“How’s the new place coming?” Elizabeth said.

“Oh, the permit process was terrible.” Megan turned to Nina and said, “We’re going to move up the hill from Siesta Court soon. Green River’s going to ruin this street, so we’re building up on the mountain, about a quarter mile from Elizabeth. And it’s getting too… too… oh, you know, all the locals down here. God, the jokes tonight. I mean, get some wit.” Ted and Elizabeth laughed.

“We had such a scare,” Megan went on. “The fire on the ridge came within a hundred feet of our construction site, and we had just got the framing completed. Ted has spent every spare second up there for months. When we found out the next morning-Ted had a fit.”

“Oh, look, they’re building a bonfire,” Nina said. Just below the deck, in a clearing circled by stones, Darryl and Sam had just finished constructing a huge pile of dead wood. While the others watched, they set fire to it in several places.

“They always have a bonfire,” Elizabeth said. “It’s illegal, I think, but they don’t care. They grew up with the local cops.”

“Oh, my God, Nina,” Megan said. “Look over there. You better go protect Ben.”

“Britta keeps trying,” Ted said. “Ben’s never been interested.”

Megan lowered her voice. “I don’t know how David puts up with it. I mean, Britta and Sam last year. Debbie was so upset when she found out. Sam promised her, never again, and she stayed with him.”

Nina saw that Ben had picked up a couple of plastic chairs to bring down to the fire, but Britta had moved in on him.

As the evening progressed and Britta got drunker her eyes had taken on the wet insatiable look of a dog in heat. Ben kept his head down in defense mode. Britta worried him like one of Ruthie’s cats worrying a rat. She eyed him across the deck. She oozed close to him. His face reddened as she whispered in his ear. Then she turned, but just as he began to relax she would go at him again.

Finally she landed right in his face, saying something again, tongue flicking, plump lips moist and open. Ben must have had enough. He raised his hand and put it on her chin and gently but definitely pushed her away. She swayed in one place for a few seconds, shrugged, gave him the finger, staggered off, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one to steady herself.

The other neighborhood women watched her faltering progress along the deck without comment, her eyes speckled yellow from the porch light.

The men had not noticed what had just happened. Except for Ben, who had gone into the house, they were lounging together across from the fire, hidden in moon shadows. Bursts of talk and exclamations flew into the air like hails of bullets.

“A toast!” David Cowan said from down there. The men punched their cans into the air. Britta approached the men. “What’re you guys talking about, hmm?” she asked.

“Danny,” Sam said. “We’re toasting Danny.” Britta’s hips swiveled his way, drawn like a magnet to a Frigidaire. She sailed down the stairs toward the fire.

Nina picked up her chair and started down the stairs behind her. She passed Debbie, who looked worried.

A rough circle of chairs grew up around the fire, as most of the neighbors drifted down from the deck and sat near the warmth. Nina sat down beside Ben, who had reappeared.

“Figuring anything out?” he said.

“Having a great time,” she answered.

George and Jolene sat down beside her, saying to the others, “Debbie’s all tired out. She’s gone inside and said good night to y’all.”

Across the fire, David Cowan, Sam, and Darryl had set up their chairs. Ted joined Megan and they pulled up chairs on Nina’s other side.

Illegal or not, Nina loved the big fire blazing up. It reminded her of the old days on the beach at Carmel when they still allowed fires at the foot of Ocean Avenue. But Darryl and Sam had settled back and she was wondering who was going to tend it in the liquor-soaked post-dinner hour.

Darryl’s eyes followed Elizabeth as she moved around the circle. Suddenly he got up and followed her and said something to her.

She shook her head and he took her arm. Nina heard him say “Please.” The woman shook him off and came over to sit by Megan. Nina noticed she no longer wore the soft purse over her shoulder.

“Here,” Ted said, “I brought something for the good guys.” He passed a silver flask to Elizabeth, who tipped it back sharply, like she needed a shot. Her face flushed and she said, “I understand Courvoisier is good for the heart also.”

“Absolutely,” Ted said. “Was Darryl bothering you?”

“He’s harmless.”

“He thinks he’s in love with you,” Megan said with a laugh.

“I like Tory,” Elizabeth said. “She’s dedicated to him and their family. I honor that.” They all were silent for a few minutes, and then Ted and Megan started talking with each other about their construction contractor.

Elizabeth turned to Nina and said, her head close to Nina’s so no one else could hear, “So you and Ben went to high school together?”

“Uh huh.”

“Nina Balzac, huh?”

“That’s right,” Nina said. Elizabeth’s gray eyes had a steady insistence.

“The French writer,” she said.

“I heard there was one.”

“Oh, yes. There certainly is. I did a paper on him at Stanford. Honoré de Balzac. Alas. He was not at all Hungarian.” She crossed her legs. “His family came from the South of France. His name came from the Latin Balteanus.”

“You’re making that part up for sure,” Nina said.

“I remember because of the anus part. I thought it was funny. When you’re eighteen stuff like that is funny.”

“Well, my grandfather’s family came from Budapest.”

Elizabeth looked down. “Your shoes betray you,” she said with a blinding smile. Nina looked down at her new shoes, which had seemed quite innocuous when she put them on.

“Børn shoes,” Elizabeth went on. “Hand-sewn in European style. You don’t belong in this crowd any more than I do. And you seriously don’t belong with Ben.”

“Because I wear expensive shoes?”

Elizabeth laughed slightly. “Well, let’s just say, it tells me a lot more about you than you intended to tell. Are you a Fed? Is this about the fires?”

“Whatever.” It was all Nina could manage.

“I’d like to get your phone number and talk to you some more.”

“Sure,” she said. She dredged a scrap of paper from her purse and wrote it down.

Just then Britta came down the stairs, holding tightly to the railing.

“She’s got my purse,” Elizabeth said in a voice that was stricken with sudden anxiety.

Britta picked her way around the fire. When she came to Elizabeth, Elizabeth stood up and said, “Give me that.”

Britta smiled and whispered at the woman, putting her arm around her so Elizabeth had to stoop. Elizabeth listened and laughed desperately, as if trying to ingratiate her way free.

Looking around with a wicked grin, Britta said loudly, getting everyone’s attention, “I was looking for a match and your purse was handy. But looky what I found.” She held up a square black object.

“A tape recorder!” Britta crowed. “And it was rolling! She’s been taping us!”

“That’s not mine!”

“Oh, then I’ll just keep it and listen to it and tell everybody what’s on it tomorrow.”

“Look, Britta, just give it to me,” Elizabeth said. She seemed about to cry.

“Give it to her,” Ben said. Moving to Britta fast, he snatched the tape recorder out of her hand and gave it to Elizabeth. “And the purse.” He gave that back too.

“What’s that thing for?” George boomed.

Elizabeth didn’t answer. The fire seemed to answer in her place, surging up.

“Why are you spying on us?” George said. His voice held a new note of menace.

“I forgot about it. It wasn’t on,” Elizabeth said. “Anyway, I should go.”

“Don’t go,” Ben said, standing close by.