Ellis shivered and hugged her knees tighter.

“You’re cold,” Ty said. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. “We could go inside,” he offered.

“I’m all right,” Ellis said. She looked up at him. “What Ryan said tonight, about Ebbtide? Is it really in foreclosure?”

“Prick,” Ty muttered. “Yeah, that’s right. I got in over my head, pure and simple. I don’t want to sound too melodramatic, but if I don’t figure out a way to raise some money, fast, by September fifteenth, I’ll lose Ebbtide. That’s why I’ve been moonlighting at Caddie’s.”

“It would be so sad to lose your family home,” Ellis said. “Isn’t there anything you can do? Have you talked to anybody at the bank? I mean, I was never in the mortgage side of things, but it seems to me the last thing a bank wants right now is to have to manage another foreclosed property. Maybe you could work something out with them?”

“I’m trying,” Ty said, “but they’re not local. The bank I got my mortgage from got taken over by another bank, in Virginia. I’ve called and written letters, but I can’t ever seem to get in contact with a real human being. And in the meantime, the clock is ticking. The legal ads have started to run. And the vultures have started to circle.”

“Like Ryan and Kendra,” Ellis said.

Ty’s face darkened. “I’ll burn it to the ground before I let them get their hands on my house.”

Ellis’s eyes widened at the ferocity of his response.

“Not literally,” Ty said. “I’ll think of something. Anyway, could we change the subject?”

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

Ty pulled Ellis closer. He nuzzled her hair and her neck. “I was hoping maybe we could discuss your giving me a do-over on this evening.”

Ellis reached for the paper bag he’d left sitting beside his chair. “Only if you agree to share whatever’s in this bag. I didn’t have much dinner, remember?”

“Later,” Ty said. He turned her face to his and found her lips in the dark.

30

There was a knock at Julia’s bedroom door. When she opened it, Madison stood there, holding her cell phone in her hand. “We need to talk,” Madison said, her dark-ringed eyes still and serious. Her unwashed hair hung from a center part, and her cheap brown T-shirt was wrinkled and shrunken from the wash. She limped into the room without being invited, and sat down on the edge of a rickety orange-painted wooden chair.

The chair was one Julia had found at a charity thrift shop on Croatan Highway over the weekend, and in a fit of boredom, painted a shade called Valencia.

“Hey,” Julia started to say, but Madison held her hand up, palm outwards, stopping her before she could get started with any fake outrage.

Julia sank down onto her bed, which she’d just made up with a cheap cotton spread with bright pink, orange, and turquoise stripes, picked up at the Target store on her way back from the paint store.

“What’s up, Madison?” Julia asked, smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle in the spread.

“What did you say to him?” Madison asked.

“Who?”

“Him!” Madison said, thrusting the phone at Julia. “Look, I know you think you’re smart, messing with my phone, checking my messages. But you have no idea who you are messing with here. So just cut the act and tell me exactly what he said. And what you told him.” She crossed her legs and added, “Please.”

Julia sighed. “Is Maryn your real name?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Julia leaned forward. “Oh, but it is my business. You’re living under the same roof as me. I’ve got a right to know who you are and what you’re doing here.”

“Okay, fine. You got me. I lied. Now tell me what you told him.”

“You mean Don? I didn’t tell him anything. Who is he, anyway?”

Madison’s face was taut. “He told you his name?”

Julia thought about that. “No. He asked for Maryn, I told him you weren’t there. He asked who I was, and then he hung up.”

“You’re sure that’s all that was said? Julia, this is really important. What did you say when he asked you who were?”

She shrugged. “I said I’m Julia Capelli. Who the hell are you? When the phone rang, the caller ID just said ‘unknown caller.’ After he hung up, I listened to some other messages on your phone from ‘Don.’ It was the same voice.”

Madison crossed and uncrossed her legs. She nibbled on a ragged bit of cuticle. Julia noticed that she wasn’t wearing the big diamond engagement ring. “You actually told him your name?”

“Why wouldn’t I tell him my name?” Julia asked. “Madison, why don’t you just tell me what’s going on here and stop with the twenty questions? Who is this Don guy? And why are you running away from him? What’s got you so scared?”

Madison shook her head violently. “You wouldn’t understand. Anyway, it’s not your problem.”

“The hell it isn’t! I told him my name!”

Madison looked down at the phone. “His name is Don Shackleford. He’s my husband. I found out he’s into some bad stuff. So I left. End of story.”

“Nuh-uh,” Julia said. “You didn’t just leave. You ran. And you’re traveling under an assumed name. I think you owe us an explanation.”

“The only thing I owe you guys is the rent on that crappy room upstairs,” Madison said. “Which I already paid. And if you hadn’t been so damned nosy, messing with my phone and snooping in my private life, none of this would be an issue.”

“What kind of bad stuff is he into?” Julia asked, her eyes glittering with excitement. “Drugs? Gun running?”

“You watch too much television,” Madison said. “It’s nothing that exciting. He’s … dishonest, that’s all. I should have known better. I did know better, once.”

She stood up abruptly. “Look, my rent’s paid up. I’ll leave as soon as I figure out my next step. Probably by the weekend. In the meantime, could you please keep this to yourself? The less people who know my real name, the better. Don doesn’t have any reason to think I’d come someplace like Nags Head. I didn’t know I was coming here myself until I saw the sign on the interstate for the turnoff.”

Julia followed her to the door. “I already told the girls I know Madison isn’t your real name.”

Madison rolled her eyes. “Another big surprise.”

“You don’t have to go, you know,” Julia said. “Maybe we could help. You know, help get you out of whatever kind of jam you’re in.”

“No!” Madison said quickly. “I don’t want any help. I’ll be out of here by the weekend. Just do as I ask—don’t be running off at the mouth about me, and stay out of my business.”

She left the room as quickly as she’d come, leaving Julia with more questions than answers.

31

Maryn slammed her bedroom door and locked it. There was no getting around facts: she had to leave Ebbtide and Nags Head. What if Julia was lying about her conversation with Don? God knows what she might have told him.

Her mouth went dry at the prospect. But no, she sternly told herself. Julia might be a nosy little sneak, but she was well-meaning. And besides, she had no reason to lie once she’d been confronted. Not that it mattered now. No matter how innocuous Julia’s comments to Don seemed, she couldn’t risk staying.

She took the duffle bag out from beneath the bed, propped it on the wooden chair by the door, and started to pack. She was surprised and irritated at how sad the idea of leaving this place made her. This cruddy little room in this big, crumbling old house had become her refuge, a home in a way that the gaudy, nouveau riche town house where Don had installed her would never be a home. And these women—Ellis, Dorie, and even Julia—they weren’t friends, not really. But they were decent, generous women who might have become her friends if she’d dared to let down her guard. But she couldn’t. And now it was too late.

She had no idea where she would go next, but go she would. Maybe she’d head west? Mexico was too obvious—and anyway, she didn’t speak a word of Spanish. And what about all that money? The stacks of cash terrified her. She was no Pollyanna, but she was sure Don hadn’t earned that money legally. So far, except for her rent, she’d mostly resisted spending it. She’d need money to get as far away as possible.