Chapter 43
OCEAN
Ocean stepped from her cottage and locked the door behind her.
She paused a moment, feeling the sun-drenched air on her face, then crossed the courtyard toward her car.
She needed to pick up Riley at school, to drive her to a friend’s house on the Mesa.
Normally, she would’ve made her take the bus, but she wanted to spend time with her.
Even if Riley was in a mood, Ocean still found her comforting.
She unlocked her car and paused again. Something felt wrong.
Well, of course something felt wrong: the woman she’d been dating was in jail, accused of murder. She’d really liked her, too. She still did, but what if that was just more proof that she couldn’t trust her own taste? First Zoe, now CJ.
She gazed blandly at the Marigold Cottages parking spaces, then shook herself. Enough mooning. Whatever her romantic failings, she needed to help CJ. And to talk to Riley about cheering up Mrs. B, who was as rattled by the arrest as Ocean was.
Even worse, Mrs. B kept trying to pretend she was fine.
She was not good at pretense. She still smiled and hugged, asked intrusive questions and offered unsolicited advice, but Ocean saw the cracks in her cheeriness.
And she felt helpless to do anything about it.
She struggled to see CJ as a murderer; she’d tossed and turned for three nights in a row, wrestling with that, but she had to face the fact that two people had seen her push Frank DeYoung down the stairs.
She started her car, and a rattle sounded from the left rear wheel. One more thing not to think about too closely. She couldn’t afford a serious repair, so she pretended she didn’t hear anything. Which almost worked, except a formless worry kept tugging at her as she drove to Riley’s school.
A new formless worry, like she’d missed something important. Something outside the Cottages?
Huh. She thought back, but nothing occurred to her.
She pulled to the curb at the high school and Riley slammed inside and said, “Why would he say that?”
“What?” Ocean asked.
“Yeah, no.”
“What?”
Riley turned to her and hissed, “Not talking to you!”
“Oh.” Ocean started driving, then four blocks later said: “‘Thanks for the ride, Oma. How was your day? Let me tell you about chemistry class.’”
“Bio,” Riley corrected.
Ocean eyed her. “Are you talking to me now?”
“Duh. And I’m taking bio, not chemistry. I’m not taking the AP test, though, so don’t ask.”
“I didn’t know there was an AP test.”
“Of course there’s an AP test.”
“Are you taking it?”
To her relief, Riley snickered. “You’re such a dad.”
Ocean mock-gasped as she began to drive up Carrillo Hill to the Mesa. “That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“I need to up my game.”
“Ha. So Mrs. B is pretty upset about CJ.”
“As if you aren’t.”
“I’m okay,” Ocean said. “I mean … I’m okay.”
Riley turned in her seat to look at her. “Can we talk about how weird it is that everyone at the Cottages keeps getting arrested?”
“Is that weird, or is that just Mrs. B?”
“Point.”
“I’m thinking of taking her for a spa day to cheer her up,” Ocean said. “And she’d love if you came along. What do you think about girls’ day out in Ojai?”
“You can afford a spa day?”
“Well, uh…” Ocean felt her face warm. She hated that her children had to worry about her finances. “I’ll have Mrs. B pay.”
“You’re as bad a daughter as I am!”
Ocean smiled. “And that is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, my sweetest child.”
“Second sweetest. Sure, I’ll come—if I can get another piercing.”
“Anywhere on the ear,” Ocean bargained. “And you’re paying for it.”
“Deal,” Riley said, then tapped at her phone for a minute. “Why’s Mrs. B so upset?”
“I guess she’s closer to CJ than I thought,” Ocean told her, instead of the truth: that Mrs. B felt guilty about the murders earlier in the year and wanted to redeem herself. To redeem them all.
“Yeah, or she’s desperate for you to find someone.”
“Oh, god. I hadn’t thought of that. You think so?”
Riley snorted as they crested the top of the hill, but didn’t answer. The sparkling sea unfurled in front of them. It always looked impossibly high and full from this angle, and Ocean vowed that one day she’d capture that sense of swollen over-ripeness in paint.
“Is she going to be okay when it turns out CJ actually killed the old guy?” Riley asked.
Ocean glanced at her. “You think she’s guilty?”
“Of course she is.”
“Well, whichever one of us is right, I bet it’s more complex than we think.”
“Why?”
“Because everything always is.”
“Huh. That really sucks.”
Ocean laughed. “Totally.”
“You can be wise sometimes, you know that?”
“Aw. Thank you.”
“But she’s still guilty. Cool eye makeup though.”
“Yeah.” Ocean pulled to the curb outside Riley’s friend’s house. “Well, I suspect that what matters most to Mrs. B is motivation. She doesn’t really care about the law.”
“Like that poster at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. ‘Justice without mercy is cruelty.’”
“Oh, god, I forgot that,” Ocean said. “She’s exactly like them.”
“Except she’s nicer.” Riley left the car, then said, “Thanks for the ride, Oma.”
“Don’t mention it,” Ocean said.
“How was your day?” Riley asked, then closed the car door.
“I’m laughing!” Ocean shouted after her.
Riley waved goodbye and Ocean smiled as she pulled away. She’d miss it when Riley didn’t need her for rides anymore. Which reminded her that she should talk to Mrs. B about borrowing her car. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about the rattle, which still—
Ocean jerked to a stop at the intersection. Oh, shit. Shit!
That’s what she’d missed outside the cottage: Mrs. B’s car.
There’d been an empty space where the car should’ve been. Mrs. B had already been to the YMCA that morning. She didn’t have any appointments. Yet her car was gone.
She was probably fine. Of course she was fine. But what if she wasn’t?