none of the scandalous tidbits could get traced back to me.” He gestured toward the trunk, his youthful face infused with pride. “That garment bag? A castoff of Sharon Stone’s.”
Olivia wasn’t one to swoon at the mention of a celebrity’s name, but Cosmo looked so forlorn and eager for praise that she did her best to appear impressed. “You must be very talented.”
“Oh, I am.” Cosmo’s smile grew. “Cam and I—our stars were on the rise.” He touched Olivia on the elbow so that she’d meet his eyes. “I’m not going back to LA without answers. My future was with Camden and now that’s gone. Just like that!” He snapped his fingers. “I can’t even
“There’s really only one decent option in town. That is, if you want to avoid the tourists and their boisterous children. I’ll get you a room at a bed-and-breakfast called The Yellow Lady.”
Cosmo leaned heavily against the headrest. “Ugh! Creaky floors and saggy mattresses covered by old quilts. Nosy innkeepers and housemaids going through my pockets? There’s nothing more modern?”
“Oyster Bay is a town in transition, I’m afraid.” Olivia was struck by an inspiration. “I have a cottage on my property. It’s small, but it has a kitchen and a living room and overlooks the ocean. Do you think you’d be more comfortable there?”
“
Simultaneously flustered and pleased by his boyish need, Olivia began to give commands to the phone installed in her car’s dashboard. “Call The Yellow Lady,” Olivia ordered. As the computer complied, Olivia told Cosmo, “You’ll have to stay there tonight. The cottage isn’t set up for guests and I’ll need to buy a bed first thing tomorrow. I’d also like to be there when you go into Camden’s room. My friends and I, the ones from Camden’s writing group, believe there could be a clue within the pages of his manuscript.”
“The book about the Talbots? Do you think he was killed because of some connection to that family?” Cosmo’s voice was tight with anger.
“I don’t know, but here’s why
Cosmo shook his head. “Blake may pretend to be tough with his black leather pants, wallet chain, and shiny combat boots, but he’s almost as soft as I am. But from how Camden’s talked about that boy, I could believe he’d pay someone to do something horrible. He’s got plenty of money to burn.”
“Not enough for a tour bus, if Camden’s fictitious account is accurate,” Olivia remarked.
“Well, the word on the street is that Daddy Warbucks doles out a monthly allowance and Blake isn’t happy with the amount. Dean Talbot is his son’s manager, you know, so he controls the band’s finances.”
This was news to Olivia. “I thought he was in real estate.”
Chuckling dryly, Cosmo said, “Honey, he’s got his hands in more pies than the pastry chef at Spago.” He paused. “That’s one of Wolfgang Puck’s restaurants.”
“In Beverly Hills, yes. I’ve eaten there.”
Cosmo sighed again, this time with relief. “Thank God I’ve got you! I thought I’d be surrounded by the cast of
“Hardly. In any case, Camden paved the way for you by charming half the town. Even the Republicans loved him.”
“That’s my Cam,” Cosmo whispered.
They fell silent for a while. Olivia had left the interstate and the Range Rover was now cruising down an empty two-lane highway. Cosmo cracked his window and inhaled, closing his eyes so that his long lashes lay against the smooth skin of his cheek. “I smell the ocean.”
“This is our county line,” she informed Cosmo.
Haviland shuffled restlessly in the backseat, having napped during most of the trip. “Slept off your dinner a bit, Captain?” Olivia teased.
The poodle barked once in reply, his mouth smiling at her reflection in the rearview mirror.
As they passed through town, Cosmo wrung his hands together. “Are we going to pass by the place ... ?”
“Not tonight,” Olivia replied firmly. “You’re exhausted. It’s time for you to have a drink and go to bed.”
“Yes. That sounds like the thing to do.” Cosmo exhaled. “You’re an angel, Olivia. Thank you.”
Olivia couldn’t help it. She laughed aloud. “An angel? Now,
Chapter 7
After a night of troubled sleep, Olivia rose just as dawn was breaking over the water. A pale light seeped into the sky, followed by a washed-out sun. Already the summer haze was sitting on the land like an animal resting on heavy haunches. Only the ocean breeze kept Oyster Bay’s residents from being completely weighed down by humidity, though the northern tourists sweated so copiously that they often needed to change clothes twice before lunchtime.
After breakfast, Olivia and Haviland took their customary walk on the beach. The poodle raced after gulls and sandpipers, did some cursory digging in clam holes, and frightened crabs into scuttling for cover in the white- bubbled foam feathering the shore. Haviland’s mouth hung open in a joyful smile and his bright eyes darted from the moist sand to the grass-speckled dunes to his mistress. Olivia smiled back at him, taking in deep breaths of ocean air. It had taken decades of travel and a dozen different addresses for her to realize there was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be than on the beach she ran across as a child.
Once the pair had walked a little over a mile, Olivia climbed a small rise and settled on the sand. Hugging her knees against her chest, she sat still as a stone as the sun bathed her face.
She thought of Camden and Cosmo and their life together in Los Angeles and wondered what it would be like when Cosmo returned home alone. She could almost see him passing through the clean, chic rooms of their apartment, picking up photographs, listlessly shifting throw pillows, opening and closing the refrigerator—anything to avoid the empty truth that his friend and lover would never enter the space again. Eventually, Cosmo would be confronted by the scent of his lover lingering on a bathroom towel or clinging to a silk shirt hanging in the closet and then the beautiful young man would crumple to the floor, a piece of cloth pressed against his face, as grief asserted
