Julia did a cursory sign of the cross. “On my daddy’s grave. I’m telling you the truth. Madison must have, I don’t know, like, twenty thousand dollars in cash. Shoved to the back of the shelf in her armoire. But that’s not the scariest thing.” She plunged her hand into her beach bag and withdrew a menacing-looking black handgun.

“This,” she said triumphantly, “is what she had under her mattress. Now tell me again about poor, unfortunate, innocent Madison-slash-Maryn.”

Ellis and Dorie stared goggle-eyed at the gun, until Julia shoved it back into the bag.

“Is it real?” Dorie asked.

“Is it loaded?” Ellis demanded.

“Not anymore,” Julia said.

“You actually stole her gun?” Dorie groaned and shook her head.

“I did it for you guys,” Julia said. “Who knows what she planned to do with that gun?” She held out one hand. “Diet Coke, please. All this sleuthing has left me absolutely parched.”

“Oh my God,” Dorie said, still eyeing Julia’s bag. “Madison must be in awful trouble. Y’all, we have got to try to help her.”

When Julia had finished her Diet Coke, and they’d made her recount the search and seizure of the contents of Madison’s room not once, but twice, the three women agreed that it was time to do something.

“She told me this morning, she’s leaving tomorrow,” Dorie pointed out. “So it’d be a waste of time to kick her out. Anyway, I don’t want to kick her out. I want to figure out how to help her.”

“Dorie,” Ellis said, sounding calmer than she felt. “You don’t help a woman who has a closet full of cash and a loaded weapon. You just keep out of her way.”

“Not happening,” Julia said, her voice low, as she nodded in the direction of the stairway from the dunes.

Madison, or Maryn, was steaming down the stairs, blood in her eyes.

She kicked her shoes off at the base of the steps and kept coming, until she was standing at the very edge of their little beach camp, a damp tank top clutched in her right hand.

“Hi, Madison,” Dorie attempted.

“You bitches!” Madison spat the words. “I knew moving in here was a mistake. Knew you’d never trust me and that I could never trust any of you.”

Madison stood, hands clenched on her hips, staring down at Julia. “You’ve got some goddamn nerve, breaking into my room,” she said. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Julia’s complexion paled a little under her tan. She propped herself up on her elbows. “What are you talking about? Me? Why would I be interested in your room?”

“I don’t know why,” Madison snapped. “Maybe because you’re a pathetic loser, with no life of your own, so you have to go snooping around in mine?”

“I resent that,” Julia said.

“Fuck you,” Madison said. She glanced over at Dorie and gave her an even more withering look. “And you. With all that phony bullshit compassion, telling me you want me to stay. All the while you’re really just stalling me so I won’t catch that one in the act of burglarizing my room.”

“It wasn’t phony!” Dorie blurted out. “I mean, yes, I was stalling you, because I didn’t want you to catch Julia. But I meant what I said. And I mean it even more now. Julia told us about the money.”

“So now what? You’ve concluded that I’m a bank robber? An embezzler? Or maybe just a madam for a high-class call girl outfit? I’m surprised there’s not a patrol car parked up at the house. You did call the cops, right?”

“It was a lot of cash,” Julia pointed out.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you people,” Madison said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Let me ask you something,” Julia piped up. “How did you figure out I’d been in your room? I mean, I was so careful. Did you set up some kind of booby trap or something, just in case somebody did go snooping around?”

“Some cat burglar,” Madison sneered. She held up the garment in her hand, which turned out to be a still-damp, white nylon running shirt, and flung it in Julia’s face. “You left this.”

34

The three women watched as Madison/Maryn gave her best effort towards stomping off in the damp khaki-colored sand. When she’d abandoned the beach, they returned their attention to Julia, who’d slumped back onto her beach towel, her hands thrown across her eyes, blocking the sun and their inquisitive stares.

“Your top?” Ellis said finally, flicking the sweaty garment with a dismissive fingertip. “Really, Julia? You didn’t notice you’d left your top behind?”

“I’m sorry,” Julia cried, her voice so shrill that a nearby seagull squawked in answer, and a small child walking by scampered quickly away, towards the water and an incoming wave. “Don’t look at me like that. Jesus! You saw how I was dressed. I’d just come back from my run. And that attic—the temperature must have been about two hundred degrees. I couldn’t get the door latch to open—sweat was pouring off of me, my hands were slippery, so I took off my top—for God’s sake—I was wearing a sports bra! And I used it to get the latch open. And then I climbed in the window, and I was rummaging around in her room. She didn’t even have the air conditioner on up there. Why am I explaining all of this to you? She’s the one with the stash of cash and the gun under her mattress.”

“This was just a really, really bad idea,” Ellis said, her voice low. “Unforgivable. I should never have gone along with this. I knew it wasn’t right, but I did it anyway. I feel awful.”

“Me too,” Dorie said. “And I’m just as bad as you guys. I could have stopped Julia, if I’d really tried.”

But Julia was unrepenetant. “Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have ransacked her room. I’m sorry. Okay? It was all my idea, and you guys are off the hook. But can we just get back to the matter at hand—which, after all, is what do we do about Madison and her gun and her giant stack o’ cash?”

Dorie looked uneasily at Ellis. “I think you should go talk to her.”

“Me?” Ellis was indignant. “Why me? I’m not the one who invited her to live here. And I’m not the one who is chasing her off because I went prying into her private business.”

“Who else?” Dorie asked. “She hates Julia. And she doesn’t trust me anymore, that’s for sure. You’re the calm one. The smart one. You can talk to her. You can talk to anybody. Weren’t you the one who persuaded Phyllis all those years ago that the moaning coming from our den was me, writhing with cramps, instead of Kieran Boylan, crying like a little girly man because he cut his knee crawling out the back window?”

“Just ask her where the money came from,” Julia advised. “But don’t say anything about the gun, okay? I mean, we don’t want to piss her off, just in case she’s got another one hidden in her car or something.”

“No!” Ellis said, flinging the sweaty top at Julia. “I am putting my foot down.” Despite her protests, Ellis knew it was no use arguing or stalling. They were all in their thirties now, but she, Ellis Sullivan, was still designated driver for life.

*   *   *

She took a deep breath and knocked lightly on Madison’s door.

“Go away,” came the muffled response.

“Madison,” Ellis called. “Please let me in. I want to talk to you. I want to apologize … for all of us.”

“Fine. Whatever,” Madison called. “I’m leaving in the morning, so just let it be. Let me be.”

“I can’t,” Ellis said plaintively. “You know Julia. She’s not going to let up on any of us until I talk to you. Face-to-face.”

The door opened abruptly. “Make it fast,” Madison said, gesturing her inside. “But this is a complete waste of time.”

Ellis crossed the threshold and looked around the room. The thin, white, cotton curtains ruffled listlessly in the faint breeze.

“May I sit down?” Ellis asked.

“It’s your house,” Madison said bitterly. “I’m just a boarder here. With no property rights.”

“About that,” Ellis said, clearing her throat and perching on the edge of the narrow bed. “We owe you an apology. All of us. Except maybe Dorie. She was totally against what Julia did, but we pressured her to act as lookout, and in the end, she caved.”