The Starfish Sisters: A Novel(59)

“This is the issue?” he says, pointing.

“Yes. Someone left it overnight at some point.”

Phoebe comes out on the porch, closing the door behind her. “It was here when I came to pick up my granddaughter.”

“Have you had any trouble? Any threats?”

I give him the rundown. The dead squirrel, the guy at the Pig ’N Pancake, now this. “I’m on the target list for the LNB. They put me in the hospital six months ago.”

“I heard about that. I’m sorry.” He purses his lips. “I wouldn’t be surprised to hear there was a chapter in the mountains around here. Lotta crazies up there in their compounds. I’ll dig around.”

“The guy who verbally attacked her at the Pig ’N Pancake earlier this week seemed like a regular,” Phoebe says. “It seemed like the waitress knew him.”

He writes something on the pad in his hand, then lifts his sunglasses to see the paint more clearly.

Jasmine pokes her head out. “Hey, what—”

I block her view with my body and hustle her back inside. “None of your business, kiddo,” I say, closing the door with my back. “Go wait in the living room, please.”

She cocks her head. Considers. “Okay.”

“I’ll make sure she stays inside. Bryce has some more questions.”

The sheriff has taken some photos. “I’ll ask the lab about the squirrel, see if they got anything. Don’t hold your breath—things take a while here. Not like LA.”

I nod. “I grew up here, you know.”

“In the meantime, I assume you have an alarm system?”

“I’ve had a problem with it, I think. But—”

Joel raises a hand with a plastic bag of various parts. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“I’d suggest making sure it’s on all the time.”

This does not make me feel better, but I remember Maui barking wildly when Joel arrived yesterday. Maybe Phoebe would let me borrow him until they figure out who is targeting me.

Again. As if it’s happening right now, I see the trash on my sidewalk, feel the sun on my face as I walk toward it—

Sweat breaks across my brow and down my neck, and I force myself to take in a long, slow breath. Hold it for a count of four. Breathe out slowly. Joel walks Bryce to his car, and they exchange a few words. I continue the breathing until he comes back up the steps. “Did the men get things all straightened out?” I say with an edge of annoyance.

To my surprise, he smiles ever so slightly, and claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, girlie.” His tone is sardonic. “The boys got you covered.”

My nerves are shaking but calmer now. “Come on in. Want some tea?”

“Coffee?”

His request kindles the softest puff of . . . yearning? Peace? “I might have some.”

Jasmine dances out into the kitchen, a drawing in her hand. “Look! Maui and Yul Brynner.”

The cat is especially good, with an exaggerated mask and anime eyes, and she’s captured something goofy about Maui. “Sweetheart, this is amazing!” I curl a hand around her neck, feeling her thick hair, and suddenly feel Beryl all around me, the sense of her bosomy body, the softness of leaning into her. I can almost smell her, fog and ocean and hints of oil paint.

Time, I think. Rivers of time we can only ride forward. I kiss Jasmine’s head.

Phoebe says, “We should probably get back. I have to finish some work.”

“Can I stay here with Maui?”

“No, Suze has things to do, too.” She gives me a look over Jasmine’s head that I can’t quite interpret. I know enough to back her up. “But Maui can stay.” She looks at me. “If you want him to.”

“Oh, yes, please.”

“Come on!” Jasmine says. “Why can’t I stay, too?”

“Joel and I have some things to do here,” I say. “I’ll come find you guys later. They said it might be sunny this afternoon. Maybe we can all walk on the beach? Have your nana show off her tide pool knowledge.”

“Okay.” She leans close and hugs me with her whole body, unselfconscious, her head against my meager chest. Beryl was probably much nicer to sink into.

“You okay?” Phoebe asks.

I nod.

“Come find us later.” She hugs me, too. I smell hints of Beryl, but also the fullness of Phoebe herself, intensified as if her body temperature is higher. I think of Ben holding her and something in me lightens.

“I will.”

They leave me and Joel standing in the kitchen, alone. I stick my hands in my back pockets, not quite able to look away from his sober, kind face. A thousand tiny moments and dozens of big ones wash around my brain, making my heart flutter wildly. I swallow. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” His eyes soften. I notice his throat, and he swallows. His tone is gruff when he says, “How about that coffee?”



It takes a few minutes to locate the coffeemaker, and another couple to dig coffee out of the freezer. It’s good to have something to do with my hands. “I hope this is still good,” I comment, examining it. “I bought it over the summer.”

“It’ll be fine. I’m not that picky.”