“No!” she said. “Adam is, like, my best friend. He was my only friend in that office. All those backstabbing bitches I worked with treated me like a pariah. You know, they didn’t even have a going-away lunch for me when I quit? Adam was different. I trusted him. My last day of work, he took me out to lunch, and we got hammered on tequila shooters. I never even went back to the office after lunch. I mean, what was the point?”

“Did you tell him where you’re staying?” Ellis inquired.

“He knows I’m in Nags Head. I didn’t give him the exact address, because to tell you the truth, I don’t even know it.”

“That might be just as well,” Ellis said. “I mean, I’m not saying anything against him, but maybe, just to be cautious … I mean, for one thing, there’s that ten-thousand-dollar reward. Adam knows what kind of car you drive, right?”

“Of course,” Madison said, getting impatient. “He also kinda knows where I’ve been staying. I told him it’s on South Virginia Dare. I told him the name of the house. Ebbtide. But I’m telling you, I know him. Adam wouldn’t hurt a fly.” She held up her cell phone. “I’ll call him right now, get this straightened out.”

Madison scrolled through her phone’s recent call log, punched in a number and waited.

“Adam? It’s me. Look, we need to talk. Call me right back, okay? This is really important.”

She closed the phone and looked at Ellis. “I know this guy, okay? He’s not like Don. He wants to help me.”

Ellis wasn’t totally convinced. But she didn’t want to make Madison any more anxious than she already was. “Okay,” she said finally. “We’ll just wait and see what happens, right?”

36

“What did you find out?” Julia demanded as soon as Ellis and Madison got back to Ebbtide. “Is there an APB out for Maryn?”

“Madison,” Dorie gently corrected her. “Remember, she likes Madison better.”

“Whatever,” Julia said, slapping the dining room tabletop with the palm of her hand. “Come on. Give.”

Ellis glanced at Madison, and she nodded.

“So…” Ellis began. “We may have a problem.”

She filled Dorie and Julia in on what they’d discovered from the newspaper stories.

“They’re offering a ten-thousand-dollar reward for me!” Madison blurted out. “Like I’m the criminal! Like I had anything to do with stealing that money.”

Ellis took a deep breath. “And there’s some question about her friend Adam. He told Maryn he’s on vacation, but the paper said he quit his job.”

Madison shook her head and frowned. “Adam can’t afford to quit. He just bought a brand-new Camaro, back in the spring. And I know for a fact his credit cards are always maxed out. Bill collectors were always calling the office looking for him.”

Dorie looked horrified. “You think he’d turn you in for that ten-thousand-dollar reward?”

“No!” Madison exclaimed. “He’s my friend. He wouldn’t do that to me. There’s gotta be an explanation for all this. Look, probably the newspaper got it wrong about him quitting his job. There’s a woman at the office, Tara, I’m pretty sure she’s sleeping with Don. She’s the one telling the paper all these lies about me and Adam.”

Dorie and Julia exchanged a look.

“I think,” Ellis said, “maybe we should call the police. Just in case.”

“And tell them what?” Madison said heatedly. “Here’s the woman they’re looking for up in Jersey? The one who maybe helped her husband steal a couple million dollars?”

“If I was a cop, I’d lock your ass up in a heartbeat,” Julia said matter-of-factly. “And that’s before I knew you had a hundred grand hidden on the top shelf of your armoire.”

“Maybe we don’t call the police right away,” Dorie murmured.

“Okay,” Ellis said. “What do we do—to keep Madison safe until she can go home and clear her name?”

“Look,” Madison said, sounding braver than she looked. “Adam Kuykendall isn’t exactly Al Capone. He’s not even six feet tall, weighs maybe 160 pounds, soaking wet. He wears Coke-bottle glasses, and I happen to know he flunked out of community college. Twice. He’s not that scary and he’s really not that smart.”

“But from what you say, he’s in debt up to his eyeballs, and he’s definitely motivated,” Ellis reminded her. “That sounds like a scary combination to me. Plus, he knows where you’re staying.”

“I could leave,” Madison replied heatedly. “I will leave. As soon as I let Adam know what’s going on, I’m outta here.”

“That’s not necessary,” Dorie said. “If you say your friend can be trusted, we believe you. We want you to stay. Right?” she said, glaring first at Julia, and then at Ellis.

“Right,” Ellis mumbled.

“I never said she should go in the first place,” Julia muttered.

37

Dinnertime. Julia stared into the refrigerator, studying its contents with a mixture of disdain and outright disgust. “Leftovers. A jar of marinara sauce. A package of chicken thighs. Since it’s my night to cook, I move that we go out for dinner tonight. My treat. All in favor?”

Madison’s hand shot up in the air. Dorie glanced apologetically at Ellis, and then raised her hand too.

“Oh, all right,” Ellis grumbled. “I’m sick of chicken too. What did you have in mind? Do we have any coupons?”

“Pizza!” Dorie crowed. “I have been craving pizza all day. Thick, gooey, triple-cheese pizza.”

“Pizza? Here?” Madison said. “What do southerners know about pizza? Have you people ever tasted real pizza? There’s a place at home. Carmine’s. The owner is right off the boat from Italy. The crust is so thin, it’s like paper. The cheese is real fresh-shaven parmigiano-reggiano, not that crap from the green can, and they make the tomato sauce themselves, smoke and cure their own pepperoni, and they bake it in a real wood-fired pizza oven.”

“Oh, God,” Julia moaned. “Not a pizza snob. Spare me, please. I really don’t care where we go, I just need to get out of this house tonight. I’m getting cabin fever.”

“I know,” Ellis said meaningfully. “It’s been a long day.”

“I’ve got a better idea than pizza anyway,” Julia announced. “What about that place up the road, Tortuga something? The menu is in that notebook of yours, Ellis, and it looks pretty good. But more to the point, did you know they’ve got a beach-volleyball court in the back of that place?”

“Since when do you play beach volleyball?” Ellis asked.

“I don’t, but guys do,” Julia replied, waggling her eyebrows. “Hot, sweaty, tanned, ripped, buff guys. And did I mention shirtless? Yes, shirtless. Mmmm. How does that sound?”

“I’m in,” Dorie said breathlessly.

“Dorie!” Ellis exclaimed.

“What? Look, I’m pregnant, not dead. This all-girl stuff is fine as far as it goes, but my hormones are friggin’ raging out of control right now. I just want to engage in a little harmless spectator leering. Is that so wrong?”

“I wouldn’t mind staring at some man-candy myself,” Madison admitted. “Take my mind off my worries.”

Ellis was leafing through her notebook. “Here it is,” she cried triumphantly. “Tortugas’ Lie! Two-for-one weeknight appetizers. But we’ve got to get there before seven.”

“It’s twenty ’til,” Julia announced, getting up from the table. “Let’s roll!”

*   *   *

They ordered steamed shrimp and crab, conch fritters, and Baja fish tacos, and ate all of it from paper plates, sitting on the wooden bleachers overlooking the restaurant’s sand volleyball court, where a dozen shirtless men, as promised, jumped and spiked and dove and joked and hollered.

“Ah,” Julia said, sniffing the air appreciatively. “The sweet smell of testosterone.” She took a long swig from her lime-spiked Corona and tilted up the brim of the straw cowboy hat she’d grabbed on her way out the door.

“Y’all, I have a confession to make.”

“This’ll be good,” Ellis told Madison under her breath.

“I folded. I called Booker this morning and invited him down for the weekend.”