thick fishing nets, spears, and even a few cracked oars. A wooden counter with polished brass railing ran along one wall, but what caught my eye was that a long, skinny boat had been placed on top of the counter, its hull sinking into the wood like it was bobbing along on top of the ocean. The boat then formed a bar where people could sit, eat, and drink. Clever. It matched the rest of the weathered interior and looked like something right out of
The inside of the restaurant was just as crowded as the outside, and we had to wait several minutes before two seats opened up at the end of the bar. The bartender came over, took our food orders, and mixed up a couple of drinks for us—a mojito for Bria and a gin and tonic with a twist of lime for me.
Bria put down her menu and looked at the bartender. “Tell Callie that Bria’s finally here and to come say hi when she has a minute, okay?”
He nodded and pushed through a set of double doors, stepping into the back of the restaurant. Bria swiveled around on her stool so that she could look at all the folks enjoying their food. A smile curved her lips, and her blue eyes misted over with memories. It was obvious that she loved the restaurant and felt at home here.
I didn’t begrudge Bria her trip down memory lane, but I couldn’t help but be a little hurt by it. My sister had never looked so happy and relaxed at the Pork Pit—not once.
“Callie and I grew up together in Blue Marsh, and we were inseparable as kids,” Bria said. “Her family’s owned this restaurant for three generations now. I probably spent more time here as a kid and playing on the beach outside than I did at my own house. I think I told you about her once, about how you reminded me of her.”
Bria had talked pretty much nonstop about Callie Reyes the last few days, ever since we’d decided to come here for a vacation. From everything Bria had said, I knew that Callie was more than just her friend, that Callie was like a sister to her—the sister I wasn’t.
Callie was the one Bria had grown up with, the one she’d laughed and giggled and gossiped with. Callie was the one who’d held Bria when she’d cried over the deaths of her parents. Callie was the one who’d seen to the funeral arrangements and made sure that Bria was okay afterward. Callie was the one who’d always been around when I hadn’t.
I respected Callie’s role in my sister’s life, was glad that she’d always been there for Bria, but part of me couldn’t help but be jealous of the other woman as well. Of course, I couldn’t tell Bria that, not without making things worse between us than they already were—especially not now when I was in the other woman’s restaurant, in her gin joint.
“Of course, I remember,” I said, my voice a little colder than I would have liked. “You told me all about how you lived in Savannah awhile before your foster parents moved out to Blue Marsh when you were ten. I remember everything you tell me about your life down here.”
Bria eyed me, picking up on my hostile tone, but before she could call me on it, a waitress came over with our food—a steamy plate of shrimp scampi with a basket of deep-fried hush puppies for Bria and a Jamaican jerk chicken sandwich with thin, crispy sweet potato fries for me.
“Consider this meal on the house, Detective,” a soft, feminine voice said. “Although maybe I should make you wash dishes for your dinner.”
Bria’s eyes lit up at the sound of the other woman’s voice, and she swiveled back around on her stool. “Callie! It’s so good to see you!”
Not just a waitress, then. Bria hopped off her stool, and the two women shared a long, tight hug. Callie drew back, holding Bria at arm’s length, and I got my first good look at my sister’s best friend.
Callie Reyes was a petite woman with a curvy body that looked strong and sexy at the same time. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek French braid and was such a dark brown that it almost looked black underneath the lights. Her skin had a lovely golden tint to it, while her gray-green eyes glittered with warmth, confidence, and intelligence. All put together, she was a beautiful woman, despite the simple white T-shirt and khaki cargo pants that she wore underneath a long blue work apron. I eyed the well-worn cotton. It could have been a twin to the aprons that I always wore at the Pork Pit, right down to the grease stains that covered the front of it.
Bria gave her friend a critical once-over, then sighed and shook her head. “You’re just as gorgeous as ever.”
Callie smiled and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re one to talk, blondie. I remember how crazy you used to make the boys back in high school and then in college too.”
The two friends started talking, their words mixing and overlapping as they gossiped about all the boys they had dated and all the other people they knew in Blue Marsh and beyond. It only took a second for me to see just how much the two of them cared about each other, just how close they were. Hell, they even finished each other’s sentences.
“Do you remember that time that the Loudon twins—” Callie started.
“Asked us to go to the senior prom with them?” Bria chimed in. “Of course! Best double date of my life, despite the fact that they wore those awful powder blue tuxedos.”
They looked at each other, smiled, and laughed.
I sat on my stool feeling awkward and out of place. Three really was a crowd in this case.
“Wait a minute. Wait a
Callie laughed and fluttered her fingers, making the not-so-small square-cut diamond on her left hand sparkle. “I told you that I’ve been busy since you left town. You were the first person I called after I got engaged last week.”
“You know that I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Bria squeezed her friend’s hand. “I’m so thrilled for you.”
“Thanks. I’ve never been happier.”
Callie finally noticed me watching them, and her eyes flicked from me to Bria and back again. “Hey, who’s your friend?”
Friend? Bria and Callie talked all the time, from what my sister said. Surely, Bria had told her about me— right?
Bria hesitated. She sat back down on her stool to buy herself a few more seconds to answer, and I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind as she decided exactly what to say about me. “This is Gin, my . . . sister.”
Callie frowned. “But I thought that all your family was dead. Your foster parents and your birth family.”
Bria gave her a tight smile. “I did too, until a few months ago. Things have . . . changed since then.”
Well, I supposed that was one way of putting it. I stared at Bria, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes.
The seconds ticked by, with only the conversation of the other diners and the clatter of their dishes to fill in the silence. When it became obvious that Bria wasn’t going to offer any more explanation about who I was and where I’d come from, Callie cleared her throat and held out her hand to me.
“Please forgive me for being rude and not introducing myself. Callie Reyes.”
“Gin Blanco.” I shook her hand. She had a strong grip, and her fingers were warm from the heat of the kitchen.
“Gin?” she asked.
I held up my gin and tonic and shook the glass, rattling the ice cubes and slice of lime inside. “Gin. Like the liquor.”
“I see. So what do you do, Gin? Are you a cop like Bria is?”
Bria gasped and choked on the hush puppy that she’d just popped into her mouth. She made a few strangled sounds before she was able to swallow. Looked like my nighttime activities were something else Bria hadn’t told her best friend about.
Callie frowned. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”
“No, I’m fine,” Bria wheezed, taking a sip of her mojito. “Just fine.”
Her lips tightened, and she sat up straight on her stool, tension gathering in her shoulders. She didn’t look at me, even though I was right next to her.
For the first time, I realized that my sister was actually embarrassed by me—ashamed, even. Well, not by
