He slowed as they entered a small harbor, where ten or twelve small sailboats floated near each other. “Are these anchored here?” Avery asked.

“They’re on mooring balls. People live on them and take dinghies in and out. The mooring balls they’re tied up to belong to the Lorelei and they pay rent each month for the privilege.”

“They just live out here in the middle of the harbor?”

“Mm-hm,” the captain replied. “The Keys are full of people who come here because of the freedom to just . . . be. Others maybe can’t afford much more. You sure can’t beat the view.”

“Why aren’t the boats closer to shore?” Avery asked.

“That’s a water landing strip—you know, for seaplanes and such.” He took them around the beach, where a number of houseboats were tied to land. Old appliances and stray bits of furniture were piled on the ground around them. “Boy, those look even more rickety than ours,” Nicole said.

“And they don’t even have their own port-o-let!” Avery said.

“Who lives there?” Maddie asked.

“It varies. But it’s a cheap way to live—so some of the guys who do manual labor, or those in . . . transition might live this way.” He rounded the houseboats and the mangrove-covered end of the beach.

“Oh, over there’s the library and the playground I told you about,” Maddie said, pointing as they passed the inlet then slowed further to pass between the Lorelei’s parallel lines of docks where boats of varying sizes were tied. A couple and their dog sat on the deck of one, sipping drinks, their attention split between the crowd and the sunset.

“I’ll be up at the bar,” the captain said as he led them off the dock. Tables, all of them filled, covered a railed deck area. In the corner a magician performed on a stage built into the thatched hut. As they watched, the magician tucked a bird into a box and tapped lightly with a wand. The bird disappeared.

Dustin clapped his hands together. His eyes grew big.

“Why don’t you stay and watch with Dustin a little,” Maddie said to Kyra. “We’ll see if we can get a table down on the beach.”

“Okay.” She stayed on the small bridge that spanned a small slice of bay, bracing Dustin on one hip so that he had a clear view of the stage. “Just give me a wave when it’s time to order.”

* * *

The sunset was spectacular, a symphony of pinks and reds that played out before their eyes.

They slipped off their shoes and dug their toes into the cool sand as they wolfed down conch fritters and smoked fish dip, followed by blackened fish tacos and homemade potato chips—all of which was served by an amiable waitress who managed to be both casual and efficient. The magician had finished, much to Dustin’s dismay, and a twentysomething brunette with an hourglass figure sang in a breathy voice as smooth and light as the breeze it rode.

She sang of love and heartache and moving on, and Maddie could have taken any one of her songs as her anthem. That was how she felt—not emancipated in a Gloria Gaynor “I Will Survive” kind of way as she had when she’d first grappled with the decision to end her marriage, but free and light and breathy with possibility.

This time they toasted without prompting, relaxed by the sand beneath their toes, the water that surrounded them, and the star-filled sky that hung over them.

“My good thing is the plans for Mermaid Point,” Avery said, flushed with excitement. “I don’t think even William Hightower will find fault with them.”

“I’m going with that tonight, too,” Deirdre said. “My good thing is being allowed to contribute to those plans. And I agree that not even William Hightower will be able to find fault with them.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Kyra said. “And I’m also glad that we seem to have lost Frick and Frack for the evening.” She held Dustin tightly in her lap. “It’s nice to just be lost in the crowd.”

“I’m glad to be here with you all and in this moment,” Maddie said, a little more fervently than she’d meant to. “I feel like I could sit here forever.”

They raised their glasses and drank their frozen concoctions as the night settled around them and the warm breeze riffled their hair.

“Well, I’m grateful to our captain for springing us from captivity. And my good thing is his . . . ‘pink Cadillac . . .’” Nicole sang the last words in a poor imitation of Bruce Springsteen then pointed at Avery.

“‘Crushed velvet seats . . .’” Avery sang, handing off to Maddie, who chimed in, “‘Riding in the back of a . . .’”

Kyra squeezed Dustin tightly and all of them shouted, “Kink Padiback!”

Maddie laughed, feeling wonderfully light and buoyant. She was still smiling when she excused herself and practically floated up the walkway and over the small bridge in search of the ladies’ room.

Her eyes skimmed right out over the deck, past the bar, then left. She froze briefly at the sight of William Hightower sitting and chatting at a table with Hudson Power.

Hudson’s face lit up when he spotted her. He stood and beckoned her over. William looked up, too, but his dark face was unreadable.

Chapter Fifteen

Determined not to display the nerves she felt in William Hightower’s presence, Maddie forced a smile to her lips and headed to their table. When she greeted them she was pleased that her voice sounded normal with none of the wobble her knees were experiencing. She felt other eyes on her, assessing, wondering. Heads bent together.

“Is it always this packed?” she asked, declining an invitation to sit.

“Mostly, but it’s especially intense right now because it’s tarpon season,” Hudson replied. “Have you ever seen a tarpon?”

“Just in the water at Bud N’ Mary’s. But our Nautilimo captain says we can go to Robbie’s and feed them.”

William grunted in amusement. “It’s a lot more fun to catch them than feed them.”

“Too true,” Hudson said. “Do you like to fish?” he asked Maddie.

“I have no idea. I’ve never really done it.” She hadn’t grown up near a body of water and neither had Steve. On their few beach vacations it had never occurred to either of them. “Unless you count the goldfish I caught by throwing a Ping-Pong ball in his bowl at the fair.” As she recalled, she’d barely dropped him into his new bowl at home before he’d gone belly up and received a flushed-toilet burial.

“Down here we don’t typically fish for pets,” William said drily. “But fishing teaches you a lot about yourself. And a lot of it’s not all that pleasant.”

“Speak for yourself,” Hudson said. “You just don’t like being humbled by a fish.”

“Hey,” William said, “who does? They can be surprisingly devious.”

They laughed, and in that moment William Hightower seemed a little less rock god and a lot more human being.

“Are you sure you won’t sit down and have a drink?” Hudson asked her. His green eyes were warm, his smile easy.

“No, thanks. I’m done.” She looked at the dark liquid in William’s highball glass and wondered what it held. “I’m a bit of a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.”

Will caught her looking and downed the remainder of his drink without comment. She grimaced, realizing he’d probably assumed the comment was aimed at him.

Maddie was about to excuse herself and head back to the others when a man and woman who’d been watching them from a nearby table stood and walked over. The guy had a large beer belly and swayed slightly as they came to a halt. The woman was tall and leggy, but she looked a lot older close up than she had from a distance.

William tensed. His face smoothed into an impersonal mask.

“Hey, aren’t you William Hightower?” the man demanded.

“I am,” Will said, his voice quiet.

“I told you so,” he said to the woman before turning back to Will. “I’m Dan. Me and Vera here are big fans.”

Will smiled slightly, through very tight lips. “That’s nice.”

Vera ran a hand over her bleached blond hair. Her exposed skin—and it seemed to Maddie there was an awful lot of it—was leathered from age and sun. The words “rode hard and put away wet” surfaced in Maddie’s mind.

“Me and Vera are gonna buy you a drink.” Dan waved at the bartender. “Bring Wild Will here another round on me.” He swayed again. “And then we wanna take a picture with you.” His eyes went squinty. “Vera’s had a thing for you for decades, man. Even though she didn’t believe me when I said it was you over here.”

“Thanks.” Will seemed to ignore the insult. “I appreciate the gesture. But I’m all set.” Two guys who’d been drinking at the bar wandered over and aligned themselves behind Will and Hudson. Dan’s eyes, which were already bloodshot, went even squintier. “Just wanna have a fuckin’ drink with you, man.”

William sighed. “I hear you,” he tried one last time. “But I don’t need a drink and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t talk that way in front of the lady.”

“Who—her?” Vera scowled at Maddie. “What’s so special about her?”

Hudson began to stand. Will laid a hand on his arm.

“Here.” Dan shoved his phone at Maddie. “You know how to use one of these?” he asked.

Maddie was slightly better at phone photography than she was at texting, but the guy’s question was clearly rhetorical. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a glint of light. Her chest tightened when she saw that it was a camera lens; somehow Troy and Anthony had arrived and were already set up and shooting. Instinctively, she stepped forward and edged to the right in an effort to shield at least part of William, just as she would have Dustin.

“Okay, we’ll skip the frickin’ drink,” Dan said as if this were a negotiation. “But we’re not leavin’ without a picture.”