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early. Hayley, Taylor, Colton, and me. She was alive when we left. She was having a blowout with Bree.”
    â€œJust procedure,” Annie repeated.
    Annie tried to diffuse the drama by asking Kim how things were going at the mill.
    â€œI hope you’re not one of the layoffs I heard about,” she said.
    Kim, her worried expression undiminished by the casual tone of the conversation, stood and strode decisively toward the door. Turning her hand on the knob, she said, “No. Not me. At least, not yet. But housing starts are down, and if things don’t get better, they won’t need an accountant.”
    Annie took the hint and said a hasty good-bye. Kim managed a smile and shut the door after her.
    Three rooms away, two worried twins waited for their friend. The walls were thin in Port Gamble’s historic homes. As a breeze blew the Doritos bag into the neighboring yard and darkness shuttered the sky over the bay, Hayley and Taylor heard every word.
    What had Beth Lee done?

Chapter 8
    LIKE ALL VICTORIA’S SECRET STORES in the world, the one at the Kitsap Mall in Silverdale, a few miles south of Port Gamble, was an eruption of pink, a tidal wave of lace, and a ginormous Slip ‘N Slide of satin. Amid the thongs, French-cut panties, lacey bras, and whatever else a girl thinks she needs or a boy hopes she wears, Drew escorted Brianna toward a table next to a white-and-black mannequin with a bored-to-tears expression. That her bedroom on Desolation View Drive was drenched in Olivia Grant’s blood seemed far from either teen’s mind.
    â€œYou’d look so hot in that,” he said, indicating the microscopic panties and sheer bra.
    â€œI look hot in whatever I wear—or don’t wear, for that matter,” Brianna said. “I’m glad you understand that, Drew.” She kissed him, held up a light-pink thong and grinned.
    â€œI had a slingshot like that once,” he said.
    â€œIf you did, then you’re a total dork,” Brianna said, as she sorted through thongs and bras in various shades of pink.
    â€œDo you like carnation or rose?” she asked.
    Drew raised his brow. “They look the same to me,” he said.
    â€œDon’t be dumb,” Brianna said. “Carnation is lighter, a more pure shade.”
    â€œI guess so,” he said, checking her attitude. “Whatever you say, Bree.”
    Brianna nuzzled her boyfriend again as they made their way across the store toward the cashier. Neither of them knew they were being watched, but they were. Certainly store security personnel always keep extra alert around teenage shoppers. But aside from the video camera fixated in their direction and a skeezy man who was shopping for the “wife” he didn’t have, there was one more set of eyes riveted on them.
    Watching the young couple from across the store was classmate Starla Larsen’s mom, Mindee. Like everyone, she’d heard what had happened at the Connorses’ home. Instead of concern, she actually felt a little relief. Maybe now the people of Port Gamble would stop their incessant finger-pointing in her direction? It wasn’t all her fault that Katelyn Berkley had died in her bathtub last year. Certainly, she accepted a small, itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny part in the events that led to the death of her daughter’s former best friend. Yes, Mindee had faked those bullying e-mails. Yes, she had written terrible things about the fifteen-year-old. But she’d had a good reason. She was defending her daughter. All those judgmental moms who had stopped being her clients at the hair salon would have done the same thing. She was sure of it. Yes, she played a role in the whole mess, but it was tiny, and Katelyn’s electrocution was proven to have been an accident. Mindee’s part in it was merely a bad decision.
    A bad decision just like those thongs Brianna Connors was buying with her embarrassingly horny boyfriend in