Chapter Three
Exploring the Island
There was an eerie quiet in the air as everyone met outside Mary’s house.
Her vehicle waited with the top down and a radio humming, something low and lazy.
She leaned against the door in sunglasses and a loose button-up shirt, looking rested and regal in a way that didn’t match the tension threading through the group.
As they gathered on the curb, a deputy’s SUV rolled past, slowing just enough for Harmony to see Deputy Ciscel behind the wheel. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but his head turned, tracking their group for a beat longer than felt casual before the vehicle moved on.
“Climb in. We’ve got an hour before the heat tries to kill us.”
Cass climbed into the back with Harmony, who was still half-asleep and blinking against the rising sun. “Remind me again why we have to be up this early?” Harmony asked.
“Because the beach is better when it’s empty,” Mary said. “And because I don’t drink before noon without earning it.”
“And adventures that make the blood pump must start early,” Tosh added with a wink. Maybe it wasn’t excitement in his voice but something darker, something watchful.
He opened the passenger door for Torie. She brushed past him, perfume and tension trailing in the same breath. “You make it sound like a workout,” she said.
“It will be,” he murmured, eyes sliding toward her bare legs. “I promise.” His smile was full of confidence.
“Let’s get this over with,” Torie muttered, arms crossing. Her sunglasses were too dark for morning. Mary smirked as she started the engine.
The road to Two Harbors curled like a ribbon through the hills, the morning sun flashing between the cliffs and the windshield. Mary drove with one hand on the wheel, sunglasses low on her nose, a cigarette burning in the ashtray.
The drive wound along the spine of the island, cliffs dropping away to the sea. The music on the radio changed to something slower, a melancholy strum woven with the wind. Harmony tilted her head toward the open sky. Wind tangled her hair as the water flashed silver through the curves of the road.
“You’re quiet this morning,” Cass said.
“I’m listening,” Harmony answered. “The island talks if you’re willing to hear.”
“You and half the island,” Mary said dryly. “Lately, it feels like everyone’s listening. The cops. The tourists. The ones who pretend not to care.”
Harmony agreed. Cass didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole, though.
“It’s scary how much you hear,” Cass said with a laugh, but it was too short, clipped at the edges—the kind of sound people made when they were pretending not to be scared.
Tosh twisted in his seat. “What’s it saying right now?” He meant it as a joke, but the way he looked at her made her pulse skip . . . and not in a good way.
Harmony watched the water slicing through the cliffs. “That we’d better behave or else.”
The words came out darker than she’d intended, and the car went quiet for a beat too long. Torie stiffened, Cass shot her a sideways look, and Tosh’s mouth twitched like he didn’t know whether to laugh or worry. He decided on laughter.
“Then it clearly doesn’t know us very well,” he finally said.
Mary puffed on her cigarette. “No one behaves on Catalina,” she said. “That’s why people come here. To let go.”
Torie arched a brow. “What about you, Mary?”
Mary exhaled smoke, letting the wind steal it away. “I always remember what I’m owed.”
Cass had her legs tucked beneath her and scrolled through photos of the beach they were heading to. She felt tension in the air and decided to change it.
“Parsons Beach has sand that sparkles with bits of amethyst. Plus, you can find large gemstones. It’s the island’s hidden treasure.” She turned her phone toward Harmony.
“The island tends to hide everything important,” Mary murmured. “Treasure is just one of the prettier lies.”
Harmony felt the word lies land between them like a stone dropped into water—ripples unseen but inevitable.
“Sounds poetic,” Tosh said from the passenger seat. His hand rested casually on Torie’s thigh. She didn’t move it away. “You should sell that line to a greeting card company.”
Mary’s smile was faint. “I don’t write lies for a living. I live with them.”
Harmony caught Mary’s reflection in the rearview mirror—a shadow of a smile, the kind that never reached her eyes.
Behind them, Zach’s old truck rattled along the road. He’d offered to follow in case Mary’s vehicle got tired of the climb. Joe rode with him, sunglasses perched on his forehead, his grin easy and open—the kind of man who always looked happy, even if the world burned around him.
The road climbed higher. A shadow slid across the canyon below—just a passing cloud, but something about it sent a quick jolt through Harmony’s chest. For a moment, she swore the island was watching them weave their way through its inner sanctuary . . . and it clearly didn’t approve.
She glanced back once, half expecting to see another vehicle rounding the bend behind Zach’s truck, some unseen follower keeping their distance. The road was empty. The feeling wasn’t.
The SUV bumped around a bend, and Harmony let her gaze sweep across the hills. Golden grass swayed in slow ripples. Wild sage brushed the edges of the cliffs. The sea below glittered with indifferent light.
“It’s beautiful,” Cass murmured.
“Some places only reveal themselves at dawn,” Mary said, her voice distant.
“Some secrets want to be found. Others want to stay buried. Deputy Ciscel once told me they sometimes lose people out here. Currents, cliffs, bad choices. By the time anyone notices, the island’s already decided what it wants to keep. ”
“That’s not comforting,” Cass muttered as she shivered.
Tosh shot Mary a sideways grin. “Other people want to chase you back down the mountain, not drown you.”
“I hope someone chases you,” Torie said. She didn’t mean it in a good way—more like a Friday the 13th sort of chase, where Tosh trips.
Harmony leaned her head back, letting the hum beneath her ribs settle. She wasn’t sure anymore whether it was fear, anticipation, or something else entirely.
When they reached the beach, the view silenced all of them. The water below gleamed like cut glass—lavender and turquoise beneath the sun. A gull cried above the surf, and the island stretched away in a sprawl of cliffs and palms.
“This,” Cass whispered, “is unfairly beautiful. It’s amazing that we get to see it when so few do.”
“Yep, gotta have a special permit to drive the inner island roads,” Mary said.
“Takes thirty years on a waiting list to get one,” Tosh pointed out.
“That’s insane,” Harmony said.
“It keeps the island safe,” Torie said.
“I feel humbled being here,” Harmony said. “It really is spectacular.”
Mary turned off the ignition and smirked. “Do you really think beauty is fair?”
“Probably not,” Harmony admitted.
Mary gave a nod of approval. “Was this worth the early start?”
“More than worth it,” Harmony said. Beauty hurt, though. It always had. Harmony didn’t trust anything this perfect. She’d learned that perfection was usually the final breath before something shattered.
They climbed from the vehicle, leaving their shoes behind. Tosh carried the cooler. Torie carried her resentment, disguised as charm. Zach handed out beers and rum while Cass shrieked as the cold surf grabbed her toes.
When Harmony took her drink, she noticed faint raw lines along Zach’s wrist, thin and parallel, like something rough had slid against his skin recently. Rope? Rock? Tool? He didn’t seem bothered by scars.
She shook the worry away. Today wasn’t a day for it. As a matter of fact, for a while, it felt like a perfect summer afternoon—laughter echoing, bottles clinking, and teasing layered over the crash of waves.
Parsons Beach was a sweep of pale sand edged with cliffs and amethyst shimmer. The sea was impossibly clear, and every wave broke with a glint of violet. Cass squealed again as a wave splashed all the way up to her waist.
“It’s like swimming in champagne,” she called.
“Only deadlier,” Mary answered. “The currents out here don’t forgive mistakes, so be careful.”
Tosh grabbed another drink. “Then we’d best make some good mistakes with a hell of a lot of smiles before one takes us down.”
“Spoken like a professional,” Zach said as he mixed a drink. “How’s business, Tosh? Still selling dreams to fools?”
“Dreams, drinks, and bad advice,” Tosh said easily. “This island runs on all three.”
“Add women to that list,” Torie said, slipping off her cover-up. “Or are those just part of the inventory?”
He grinned. “They’re the marketing.”
Harmony watched the exchange, amused, her notebook already in her lap though she hadn’t written a word yet. Cass nudged her.
“You’re cataloging again instead of participating.”
“I can’t help it. They all speak in metaphors and feed my soul.”
“Maybe it’s foreplay,” Cass whispered.
Both women laughed. It was easy to do on such a beautiful day in an absolutely magical place.
Cass jumped up, and Harmony leaned back, letting the wind wrap around her like an old memory. She heard Cass squealing and watched as her friends got up to no good.
Cass kicked water at Zach, who pretended to block it. He laughed. “Careful, I bruise easily.”
“You’re built like a damn tree, so I don’t see how,” Cass shot back, running away.
Harmony smiled, but it felt like she had to remind her face how to do it. The laughter around her sounded off as if the island was demanding a performance, and they weren’t giving it what it wanted. Complete joy seemed out of reach.
Torie noticed Harmony’s quiet. “You good?” she asked, seeming more concerned about someone else than herself.
Harmony gave her a smile. “Just taking it all in.”
“Some love it, and some don’t appreciate it,” Torie said with a shrug.
Mary moved her blanket closer to the rocks. “There’s less wind here.”
“More shade, too, which I don’t like,” Tosh told her, staying where he was.