Chapter One
Arrival
The ferry nosed into Avalon like a promise, smiles and laughter spilling over the railings. Harmony felt the island shift beneath her feet, as if it had been waiting for her. A gull circled low, watching her instead of the water, causing a chill to chase down her spine.
She shook it off. She’d stood in this exact spot dozens of times before, joy rising the moment her eyes found the island. This should’ve been no different.
Yet, it was.
“Back where you belong,” her cousin, Cass, said, flicking long blonde hair over her shoulder as she turned with a bright smile and sparkling blue eyes.
The two of them threaded through the crowd, bags dragging behind.
Cass’s voice was light and teasing as she squeezed Harmony’s hand.
“You and this island have a mutual crush.”
“It’s merely a fling,” Harmony quickly replied, smiling as she gazed out at the marina and beyond.
Pastel buildings climbed the hillside like candy, boats rocked in the bay, and bodies played in the tide, children’s squeals carrying on the breeze.
She shrugged, then conceded, “Well, maybe it’s a long, complicated affair. ”
“You’ve been coming every few months for years,” Cass said. “At this point, I expect wedding invitations from the Catalina Chamber of Commerce with Jim presiding.”
Harmony laughed. It could very well be true. This place grounded her in ways nothing else could.
Though the sunlight was warm and familiar, it struck her wrong today.
It was too sharp, like a camera flash she hadn’t been ready for.
The last year had left her raw. When her ex-husband walked away .
. . with another woman, he’d told her that she felt too much.
She’d laughed it off . . . until she realized he meant it as a flaw, not a compliment.
Then, she wasn’t laughing anymore. On the mainland, feeling too much had made it difficult to function.
On Avalon, it was the only thing that woke her up.
So why did it feel different this time?
It didn’t feel like a welcome. It felt like an assessment.
As if something old was taking her measure.
And beneath that, another awareness threaded through it, human and deliberate, like someone had been studying this place as long as she had, learning its corners and shadows the way she’d learned its tides.
“Coffee first,” Cass decreed. “Before we run into everyone.”
“Everyone?” Harmony asked, amused. “You say it like we’re walking into a family reunion in a courtroom.”
“First rule of Avalon,” Cass said, bumping her shoulder. “Nothing here stays secret for long.”
“Is there a second rule?” Harmony asked.
“The deputies see whatever the island misses.”
Harmony snorted, but Cass didn’t smile this time.
“I’m serious,” she added quietly as she looked around. “People talk. Things echo. There are no clean exits here. Just stories that fade slower than you think.”
Cass shook off the serious moment and flashed the grin that had brought more than a few men to their knees. Harmony decided not to push.
They cut along Crescent Avenue, known to the locals as Front Street, a perfect curve of storefronts and bright sunlight, a slow parade of lives on display.
Bluewater’s patio buzzed, the scent of oysters and lemon drifting into the street.
Harmony scanned faces—tourists flushed with excitement and locals with practiced half-smiles.
A thin ripple passed beneath her skin. She wanted it to be the breeze, but it felt more targeted.
The art gallery’s windows displayed glass and color. Down the street, the Marlin Club waited like a secret that knew exactly who it would let in.
Harmony had always been good at reading people, better at recording them. It was safer that way. Observers didn’t cause damage. They only wrote it down. At least, that’s what she’d always told herself. She was off at the moment, though. It was shaking her normal calm.
The island usually sharpened her senses. The water was bluer. Rumors traveled faster. Night felt closer when you walked alone. Some said the island didn’t like it when visitors stayed for too long. Harmony no longer felt like a visitor, though. She felt like someone who belonged.
At The Catalina Coffee and Cookie Company in the Metropole Market Place, the air cooled, and the smell of roasted beans wrapped around them. A woman behind the counter recognized them and lifted a hand.
“Hey, Cass. Harmony. Back already?” Her name tag read, ALBA. Her smile was genuine, even if faint shadows clung beneath her eyes.
“Can’t seem to stay away,” Cass said, leaning on the counter like she owned it. “Two iced lattes—extra shots, extra caramel, please.”
“On it,” Alba said, already moving. Her skin was flushed, and she looked tired, though her smile didn’t falter.
“Busy morning?” Harmony asked.
Alba’s eyes flicked to the waterfront, and she sighed. “A wedding party came over on the eight A.M., a bachelor party on the nine, and the gossip train rolled in at nine-thirty.” She winked. “You know how it is.”
Harmony accepted the cups when they were ready, condensation slick beneath her fingers. Beside her, Cass stared out the door, eyes narrowing as she cataloged faces.
“Don’t stare too hard,” Harmony warned.
“I’m not staring. I’m anticipating.” Cass took a long sip.
Harmony looked out at the sea of people and tried to shake off the unease.
Her latest book release had stalled. Her divorce was freshly final.
The loss of her lifelong friend hovered in every quiet moment.
They were all blows she hadn’t yet recovered from.
She’d come to the island to forget the pain and find herself again, but she wasn’t sure where to start. She wasn’t used to this much loss.
Cass gave her a look—one that knew, but didn’t press. She reached out and rubbed Harmony’s back. She looked over Harmony’s shoulder, and brightness slid over her features.
“Yay, Tosh is here!” Cass clapped, tugging Harmony from the coffee shop toward the outside tables that were buzzing with voices and fingers on keyboards.
Tosh wasn’t hard to spot. He wore a crisp blue button-down shirt, a tan that never seemed to fade, and a smile that said he always won because he wrote the rules.
He walked with the easy confidence of a man who closed deals while laughing.
A slim brunette in oversized sunglasses clung to his arm.
Harmony recognized Lisa from photos—glossy hair, dancer’s posture, a delicate diamond at her throat catching both sunlight and attention.
Tosh spotted Cass and changed direction without breaking stride.
“Ladies,” he said, as if they’d kept him waiting. “Do you bring the sunshine, or do you simply hoard it?”
“Hi, Tosh,” Cass practically sang, bouncing before leaning in for a hug. “The other half of Avalon’s favorite invasion has arrived.” She bumped his hip, raising her arms in a small cheer.
“I’ve missed you both.” Tosh’s eyes sparkled. “Welcome back.”
“Good to be back,” Harmony said with more reserve. “I see you’ve kept the island running while we were gone.”
“Someone has to,” he said, amused. “Lisa, this is Cass and Harmony. Cass keeps everyone on their toes . . . or knees.” He winked as Cass preened. “Harmony watches people like they’re on the witness stand, and writes about dangerous people.”
Lisa slid off her sunglasses. Her smile was pretty, but careful—a girlfriend assessing two women who clearly mattered to Tosh. Harmony caught it and understood. No judgment. Just data.
“Dangerous people?” Lisa asked. “Sounds interesting. How do you find them?”
“I haven’t run out of material yet,” Harmony replied. “So clearly danger is all around us.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Cass said. “She’ll kill us all off in a book and change our names by one letter. She’s ended Tosh’s life many times in various, brutal ways.”
Harmony winked, confirming without confirming.
“Once I do that, though, you’ll complain that I made you too attractive,” Harmony said.
Lisa laughed, finally relaxing. “Impossible. Make me a goddess, please. I want to be eternal.”
Her fingers tightened on Tosh’s arm, a tiny, instinctive claim. Harmony filed it away like she did everything else, stacking observations like smooth stones.
The crowd shifted, and another familiar voice broke through.
“Tell me someone ordered a muffin big enough to marry.”
Candy swept in, all bracelets and glitter-streaked hair, guitar strap slung proudly across her body. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, and a tad too shiny. She kissed Alba’s cheek, then draped herself dramatically against the counter.
“Harmony! The good witch is back.” Candy’s glassy gaze warmed. “Play me something I can live inside.”
“I don’t play,” Harmony said. “I record.”
“Same instrument,” Candy replied, tapping her temple. “Different skill sets.”
“Candy,” Tosh said, fond and exasperated. “It’s far too early for trouble.”
“It’s never too early for anything,” Candy said, leaning toward Lisa. “Hi. You look like a mermaid who figured out how to walk.”
Lisa blinked, surprised into a genuine smile. “I’ll take that.”
“Everyone’s very charming this morning,” Cass murmured, amused. “We should buy stock in Advil since it’s clearly erased all of the hangovers.”
The air shifted. Mary approached—tall, beautiful in a way that ignored time, with long dark hair and eyes that carried a storm waiting for lightning to strike. She nodded at Alba, Cass, and Harmony. Her gaze slid over Tosh, then deliberately skipped Lisa.
“Mary,” Cass said, gently. “Join us.”
“I’m not staying,” Mary answered, even as her hands wrapped around the warm cup Alba slid her way. “I saw the ferry come in and wondered if you were here.”
Up close, there was something new in her eyes—a quiet, unsettling calm, like she’d already made peace with a decision no one else knew about yet.
“Everyone sees everything here,” Tosh said knowingly.