Mother-Daughter Murder Night(111)

When they got to the drive-in in Salinas, Lana talked the farmer into letting them park in the middle of the front row, in a space Beth was pretty sure the farmer reserved for his own wife. Lana opened a cooler and passed out sodas to all of them—Coke for Jack, Sprite for her and Beth. Beth looked at the Sprite bottle, confused. She’d never seen Lana drink any soda other than Diet Coke. But Lana was already mid-swig. Beth opened her own bottle and took a sip. It was some kind of sparkling wine. Not bad.

The movie was a whodunit. It might have been a good one, but Lana and Jack’s loud, premature conclusions about the murderer made it impossible for Beth to follow the story. By her second bottle of Sprite, it didn’t really matter to Beth either.

Beth looked at Lana. Her mother’s eyes were shining in the reflected light from the screen, her new suit hidden under the patchwork quilt she was sharing with Jack in the back seat. Beth didn’t know, couldn’t know, all the ways it would prove insufferable to have Monterey County’s newest land consultant living in what had once been her garage. She didn’t know the disasters would start the very next day, when she’d come home to find a massive hole punched in her roof to install skylights she hadn’t ordered. All Beth knew was that they were together, they were safe, and they were laughing. And that was enough.





Acknowledgments




This book was born out of desperation and love. Three years ago, my mother—my smart, energetic, independent mother—was diagnosed with metastatic lung cancer. I changed my life and quit my job to care for her. We were grateful to be together, but as the surgeries and treatments mounted, we started to lose hope. We needed a distraction, a project that could connect us in joy instead of anxiety. This book was that project. My mom and I have always enjoyed reading mysteries, so we started imagining one that featured characters a bit like us—hardworking California women trying to balance professional ambition and motherhood. I wrote, and my mom read, and we immersed ourselves in the world of the Rubicons. This book is dedicated to my mother, Sarina, who continues to bring strength, love, and humor into the world.

While this story started with me and my mom, it didn’t end with us. The business of inventing a story is terrifying, and I hit about a million moments when I wondered if I should give up. Each time, a kind word from a loved one kept me going. It was my mom texting me to ask what would happen next, my best friend cooking me dinner, my husband reassuring me this was a good use of time. Henri Matisse once said that creativity takes courage. It does. But it also takes encouragement. Thank you to all the family, friends, and generous humans who read early drafts and gave valuable feedback, including Sibley Simon, Morgan Simon, Carson Nicodemus, Beck Tench, Elise Granata, Meg Watt, Scott Simon, Debbie Richetta Simon, Kay Sibley, Mike Sibley, Paul Dichter, Susan Dichter, Abby Saul, Jessica BrodeFrank, Katherine Caldwell, Kate Coltun, Maria Daversa, Will Delhagen, Jo Dwyer, Elaine Heumann Gurian, Chloe Jones, Allison Kraft, Erin Leary, Taylor Lilley, Lilia Marotta, Kiera Peacock, Serena Rivera, Kate Roberts, Sierra Van Ryck DeGroot, and Susan Walter. Your suggestions made this book stronger, and I was buoyed by your support.

Thank you to those who contributed to the research for this book. I’ve lived in the Monterey Bay for fifteen years, but this project helped me grow closer to the place I call home. I acknowledge and honor the longstanding care for this land by the Amah Mutsun Tribal Band and Ohlone Native people, whose stewardship continues despite waves of oppression and dislocation. Thank you to the many agencies that protect and conserve Elkhorn Slough. Thank you to my daughter Rocket for being my trusty research buddy, kneeling on the front of my paddleboard and pointing out potential murder sites along the banks. Thank you to Robert Stephens for sharing historical documents, touring me through the real Roadhouse ranch, and patiently spelling the name of every plant and bird we encountered on the rolling hills above the slough. Thank you to Jess Grigsby and Kayak Connection for teaching me about the art and business of kayak touring. Thank you to Eileen Campbell, Mark Silberstein, and the Monterey Bay Aquarium for your illustrated guide to the flora and fauna of Elkhorn Slough. Thank you to Terry Corwin for explaining the legal intricacies of land trusts, and thanks to Doctors Rachel Abrams and Bill Skinner for always being up for a gruesome medical question. Despite all this excellent advice, I’m sure I made some mistakes. All errors and exaggerations are mine.

Everyone I’ve thanked so far got involved before we ever imagined this book would be published. But here it is! Real! Which is only possible because of the brilliant efforts of my agent, Stefanie Lieberman, ably assisted by Molly Steinblatt and Adam Hobbins. Stefanie, Molly, and Adam taught me so much about good writing, and they challenged me to keep adding depth and layers to this story.

Thank you to Stefanie for bringing this story to Liz Stein, my editor at William Morrow. I first met Liz by phone while I was laid up with COVID-19. Even through my fevered haze, I heard Liz’s vision for this book loud and clear. Thank you to Liz for steering me down creeks I might not have visited. Thank you for pushing me to put my whole heart into the Rubicon women—their goals, desires, conflicts, and most of all, the love they have for each other. I hope that love shines through.

The whole team at William Morrow has been wonderful to work with. As a debut novelist, I often felt I was stumbling into someone else’s serious business. Thank you to sensitivity readers Cath Liao and Alejandra Oliva for helping me realize the full potential of these characters. Thank you to Stephanie Evans, a wonderful copy editor, and to Kim Glyder and Nancy Singer for the stylish cover art and interior design. Thank you to marketing and publicity superstars Rachel Berquist, Danielle Bartlett, and Kathleen Carter, for helping readers find and connect with the Rubicons. And thank you to all the hardworking folks at William Morrow and HarperCollins who helped bring this book to life.