we were being spied on by some pervert.”

“What makes you think I’m a pervert?”

“Yesterday I caught you pissing off that same deck. Today you’re up there staring at us. What’s your name, anyway?”

He was taken off guard by her question, and before he knew it, he was actually telling her. “My name is Ty Bazemore. Why do you ask?”

She nodded, seeming to memorize it. “Ty Bazemore. Is that it? Not Tyson, or Tyler?”

“Just Ty,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“None of your business,” she said. “What are you doing up there on that porch?”

“I happen to live here,” he said indignantly.

“Does Mr. Culpepper know you’re staying up there?”

He managed to suppress a smile. “Culpepper knows all about me.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?” she asked.

“Come to think of it,” he said, looking down at his watch, “I do.” He started to go back inside, but then he thought of something.

She was halfway down the beach stairs.

“Hey,” he called. “Why do you want to know my name?”

“So I can Google you,” she called back, not bothering to turn around. “And I intend to run the tag on that Bronco too, Ty Bazemore.”

“The perv’s name is Ty,” Ellis reported when she got back to the girls. “He claims he rents the garage apartment from Mr. Culpepper.”

“What makes you think he’s a perv?” Julia asked, thumbing through Vogue.

“He was peeing off that deck!” Ellis said. “Right there in front of God and everybody.”

“That doesn’t make him a pervert,” Julia said, dog-earing one of the pages. “It just makes him a guy. My brothers used to pee off the second-floor porch at the house at Isle of Hope when they were kids. It was like a contest. Peeing for distance, they called it.”

“My brother did the same kind of stuff. And sometimes, when Stephen’s in the backyard mowing the grass, he’ll pee behind the garage,” Dorie volunteered. “He doesn’t think I know. I think it’s kinda funny. Didn’t your brother ever do anything like that?”

“Baylor wouldn’t have dared. My mother would have had a cat-fit,” Ellis said. “I don’t care what you guys say, I’m keeping an eye on Ty Bazemore.”

“Mmmm,” Julia purred suggestively. “I’ll help.”

“Me too,” Dorie said. “He’s adorable. He’d make the perfect summer fling for you, Ellis.”

“As if,” Ellis said.

*   *   *

At lunchtime, the girls trooped back up the dunes to the house.

“I’m starved,” Julia announced. She was leafing through a thick booklet advertising local shops and restaurants. “Where shall we go for lunch? Seafood, right? The fish we get in England is crap. It’s the one big thing I miss about living in Savannah. Do you guys remember my mom’s fried grouper sandwiches?”

“I remember her she-crab bisque,” Ellis said. Unlike her own mother, who was strictly a meat and potatoes, canned peas, and cherry Jell-O kind of cook, Catherine Capelli had been a fabulous cook. “And I’d give anything for another plate of her spaghetti with the Italian sausage that she’d make in the wintertime.”

“And those little yeast rolls she’d make, dripping with garlic butter,” Dorie put in. “And all the different kinds of cookies she’d bake every year at Christmas. She’d fix a huge plate for each of us to take home to our families. It’s a miracle we all didn’t end up fat little piggies after eating your mama’s cooking all those years, Julia.”

“She could cook, there was no denying that,” Julia said lightly. “But you still haven’t told me where you want to go have lunch.” She rifled the pages of the booklet. “Awful Arthur’s? Barefoot Bernie’s? Dirty Dick’s?”

Ellis picked up a manila folder she’d left on top of the microwave. “Let’s see. I’ve got coupons for Mako Mike’s and Freaky Freddie’s. Buy one entrée, get a second free.”

“You guys go,” Dorie said. “Maybe I’ll just fix myself a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich.”

“Peanut butter and jelly? At the beach? Are you nuts?” Julia said.

“I prefer to think of it as being thrifty,” Dorie replied. “I mean, c’mon, Ellis, aren’t you the tiniest bit worried about your situation? I know you’ll get another great job, but I just think I’d be crazy worried if I were you.”

“I’ve got some irons in the fire,” Ellis said blithely. “But I’ll be all right. As long as I’m sensible about my spending, which I usually am anyway.” She opened the refrigerator door, secretly relieved at the twenty dollar bill she’d save by eating lunch at home. “Look, I stopped at the seafood place up the street when I got in yesterday and picked up some shrimp. They claimed it was right off the boat. And I brought a can of Old Bay seasoning. We can steam some shrimp in beer.”

“What else have you got in there?” Dorie asked, leaning in to look. She held up a head of romaine lettuce, a cucumber, and a tomato. “Great. I’ll throw a salad together while the shrimp are cooking.”

“Oh, all right,” Julia relented. “We’ll stay in for lunch. But tonight, we’re going out for dinner so I can get my fried grouper fix. And it’s my treat, so don’t even try to argue.”

They took turns showering, and when lunch was ready, they sat companionably around the enamel-topped kitchen table. They discussed plans for the afternoon, while Ellis checked her e-mail.

“Hey,” she announced. “Old man Culpepper finally answered my e-mail. A pest-control guy is coming over to spray the house at two. But he says we’ve got to stay out of the house for a couple of hours afterwards.”

“Suits me,” Julia said. “I’ve got a new book, and the beach is calling me back.”

“Guess I’ve had enough sun for one day,” Dorie said, holding out her sunburnt arm.

“Me too,” Ellis agreed. “I saw a movie theater up the street. Why don’t we catch a matinee?”

“A chick flick!” Dorie’s green eyes lit up. “I’ll bring my biggest pocketbook and we’ll sneak in our own Diet Cokes like we did in junior high. And we can stop and buy a giant box of candy at the Dollar Store.”

“Well…” Ellis said. “You know they always have those big signs that say ‘outside food and drink prohibited’.…”

Julia set her beer bottle down on the countertop. “Who cares? They just put those signs up so you’ll have to buy their five-dollar Cokes and seven-dollar tubs of popcorn. Nobody pays any attention to those signs.”

“I do,” Ellis said stubbornly. “What if we got caught? How embarrassing would that be?”

“Who’s going to catch you?” Julia wanted to know. “It’s not like they have ushers in movie theaters anymore. And even if they did, what do you think is going to happen if they catch you sneaking in your own stuff? Huh? You think they’re gonna revoke your driver’s license? Seize your jujubes as contraband?”

“Never mind her, Ellis,” Dorie said. “I’ll carry the Cokes and Milk Duds in my purse.” She paused then, remembering that her redrawn budget had no room for movies—let alone seven-dollar boxes of popcorn.

Ellis noticed Dorie’s sudden look of concern. She opened the manila folder again. “I went online and downloaded some Movie Lover’s passes. If we get there before 1:30, our tickets are only two bucks. And there’s one for each of us.”

Julia rolled her eyes. “What is with you two with the coupons and early-bird specials? We’re on vacation. We’ve all worked hard and we deserve to be good to ourselves. If you’re that hard up for money, just say so.” She grabbed her pocketbook.

Ellis saw Dorie bite her lip and look away. “Thanks anyway. We’ll pay our own way,” she said, her voice deliberately even. “And if you don’t want to be seen with a couple of coupon-clippers, we’ll understand.”

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean … well, you know.” Julia hastily craned her neck to look out the kitchen window. “It’s kind of clouding up out there. So if you’ve got a spare coupon, I guess I could go. Anyway, I figure I laid down a pretty good base coat this morning.”