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The backyard was dark, save for the Jacuzzi lights illuminating us. The water lapped gently against the walls, and I was aware of how loud the stillness was.

“It’s fine,” I said, not looking away from her.

She shook her head slowly. “I’m not stupid.”

She pushed harder against my leg under the water for a moment, then pushed herself out of the water onto the edge of the deck, next to me.

“Let me show you,” she whispered, leaning into me.

Her mouth found mine, and I didn’t resist. My stomach twisted with both guilt and excitement. She pulled me down into the water, lifted my shirt over my head. I distinctly remember seeing it float in the water next to us.

She moved back away from me, and I followed her to the other side of the Jacuzzi. When I reached her, the black bikini top was gone.

We kissed again, harder this time, some of my anger at Kate pushing me. Groping, grabbing, wet. Kate wouldn’t have done this-she’d have been too worried about her parents finding us. Emily clearly didn’t mind being half-naked with me.

A noise at the far side of the yard snapped in the air and startled me.

I pulled away from Emily. “What was that?”

She wrapped her arms tighter around my neck. “I don’t know. I don’t care.” She twined her legs around mine, pushing hard against me. “Come on, Noah.”

I knew I needed to leave, to jump out of that water, to walk out of the Crier house and never look back. I was angry at Kate for leaving me behind, for having a better opportunity than I had, for not having told me the truth. I knew having sex with her older sister wasn’t going to solve my problems, alleviate my hurt. But I was also eighteen, pissed off at the world, and in a Jacuzzi with an attractive, willing girl.

Emily pressed her lips to my ear and whispered, “Come on.”

I pulled away. “I gotta go.”

She clung to me. “No you don’t.”

I untangled myself from her arms, water splashing around us, and pushed up onto the step and out of the Jacuzzi.

I turned around to her, water dripping off me onto the deck. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

My shirt was to her right in the water. She grabbed it, wadded it up, and flung it at me. “Figures. Whatever.” Her mouth twisted sourly like she’d bit into something awful. “See you later.”

I caught the wet shirt but didn’t put it on. I turned and walked back through the house, out the front door, and down to my car.

I don’t know why I left that night. I was furious at Kate, at her parents, and Emily was a willing participant. But something about it didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the fear of being caught. Maybe I just couldn’t get over how I felt about Kate.

But walking away from Emily felt like the right thing to do that night.

Eleven years later, though, staying with Emily felt like the only thing to do.

22

I woke to a note on Emily’s pillow.

I’LL CALL YOU. E.

If I’d been the first to wake, I would’ve left the same note, just with an “N.”

I was alone in her house, and it just didn’t fit. I wasn’t sure that the previous hours had felt right-except of course for the physical part, which always did-and I needed to breathe.

I dressed quickly, grabbed the key she’d given me off the coffee table, and dashed out the front door. I knew I probably looked silly jogging to my car, but I didn’t want to run into Emily coming back from wherever she’d gone. I wasn’t prepared for that meeting yet.

PCH was empty at eight in the morning, and I made it back to Mission Beach in half an hour. I slipped into my shorts, grabbed the six-foot squash tail from beside the sofa, and walked down to the water, letting the salt and waves fill my senses as I waded in.

I dropped onto my board and paddled out. I ducked under the small waves that were rolling in, letting the icy shock of the Pacific ride up my spine and into my ears with a roar. The chill of the early morning air hit me as I emerged from the waves, making my body tingle.

I saw Carter pop up on the horizon just to my right, sliding down the face of a slow four footer that was breaking south toward the jetty. It closed out on both sides of him and he dropped off the board into the water, slapping the surface with his giant palm, frustrated. He saw me maneuvering in his direction and waited for me to reach him.

“Dude,” he said, wiping the water from his face and jumping back on his board. “Where you been?”

“You’re out early,” I said, avoiding the question.

“Break looked good.”

“Is it?”

“No. Only been out for twenty minutes or so, but the sets are slow and choppy. Getting tired of waiting for it to get better.”

We floated for a moment, the water swelling gently beneath us, and I knew we were both waiting for an answer to his question.

“Emily’s,” I said finally.

He raised a wet eyebrow. “All night?”

“All night.”

He ran a massive hand through his soaked yellow hair, the water running out of it like it was coming off a Lab’s back. “That’s interesting.”

“She gave me a key.”

“Jesus. You must rock in the sack.”

“I do, but it’s not a key to her place. It’s a key that Kate left behind.”

I nodded toward the horizon. We paddled out beyond the break and spun ourselves around so that we were facing the shore again, hoping that a decent set would roll in behind us.

“What’s it unlock?” he asked.

“Don’t know.”

“Well, good thing you have it then.”

“I know.”

We paddled forward a little, trying to find the right spot in the lineup.

“How did this occur, Lover Boy?”

I shrugged. “Not sure. We had a few drinks, went back to her place to get the key, I saw pictures of Kate on her wedding day, she cried a little, and then, shazam.”

“Shazam?”

“Shazam.”

Two small swells rolled under us, barely rising above the surface of the ocean. Not even close to something I’d consider paddling in front of.

“Was this a grief thing for you guys? Or just picking up where you left off in her Jacuzzi way back when?”

I spun sideways so I was parallel to the beach, eyeing both the shoreline and the open water. “I don’t know. Probably both of those, I guess.”

“What’d she say about it?”

“I woke up solo and got the hell out of there.”

He almost grinned. “Sounds like she was as weirded out about it as you are.”

I looked at him. “You think I’m weirded out?”

He glanced back behind him at the waves, ignoring my question. “Finally. Here we go.”

He was inside, so the first was his. He started paddling, his huge arms propelling him through the water, as the wave picked him up and carried him away.

I shifted so I was facing the beach again and moved my arms easily through the water. I felt the wall of water sweep in behind me and lift me up. I popped up on the board and my stomach dropped with excitement as I skimmed down the face of the wave, my back to the beach as I moved down the fall line at the bottom of the wave. I shifted my weight and used my right foot to snap the board back into the wave and through the lip at the top, the white water and salt spraying my face. I came back down and zigzagged for another ten feet or so before the wave died and disappeared.

I dropped to my stomach and swiveled around, heading back out to the break. I felt Carter paddle up on my right.

“Yeah, I think you’re weirded out about it,” he said.

I was, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide it. I had spent the night with the older sister of my dead ex-girlfriend, whose murder I was supposed to be investigating. I was very close to becoming Jerry Springer material.

We paddled back out, side by side.

“How does this change your assignment?” Carter said.

“I don’t know that it does.”