an apartment in the back.”
“So, according to Audra, Diana worked at this place fifty years ago.
“She’s a god,” Lydia reminded her patiently. “She can change her appearance. If she wants to age, she can. If she wants to be a tall, blond, twenty-year-old woman or a short, elderly, black man or a goat, she can be.”
“She can be a goat?” Marcy was intrigued.
“Yeah. Didn’t you ever read mythology?” Lydia asked. “Gods were always turning into animals. Zeus was pretending to be a bull or something when he impregnated Hercules’ mom.”
“Why did he pretend to be a bull?” Marcy asked. “How does being a bull make it easier for him to get laid instead of being a friggin’
Harper turned away from them and stared back out at the flower shop. “So you’re sure this is the place?”
“Yeah,” Lydia said decisively. “If Diana is still alive, then this is where we’ll find her.”
“Harper. Look at that bush,” Gemma said, and got out of the car to inspect it.
It was a huge bush growing up alongside the building and nearly as tall. Each of the blossoms were bright, vibrant purple, and they had to be twice the size of Gemma’s fist. As soon as she stepped out of the car, she’d been able to smell it—the strong fragrance overpowering the other plants and the city around them.
“This is just like the one behind Bernie’s house,” Gemma said when she heard Harper come up behind her. “Thalia planted it in the yard.”
“Do you think she got it from here?” Marcy asked, as she and Lydia joined them.
“She must’ve,” Harper said. “I’ve never seen roses like this anywhere else.”
“Look at this one.” Lydia had moved a few feet away and pointed to a fern with large pink flowers in the shape of a corkscrew. Then she looked around, gesturing to the cornucopia of vivid, exotic plant life. “The flowers and plants here all seem really beautiful and unique. She might be the goddess of nature.”
“I thought Diana was the goddess of hunting,” Harper said.
“The Roman goddess. But Demeter was the goddess of nature.” Gemma couldn’t breathe for a moment. “You don’t think…”
Lydia shrugged. “Audra only ever referred to her as Diana.”
“It could be her, though,” Gemma insisted.
They were all standing outside, and a mixture of terror and hope left Gemma frozen in place. Marcy had apparently grown impatient, because she went inside, and the door chimed loudly as she entered.
“Marcy,” Harper hissed, and hurried after her. “Wait for us.”
Inside, the store somehow felt even more vast than it had on the outside. It was like stepping into a jungle. Vines and flowers hung from the ceiling, cucumber and zucchini were growing over crates into the aisles. It had been warm outside, but the heat and humidity were so strong indoors that Marcy’s glasses fogged up, and she wiped them on her shirt.
“I’ll be right out!” A woman shouted from the far end of the store. “Look around while you wait.”
Gemma and Harper exchanged a look, and Gemma shrugged. The four of them started wandering toward the other end of the store, where the woman had shouted from, but it was impossible not to get sidetracked by the plants.
Gemma stepped away from the main aisle and investigated a wall of vines, strange tangles that completely covered an old, wired fence. The flowers were small, like violets, and a deep, rich blue. But it was the scent that called her in. It was intoxicating, and for a second, her head even stopped hurting.
“Hello there,” the woman said again, sounding closer this time. Gemma heard the jangle of her jewelry as she walked over to the other girls. “What can I help you all with today?”
“Are you Diana?” Lydia asked, and Gemma tried to peer in through the vines to get a peek at her, but all she could see was drapey beige fabric.
“Yes, I am,” the woman said cheerily.
Gemma finally came out from behind the vines where she saw a woman in her late fifties standing with Harper, Lydia, and Marcy. She looked exactly the way Gemma imagined an art history teacher or the leader of a co-op whole-foods store would look.
She wore a long dress with billowy sleeves and some kind of Indian pattern that went down to her feet. Beaded necklaces and bracelets adorned her, though none of them appeared to be that fancy or expensive. Her blond hair was a bit frizzy and pulled away from her face. When she saw Gemma, she adjusted her small, tortoiseshell glasses, then she exhaled deeply.
“Oh,” Diana said, looking past the other girls and staring right at Gemma. “So you’ve come to kill me then?”
THIRTY-ONE
Culpable
“It’s a great night for this,” Alex said as he surveyed the beer tent at Bayside Park.
“Yep. Just us two guys and a bunch of drunks.” Daniel took a swig of his beer. “Perfect.”
Just outside the tent, he could hear the sounds of the emcee announcing the Miss Capri Pageant, and the crowd’s applauding and cheering. But in here, it seemed much quieter.
The thick green fabric of the tent kept out the sunlight and the festivities of At Summer’s End. Sure, there were tourists inside, and a few frat boys getting wasted at the other end of the tent, but something about the beer tent gave it an illusion of privacy that Daniel found comforting.
That’s not what Alex meant by a great night, though. The weather was warm, the sky was blue, birds were singing. Even though it was officially September, this was still the perfect summer day.
Alex had come right from his shift at the dock, and he’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt, but he still smelled vaguely of grease and seawater. Still, he seemed happy to be here, and had a boyish grin on his face.
It was that grin that wouldn’t let him pass for twenty-one although he had matured and looked much older than when Daniel had first met him earlier this summer. But the bartender had slapped a bright orange wristband on Alex, meaning that he’d only be served soda in the tent.
That was fine by Daniel. He’d flashed his ID, gotten a cold beer, and sat down at a picnic table in the corner. Alex sat next to him, sipping his Mountain Dew.
“I was kinda surprised when you texted me today,” Alex admitted. “We don’t usually hang out.”
“Well, I’m always borrowing your car, so I figured that we ought to get to know each other,” Daniel said, but that wasn’t the whole reason.
He hadn’t slept much since his fight with Harper last night. After she’d left, he’d kicked a dining-room chair in anger, snapping one of the legs. He spent most of today mending it, but eventually he’d grown tired of sitting in the house and feeling trapped on the island.
He hadn’t even properly celebrated his birthday yet, not that he really deserved to celebrate. Harper was right, and he knew it. He’d blown it with her because he hadn’t thought, and now he didn’t want to think. Not about her. Not about last night.
So he’d asked Alex to join him for a beer. He’d like to believe that it was just because he thought Alex was a nice guy, but the truth was that his life had become so entangled with the Fisher girls that he couldn’t even hang out with someone who wasn’t somehow connected to them.
Gemma had texted him earlier, letting him know that she and Harper had left town to meet Diana in Charleston, so that he wouldn’t worry if he came looking for Harper. But he did still worry.
And maybe that’s why he’d invited Alex out, too. In case something happened to either Harper or Gemma, Daniel wanted to know. Even if Harper never wanted to see him again, he couldn’t go on without knowing she was okay. Without being there to help if she needed him.
“It’ll be good for us to get along,” Alex said. “Since the ladies in our lives are sisters, it’ll be easier if we can
