“That is not what I said,” Tina argued.
“Yes, actually, it is,” Miranda said. She turned to look at Cameron and her face softened. “Rhia misses you.” She pulled a small package out of her handbag and handed it to the girl. “She wanted me to give you this. Happy birthday, sweetie.”
With that, Miranda turned on her heel and headed back to the door. She paused in the doorway and turned back to face them. “Oh, and, Tina? Go to hell.”
They heard a door slam shortly thereafter.
“Well, that was completely uncalled-for,” Tina said. “I mean, honestly.”
Cameron opened her present. Inside was half of a heart. A sound like a hiccup burst out of her throat and she reached beneath the collar of her shirt and pulled out a pendant. Mel didn’t need to look any closer to see it was the other half of the heart. Put together, they read Best Friends.
She didn’t need to look because she and Angie had had the same ones growing up. The look of heartbreak on Cammie’s face made Mel want to hug her, but she suspected that would be weird given that she didn’t know the girl at all.
Cameron glanced up at her mother and her eyes burned. “Now I’ve lost my best friend. I will never forgive you for this. Never!”
She ran from the patio and again the sound of a door being slammed echoed in the quiet.
“Unbelievable,” Tina Weston snapped. “I have done everything for that girl. I took her to the best stylist, the best personal shopper; I had her join all the right clubs and activities; I volunteered to work on committees just so I could get in with the parents of the popular kids so that she could be a part of the popular crowd, and this is the thanks I get?”
She snatched a cupcake off of the tower and shoved it into her face. Mel got the feeling she wasn’t tasting the cupcake so much as keeping herself from primal screaming. That was cool; whatever worked.
Tina crossed to the beverage station, where a stack of papers sat. She fished through them and returned, slapping their check onto the table.
“The cupcakes are great. Thanks,” she said. Then she disappeared inside the house. In moments, they heard her calling, with obvious fake cheer, “Cammie, come on, baby girl. Let’s get you all pretty for your party.”
The tower was done. Oz looked at Mel and said, “I say we make a run for it.”
“And how,” Mel agreed.
Oz grabbed the handles of the empty cart and led the way through the mansion back to the driveway, where he had parked their vehicle.
They climbed into the big pink cupcake truck and Oz fired up the engine and shot down the street. He drove like he was fleeing the scene of a crime, not slowing down until they were four streets away.
“That made me feel icky,” Mel said.
Oz nodded. His hair flopped out of his eyes and Mel could see he was frowning. She suspected he felt yucky, too.
“Can you imagine how the poor girl who got left out is feeling?” he asked. “That wasn’t right, it just wasn’t right.”
“People can be pretty awful,” Mel said. She thought about Elise’s book and how the whole thing was just one horrific example of people behaving badly, one after another.
“But to exclude someone just because you decide that they’re not worthy, that’s just nasty.” Oz shook his head.
Mel studied him. She remembered being excluded quite a lot as a teen. She was heavyset, painfully shy, and the epitome of awkward. If it hadn’t been for Tate and Angie, she’d have had no friends at all. She suspected Oz, with his goth look and love of baking, wasn’t exactly a mainstream “in crowd” type of guy, either.
“I can’t really blame the other mom for being so upset,” she said. “She was just trying to look out for her daughter.”
“Being left out can be devastating,” Oz said. “Especially if it’s done out of thoughtlessness, like you didn’t even warrant a spiteful snub.”
“It might even make you murderous,” Mel said.
Her heart beat hard in her chest. It hit her then that she’d been looking at this thing all wrong.
Mel snatched her phone out of her handbag. She called Uncle Stan’s number at the station.
“Martinez,” his partner answered.
“Hi, Tara, it’s Mel. I’m looking for Uncle Stan. Is he around?
“Would I be answering his phone if he was?”
Mel sighed and said nothing. She did not want to get into it with Tara today.
“He’s over at your mom’s house,” Tara said.
“Thanks.” Mel went to end the call.
“Hey!” Tara said, stopping her. “Is this about the case?”
“Nah,” Mel lied. She was not sharing with Tara before she shared with Stan.
She ended the call and turned to Oz. “We need to make a quick detour.”
Oz parked in her mother’s driveway. Mel hopped out and Oz came with her since Joyce was known to always have a hot pot of coffee and a snack for anyone who happened by.
“Mom!” Mel shouted as she unlocked the door and pushed her way inside.
Two people were standing entwined in front of her. Mel froze and Oz, unprepared for the abrupt stop, slammed into her back, sending her staggering forward with a grunt.
The couple broke apart and Mel felt her jaw hit the ground. “Mom? Uncle Stan? What?”
“Hoo boy, didn’t see that coming,” Oz said from behind her.
“I don’t understand,” Mel said. “Uncle Stan is the guy you’re seeing?”
“Now, Mel, before you get all—” Uncle Stan began, but Mel cut him off.
“You hush,” she said. “Is he?”
Joyce’s hands fluttered in the air like little birds, and then she smoothed down the front of her shirt in an obvious effort to compose herself.
She met Mel’s gaze and said, “Yes.”
“And Charlie knows?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You told my little brother before me?” Mel asked. “Why?”
“Because we
